Milton Clarence Blowers

Mar 16, 1947

43 mins read

Milton Clarence Blowers


Milton Clarence, fourth child and eldest son of Rev. Omer C. and Elvira Palmer Blowers, was born at Marilla, Erie County, New York, on February 6, 1891.

In their journeyings in the itinerancy, the father was sent from Johnsonburg, Wyoming County, New York, on Wyoming District where he served two years, to Wales and Town Line on the Buffalo District, having previously served two years as pastor at Randolph, Cold Spring and Red House Circuit, Chautauqua District, and one year on the Belmont and Pikeville Circuit in what was then Allegany District.

After the long and tiresome journey from Johnsonburg to Wales Hollow, the father, mother and Their three children first went to the home of the Class Leader, Brother John Leigh, who lived with his son and family. They were members of the Methodist Church, but were very nice to us and received us cordially. There was a nice, large church there and a small parsonage. Papa wanted to look around over the circuit before settling on a place to live. After going to Town Line through Marilla, we finally decided to rent a small place about a mile outside the village. It had a good house and barn, a large garden, chicken house, and was centrally located between the two appointments. The place was owned by Ezra Van Brocklin, who, with his family, lived across the orchard. The neighbors were very kind and sociable. The members at Town Line were mostly alive and active, but at Wales, they were most all elderly people who were “set in their ways”. The Webster family lived at Town Line. Several of the boys belonged to our church; some are living today.

One of the members living there at that time, Robert Monroe by name, found it necessary to build a new barn, a larger one. So he tore down the old one, thinking to make use of the timbers. He went to the woods, cut down trees and hauled them out and worked away on them to get them hewed. When spring came, he tried to find someone who would take the job of building a barn. But when the carpenters would come and look things over and see the material he wanted used, they would turn away and leave it. Time went on, the barn was not up, and it would soon be haying time and no place to put his hay, so he wanted Papa to find a carpenter for him. Papa knew of one who lived at East Otto and went after him and worked with him so together, they got the barn finished in time. But it was an awful job and took a long time, as the timbers had to be spliced and pieced. When it was finished, Papa went to him and told him he wanted to show him some figures. He would have saved a large sum if he had bought the material instead of cutting down his trees, spending so much time hewing and splicing, and left his old barn standing. He saw it all when it was too late. Papa used that as an illustration when he preached at times from the text, “There is that, that scattereth and yet increaseth, and there is that, that withholdeth more than is mete and it tendeth to poverty”. He was a close-fisted man, anyway. The Websters probably remember him.

There was one great inconvenience about this place where we lived. There was no water on the place. We had to carry it from across the rood for cooking, washing, and everything. There was not even a pump across the road. We had to draw up the water in a pail fastened to a pole, which was no easy job, especially for washing clothes. In rainy weather, we had to put out tubs to catch rainwater for washing.

One day, one of the neighbors drove into the yard and asked for Papa, but he was not home and in turning his horse and buggy around, the neighbor backed into a tub we had put out by the barn to catch water. Nothing was said, but next day, we found a nice, new tub out there to replace the broken one.

During the winter, a music teacher came to Marilla, giving vocal lessons. Papa, always anxious to improve himself, signed up for the course. We had an organ and had many good times singing together. One day while we were singing, Mr. Van Brocklin came and had another man with him. Papa asked them in and they wanted us to sing for them, so we did. They seemed to enjoy it.

Toward spring, Rev. B. P. Clark came to hold meetings at Town Line for Papa and went with him to Wales on Sunday for services. A family by the name of Hudson, living outside the village of Wales on a farm, in some way became offended and stayed home from church. They had a nice sugar bush and made lots of maple syrup. On their way home from church at Wales, Papa and Brother Clark drove into their yard. When they came out, Papa introduced Brother Clark to Brother and Sister Hudson. During the conversation, they were telling how much syrup they were making. Brother Clark spoke up and said, “Why don’t you give your preacher some?" The lady hardly knew what to say, but finally replied, “Well, you know he wasn’t our choice”. Then Brother Clark let loose on them and told them of their error. The judgments of God seemed to follow their after-life, as they had trouble and sorrow.

Bishop Hogue was at our house while we lived there and held a Quarterly Meeting for Papo. He was a great and good man.

The spring and summer months passed and Conference time came again. After the business of the year was finished, every bushel of potatoes, cabbages and other vegetables, every pound of butter and dozen of eggs were applied on salary, figured up and accounted for, and Conference Claims were in, Papa went to Conference and was returned to Wales and Town Line for another year. Glad we were that we did not have to move and we entered into the duties before us.

The men of the church at Town Line and some of those in the neighborhood got together and cut up a big wood pile which Papa had ready. Days and weeks were well filled in preparation for the coming winter. Papa gathered in the vegetables from the garden into the cellar. We also had a good supply of apples, as usual.

In Buffalo, a grain elevator burned and Papa and John Webster drove in to the city and brought out quite a quantity of barley. Some of it was scorched, but alright for feed. Papa was always on the look-out for bargains like that.

A Methodist lady living at Wales, out of the kindness of her heart, I suppose, sent us some second-hand clothing and a box of old, worn out shoes which could not be used. However, l made nice warm coats trimmed with the fur, and bonnets, for the three little girls out of the garments. They went to church and Sunday School with their father when the mother was unable to go.

One cold, stormy night in winter, after Papa had been working hard all day, cutting and bringing in wood to keep the “home fires burning", always busily engaged in looking after the comfort and happiness of the family, the cow and chickens having been cared for, the horse was bedded down for the night, the little girls in the house were tucked away safely in their warm beds and were already in the land of dreams. Grandma Palmer was there to help in any emergency and toward morning, her help was needed and she was called upon to wash and dress our 7 1/2-pound baby boy, who had thick, block hair and blue eyes. How pleased the father was and everyone rejoiced to welcome the nice baby boy, especially the three little girls. In the morning, they hardly knew how to act; they were so delighted. Then, too, Aunt Adda came to help with the work and she, too, was glad we had such a nice baby boy. Uncle Charles came later for a short time.

Under tender, watchful care and nursing, the babe and his mother grew stronger, until the mother was able to be about again and take up the care of the home and children.

The top buggy was traded for a surrey to accommodate the growing family. One day, they were out for a ride and to make some calls and had only gone a short distance and were near the Schoolhouse when Ruth put out her hand, playing with the spokes of the wheel, and in reaching too far fell out into the road. The sand being deep, she was not hurt, but scared. The other children sitting in the back seat with her were frightened and set up a cry for Papa to stop the horse. He got out and went back and picked her up and put her back in the buggy, where she sat quietly the rest of the journey. We always think of this when passing that place.

Another time, we were calling on members living at Elma, not far away. The lady, Sister Young, gave me three silver dollars to buy cloth for dresses for the three little girls and they had them on in the picture taken of them with the father, mother and baby brother, Milton.

The neighbors were all kind and friendly, as were the village people, at Marilla. The Methodist minister there left his pastorate before the year was up, so his people invited Papa to preach for them. He did so, for awhile, and they liked him so well, they wanted him to accept the pastorate permanently and move into the parsonage. It was quite a temptation; a much better house in which to live, more people to preach to and increased salary, but after due consideration and prayer, he decided he could not do it, for the sake of the family and the influences and associations they would be surrounded by in a formal church. Like Moses, he chose to suffer affliction with the people of God, by taking the royal way of the cross".

With the springtime, again came the singing of the birds and lovely flowers. All nature springing into new life brought added labor and responsibility to the preacher and his wife.

Early one Sunday morning, a knock was heard at the door and upon opening, Mr. Van Brocklin was there and said excitedly to Papa, “Your horse has fallen into our well”, so they made haste to muster nearby help and taking a plank, lifted the horse out. She had gone in hips first. Several men were there to help. She was not seriously hurt; only a few scratches and a deep cut. She was driven to church that day, but it was some time before the cut was entirely healed. She must have broken her halter strap and walked out of the barn and across the orchard to the well and the platform broke.

Upon returning home after being away for a day or two, we found on the table a paper on which was written in Grandpa Palmer’s hand writing this verse: “Know this, that if the good man of the house had known what hour the thief would come he would have watched and not have suffered his house to be broken in”. He had come and gone and we were so disappointed not to have been at home, for a visit from Grandpa Palmer was a most coveted treat. He was passing through that way, but could not stay. They were living at Newfane, Niagara County, at that time, which was quite a distance away.

One of the neighbors gave Papa the privilege of cutting poles for wood in his woods, so Papa made the most of the offer, cut down quite a supply and drew them down by the house to cut up for wood. One day when he was drawing them, as he drove up near the woodshed, the little girls were outdoors playing. Ruth, just a tiny tot, happened to be right where he wanted to unload, but Papa did not see her. However, our faithful horse saw her and as she was guided to go where Ruth was, went as far as she could and stood there with her foot held up, so not to step on her, until someone took her out of the way. “Kit” was the very knowing horse.

The spring and summer days passed happily; days filled with hard work, to be sure, but nevertheless happy days. Our baby boy seemed to be thriving and getting on well. We had given him the name Milton Clarence, his middle name the same as his father’s. He was always the pride and joy of the household.

Conference time again drew near and the usual business of closing another year of labor, faithfully performed.

An instance comes to mind which will be inserted here. Late one afternoon, when papa was away to be gone all night, who should drive into the yard but Uncle Hasson and Jed Thurbur. They were out with a stereopticon, giving lectures and showing pictures at rural schoolhouses. They stayed all night at our house and after breakfast, the mother took the Bible and handed it first to Uncle Hasson, who, at that time, was unsaved. He refused it, so she offered it to Jed and he very politely took it and read a chapter, though he, too, was unsaved. Then the mother knelt with the children and prayed, holding her baby boy in her arms. She always felt grateful to Jed for helping out in family worship. They stayed for two or three days. Papa came home the next day and we were so glad.

At Conference time, we were moved to Brockport and Hulberton Circuit. Two years in one place was the limit at that time. After packing up our few household goods, we started out with our little family for our new field of labor. As there was no parsonage at either place, and having been directed to the home of a prominent member, Sister Mary Hitchcock (who, by the way, was an aunt of Aunt Helen Tracy’), we headed for Hulberton and went to this home which was just outside the village and were given a hearty welcome. The problem of a place to live again confronted us. Finally, word came that there was a maiden lady by the name of Georgia Hulbert, after whose father the village was named, who lived alone and wanted a family to move into her house, board her, and keep the fires, for the rent. After seeing her and the place, we decided to move in; that is, we were to use her stove, furniture, beds, etc., just furnishing our own bedding and some things we wanted to. It was a very nice, pleasant place, well furnished; so we stored most of our goods. Miss Hulbert reserved her parlor and sleeping room downstairs and some of the rooms upstairs. She slept downstairs and most of the time, stayed in her room, except for meals. We all ate together in the living room, which was a nice, pleasant room where we had our organ. She had a piano in her room. She always wanted pancakes for breakfast, was not hard to please and never found fault. So we got along famously together, without any trouble. In the winter, she went away for a visit, intending to return in a week or two, but was taken quite sick with the grippe. Consequently, her stay was prolonged. She was so delighted to get back home again.

Baby Milton had a very severe cold and was so filled with phlegm, he nearly choked to death. His father was holding revival meetings at Hulberton at that time and when the baby choked so, the mother sent for him to come home, as it was near to the church. He came and gave him several doses of ipecac before he was relieved. He was sick for some time. After the cold was broken up and we moved out into the country, he would have such crying spells; he would, all at once, start screaming. We could see nothing wrong and sometimes thought they were naughty spells.

We moved out into the country when spring came, as Papa wanted a place to pasture his cows and horse. He had bought a western cow that was in a carload shipped in from the west and had never known what a fence was for. He could not be kept in any lot. The only way we could keep her within bounds was for Papa to hitch her to a long, heavy rail; then we had to watch her to keep her off the neighbors lot. If ever an animal was demon possessed, that cow must have been.

The place where we moved was in the town of Manning, about three or four miles out of Hulberton. Mabel and Edna began going to the school district. Our baby did not get any better, but we could not find anything wrong with him. He would lie in his crib and seem alright, but when sitting up, would begin to scream and cry.

When Conference time rolled around again, we were to go to Parma and Chili Circuit and before the goods were all packed, two brethren from that circuit drove up with their big teams and hay rack (Brother Beverly Burritt, President Burritt’s father and an elderly Brother Smith from Chili) to take our goods. They stayed all night and in the morning, Papa helped them load up and they went. We were to live in the Parsonage at West Greece. It was a large circuit, with two preachers filling each pulpit alternately, which included Parma Center, North Parma, Clarkson, West Greece and North Chili.

After being moved and partly settled in our new home, special attention was given to Milton, as a bunch, the size of a small hickory nut, had appeared, one on each side of his neck. Papa inquired around concening the best medical help and was told of Dr. Moore, a specialist and a surgeon in Rochester. Brother T. Johnson and daughter, Carrie, now Mrs. Freeman of Brockport, came to visit us one day from Hulberton and Papa asked Brother Johnson to take him to Rochester to see Dr. Moore, who had the reputation of being the best in the city. (It was only ten miles into the city, but those were the horse and buggy days" and after reaching the office of Dr. Moore, they found a room full of people waiting their turn. Papa sat down by the office door with Milton in his arms and as soon as someone came out, he went in, without waiting his turn. When the doctor examined Milton all over, and by holding his head between his hands, Milton seemed relieved. The doctor said those bunches on his neck were swellings of the glands; that his head was too heavy for his body, or the place at the back of the neck. He said he would have to have a plaster paris jacket put on to lift the weight of his head from his neck, which was causing the pain. When they came home, Papa told what the doctor said and added, “We will not have him put into a plaster paris jacket until more than one doctor says so”. Then some of the leading members told us of a lady doctor in Rochester, Dr. Woodruff, who had been very successful in curing some difficult cases nearby, so Papa took Milton to see her and after examining him, she said, “We cannot tell how it will be. You know the fruit that ripens first, goes first. But one thing I know; Dr. Moore is wrong, for these swellings are too low down to be the glands”. And she was right. She gave Papa some medicine and said to keep flaxseed poultices on the swellings, which was faithfully done and after a few weeks, the one on the right side got smaller and finally disappeared. The one on the left side turned purple. Again, Papa went to see her, telling her of the result and she said, “It is an abscess”. Later, when it was ready, she came and lanced it. Then she left antiseptic powder to put on it and said, “Dont let it heal too quickly, but keep it open to drain while discharging pus”. So it was open for nearly six months and had to be dressed every morning. Finally, it was healed, leaving a scar.

From that time on, his health improved and he developed into a robust, healthy boy. We took him with us, one day, when we called on a lady who sometimes attended our church services, but was not a member. He behaved very nicely (as our children almost always did) and the lady gave him a large marble with beautiful colors inside, to take home. He kept it for several years.

The three girls attended the district school which was nearby and they, with little brother, always went to church services and Sabbath School with the parents when they were able.

There was a good parsonage at West Greece, close to the church, which is now occupied by the Congregationalist people. The members and people of the community were very kind and friendly and we were well cared for. Papa received the highest salary ever in all his itinerancy, -$500 .00, promptly paid. We then bought a few much needed articles of furniture and a new ingrain carpet for the parlor. Previously, we had only rag carpet.

We enjoyed two good years there, during which time another baby boy came to bless the home. We called him Clinton Omer, the middle name after his father and Clinton after Clinton B. Fisk, who was the Prohibition Candidate for President that fall.

Ater serving the allotted two years on Parma and Chili Circuit, Conferernce assigned us to Akron charge, on the Buffalo District. Parma and Chili were on the Genesee District. Before we left West Greece, the ladies of the church met together. One was a dressmaker and made two dresses aplece for each of the girls; one for school and one for best. Another Sister, who was a dressmaker made a dress and other things for the mother. So we were all pretty well clothed to go to a new and strange place.

Very reluctantly, arrangements were made to leave this place where we had a nice, pleasant place to live, close to the church and school, kind friends and intelligent, understanding members who had, so nobly, stood by in everything pertaining to the work of the Lord; in revival services and every way. All the kindness shown through sickness and health during those two years will never be forgotten. More of this will be recorded in another chapter.

When the goods were all pocked and everything was in readiness, we departed with our little flock which now numbered five.

At the end of the long and tiresome journey, we arrived at the village of Akron and went to the home of Brother and Sister Ed Hart, who gave us a hearty welcome. As the house occupied by the former pastor, Rev. O.O. Bacon, father of Charles Bacon, was not ready to move into, we were made to feel at home, during our stay, with Brother and Sister Hart, which was a week or more. He was a fruit dealer, going into Buffalo nearly every day with a load of fruit to sell. Sister Hart was a lovely saint of God. Before the two years of our pastorate were up, she had taken cold, resulting in pneumonia, and died. Papa preached her funeral sermon. They had three children. I am sure she will not have lost her reward for all her kindnes to the wayworn preacher and his flock, for she welcomed us so heartily, fixing extra beds for the children and considering it a privilege to do it all.

As soon as the house was ready and our goods arrived, we went to our new home. Papa had secured the help of one of the members, a young lady living at Akron by the name of Belle Berkins, to assist with the work of settling and she stayed by us while we lived there and even went with us when we moved to Bolivar. She was a faithful helper.

The house where we lived was at the end of a short street, just back of the church, at the top of a large sand bank, which furnished great sport for the children, sliding down the sand and having lots of fun.

The church members at Akron were not monied people, generally speaking, so the salary was insufficient for the needs of the growing family. The father, equal to the occasion, took the agency for a washing machine which worked with a lever and was put out by Wiard Company at Le Roy. It was the same agency that manufactured steel plows. He sold quite a good many among the townspeople and outside. The wife of Orrin Pennell purchased one. They kept a grocery store on Main Street.

One day, Mlton wandered off downtown, alone, and could not find his way back home. Mrs. Pennel saw him wandering about and asked him, “Where do you live?” He could not tell, so she then asked, “What is your father’s name?” Not receiving a satisfactory answer, she said, “What does your mother call your father?” He replied, “Sometimes she calls him Mr. Blowers”. Then they knew who he was and where he belonged and brought him home.

While we were staying at Brother Hart’s, on Sunday night the grown-ups all went to church, left the little boys, Milton and Clinton, with the older girls. While we were gone, someone left the cellar door unhooked and Clinton got over there and leaned against it, falling to the bottom of the stairs. He was not injured seriously, but the side of his head was badly bruised and all were frightened, not knowing how seriously he might be hurt. It took quite a long time to heal.

One of our members, Lizzie Powers, who was lame and had to go with a crutch, lived at the foot of the sand bank. On Prayer Meeting nights in summer, she would come to church around through town; and it was dark, she would go to the top of the sand bank, gather her skirts about her and slide down,-a shortcut to her home.

In November, Grandma Palmer came to see us and stayed several weeks. While she was there a little baby girl was born, to whom we gave the name of Amelia, after her grandmother. Later on, the Missionary Secretary, Brother J. G. Terrill, brought a returned missionary, Grace Allen, to hold a service before returning to Africa, and they were entertained at our house. Miss Allen held the baby and sang to it in Zulu, saying she would like to take her with her to show the native women a white baby. We named her Grace after Miss Allen, so she is Grace Amelia.

Papa held a series of Revival Meetings at Akron with Miss Emma Worbois, Evangelist. Good results were obtained at this meeting and later, at Richburg, where he hod previously held a tent meeting and a goodly number of young people were clearly saved.

At Conference time, we were returned to Akron for the second year and in the summer, our Camp Meeting was to be held at North Tonawanda. There were quite a number of Sisters who wanted to go, but had no way and no one to help them with their luggage. So Papa spoke to one of the young men who had been saved and he said he thought the man he was working for would let him take his team and wagon. And so it was arranged. We were all to be together in the tent and each would help play and help work. On the day appointed, everything was in readiness and the young man came for the luggage. The ladies had their bedding loaded into the wagon. Belle took Clinton with her on the load. Mabel, Edna and some other children also rode on the load. Sister Hart, Sister Bartemus and their children rode in the surrey with Papa, baby Grace, Ruth, Milton, and the mother. We had a basket of lunch packed, which Papa put on the load, as the surrey was quite crowded, thinking we would overtake those on the load and eat our lunch together somewhere on the road. So they started out half an hour or more before we did, as Papa thought he would drive faster. At last, we started and after having gone far enough to overtake them, began to wonder why we did not see them, but kept thinking we would soon come up to them. A storm was threatening, dark clouds were gathering and soon a thunderstorm was on and we took shelter in a barn where the doors were open. We stayed there until the storm subsided then hastened on, hoping to find they had reached theCamp ahead of us. When we arrived there, we found to our consternation they had not come. The tents were already up, but there was nothing to put in them. Everything was on the load. Worst of all, what had become of the children? Had the team run away or had they been struck by a train at one of the many railroad crossings? Such thoughts would come to the minds of the anxious mother.

Time wore on, it grew dark, and still there was no sign of the missing ones. About nine o’clock, Papa went again out to the gate to watch for them and saw them coming with one horse and a borrowed buggy, but very little luggage. We were glad indeed to see them all alive and well. They said one of the horses was taken sick (they had taken a different route than the one Papa had told them to take), having been fed green oats the day before, and was not able to pursue the journey. Our gratitude knew no bounds when we knew they were all safe and sound. Fixing wraps and blankets on boards for beds we slept through the night and in the morning, Papa took his horse and helped bring in the baggage. The sick horse died after we got him home. After many obstacles were overcome, we enjoyed a good Camp Meeting.

While living at Akron, an epidemic of measles went through the school and one day, Edna came home sick with them. Even the mother took them and we all had them except Belle and Papa, who had their hands full in waiting on us, for we had to go to bed in a darkened room for a week or so.

In the fall of 1896, our two years at Akron were up and Conference sent us to Bolivar, way down to almost the farthest point south in this state, so a move across the state was inevitable, or balk. It did not take long to decide to obey orders, although they might not be from the Highest powers, it was permitted to be so and necessary preparations were made accordingly. Belle consented to go with us. We shipped our goods by train. By that time, Papa had two good horses and a three-seated buggy to accommodate the family and we started overland to Bolivar.

The journey was too long to cover in one day with horses, so we stopped at the home of Brother Charles English at Belfast. We were very kindly and hospitably entertained. The next day being cold and rainy, they persuaded us to stay over another night, which we were glad to do, taking the rest of the journey the next day, Thursday.

Arriving in Bolivar in the P.M., we found the parsonage, a very small, two-story house, close to the church, a nice apparently new building. We were invited to the home of one of the members, who lived nearby, for supper and to stay all night. After the goods arrived, we went to the parsonage and on Sunday morning, another baby girl was welcomed to our humble home. The preacher had not far to go to preach that morning and he told of the new arrival. Belle was such good help and Papa, such a good nurse, that outside help was unnecessary. The mother and the baby got along fine and Belle stayed with us for some time. The three older girls and Milton went to school; Milton, for the first time.

One day, while at play, Milton tore his trousers. Not wanting anyone to know it, he went into the clothesroom (off the mother’s bedroom) and prayed for the Lord to sew them up. The mother answered his prayer of faith. At school, he was playing with a ball and the teacher went to take it away from him, putting her hand in his pants pocket, but no pocket was there.

Bolivar, at one time, was a prosperous oil town, but many of the residents had become rich and moved away. There were many old tumbled-down buildings in the vicinity of the church and parsonage. Neighbors were some of the lower class, morally. Altogether, the mother never felt very much at home there and was glad to get away. Grandma Tracy was very sick and finally died while we lived there. We were all near her at the time of her death and the children made wreaths of wild flowers for her burial.

The church members were not noted for spirtuality and were not united in the work of the Lord because of failure to walk in the light, though for the most part, they stood by the preacher financially.

As soon as it was possible, Papa set about digging a cellar under the house, raising it up, and built a good cement bottom and inside wall. A mason was hired to build the outside wall.

Some men came into the village one day with three great big bears who performed. Hearing the music the children all started on the run in that direction, when they had been forbidden to go out of the yard without permission. On their return, they were each treated to a switching by the mother, but before she go through with the last one, the others were laughing. One of the neighbor’s boys, John Alden, used to come over to play with the children and they danced the bear dance with a stick for a cane.

There was an old hearse out in the barn when we went there. The children found a dead rat, put it into the hearse and backed it out and played with it.

At the end of one year, Conference, held at North Collins, sent us back to Randolph and Ellington. One year at Bolivar was aplenty and it was the only place we were ever glad to leave.

At Randolph, we moved into a house next to the bank on Main Street, as there was no parsonage at either place. There was a Union Church at Randolph where we had services Sunday mornings and in afternoon, it was used by the Episcopalians. They had an organ and other paraphernalia in one side.

After living there for awhile, one of the teaches from their Sunday School called at our house and wanted to know if Milton could come to their Sunday School. She wanted him to be in her class to help the other boys. He was a model boy. We told her we did not want them taught doctrines contrary to the Bible.

Papa hired Mrs. Pike, a music teacher, to give music lessons to the three older girls while we lived there.

Milton had a very nice teacher in school, Mrs. Bushnell, whom he thought a great deal of. So did we all. She took supper with us one day after we moved up on the hill in Mr. Hurd’s house. Mrs. Bushnell put on a play or soldier’s drill in school, I think for Washington’s Birthday. Each boy had on a uniform and carried a wooden gun which looked very real. Then she had an ex-soldier there to train them as he was trained in the army. The uniforms and caps were made after the same pattern; buttons covered with orange-colored cloth to look like brass, fringe on the shoulders made from the same, like epaulets. Finally, the day arrived and the boys did look nice. Milton took the lead, carrying his gun, going through all the maneuvering of soldiers, without a break. It was very interesting to watch.

While we were living up on the hill, the boys, Milton and Clinton, were sliding down hill on a pair of bobs the father made for them. A neighbor boy wanted to steer them down the hill, so they let him and when they reached the foot of the hill, they bumped into a tree and broke Clinton’s leg. Papa brought him into the house, laid him on the bed and sent for the doctor to come and set the broken bone. He lay in bed for six or seven weeks and then had to go on crutches for some time after he went back to school.

When the two years of our pilgrimage were up, Conference sent us to Forestville and Fredonia and Uncle Hasson was sent to east Randolph and Ellington. There was a parsonage at Forestville, near the church, and a swiftly flowing creek back of them both, below the bank. We found some very good, reliable pilgrims at bothForestville and Fredonia. There was also a good school at Forestville, where the children who were old enough attended. At Christmas time, the church people presented us with the first whole set of dishes we ever had. They were very nice and greatly appreciated. Papa held Revival Meetings there and had some success. The townspeople elected him Tax Collector, which helped some with finances. They also sent him to Bloomington, Illinois, as a delegate to the National Prohibition Convention, which he greatly enjoyed.

In February, 1900, another baby girl was welcomed into our home. Upon returning from school, the older children found the baby lying in the big rocking chair and gave her a kiss of welcome. We named her Myrtle Elizabeth.

At the end of the first year, Conference returned us to Forestville and again the second year, the beginning of the third year limit. Our little Lois Carol came to gladden our hearts also, during our stay at Forestville.

Another long move was ahead of us after the three years there were over, for Conference sent us to Ransomville, where, in the process of time, our dear little Lillian was born. The boys and girls were in school and expenses were increasing, but salary was not. We stayed at Ransomville only one year.

When the appointments at Conference were read, O. C. Blowers was left without appointment. Such a blow! We were nearly floored. For some time, we did not know what to do or which way to turn. Finally, Papa saw Brother O. Regan, Chairman of Chautauqua District, and it was arranged that we should go to Forestville and Papa would supply Silver Creek and Irving.

Back we went to Forestville, renting a house, just outside the village, from Mr. P. O. Tower. Papa preached regularly on Sundays with very little remuneration and during the week, he worked and planned and did everything he could find to do to earn a little to support the family.

Sickness came, Clinton had pneumonia and had to have a doctor for several weeks. For a time his life was almost despaired of.

Our little Lois Carol, who had never been very well, gradually grew worse and one morning, her pure spirit took its flight to a better world where “sickness, sorrow, pain and death are felt and feared no more”. Mother Tuxford very kindly offered us a place in their family plot in the cemetery nearby, for burial.

Again taking up the duties of life, the older girls obtained work in the canning factory nearby. The boys did all they could to help along in every way, outside of school, and we managed to get through the winter.

When summer came, we started a Sunday School in the Polish district on Sunday evenings. Gospel songs were sung, large quantities of Sunday School Papers and Picture Lesson Cards were given out, and the Gospel was brought to them. We found some very nice young people among them. We hope some good was accomplished.

At Conference, we were returned to Silver Creek and Irving and at the close of another year of labor, Conference saw fit to appoint us to Collins Center and Marshfield. Here, we had a small parsonage which was pretty well filled when we all got there. The church was a little distance away. There was also a church at Marshfield. It is said that before this church was built, the Free Methodists used to meet for a preaching service under a certain tree near the place where, afterward, the church was built. The owner of the farm where they assembled was disturbed by the worshippers and on Saturday, he turned loose a large flock of turkeys which roosted in the tree. The result was that a church was built.

We served this charge for three years, during which time our Everett Palmer was born and there was plenty of room for him. Later, another baby boy, Edward Paul, was born. He only lived three days. Uncle Charles, who lived at Gowanda, and Papa took the little body to the Bartlett cemetery for burial. From Collins Center, Conference sent us to Gaines, Orleans County. After our goods were packed and loaded on the train, Papa and I and the younger children went to Uncle Abels to stay all night. The older ones had gone with the team and some things that had not been put on the train.

At night, I had gone upstairs to put the children to bed when a message came that Grandpa Palmer had passed away. There was no way of letting the older children know, as we could not locate them. In the morning, we went to Hamburg on the train and stopped at Cousin Horace Hunt’s. In the evening, we took the train from Rushford. Grandpa was laid out on the couch (which we now have). He looked so peaceful, as if just sleeping. His last words had been, “Peace be multiplied unto you”. His life, spent for others, was ended and he was at rest from all suffering. Always patient and kind, he was a benediction to all who knew him.

Next day, we continued the journey to our new field, sorrowing, yet rejoicing. Upon reaching Albion, we found they had heard of Grandpa’s death through Brother Reber.

At Gaines, there was a nice large parsonage with plenty of room for our large family and for two more little boys, La Verne Stanley, who arrived January 5th and Richard Irving, on September 26th. This was the third and last year of our stay at that place. The older girls and boys attended high school in Albion. The younger ones attended the district school at Gaines. Ruth, Milton, Clinton graduated from Albion High School and Edna was teaching in Love District, not far away.

Three very full years passed, each bringing its share of labor, tears and triumphs, at the end of which time we were sent by Conference to Sweden, a most unpromising place. Nothing daunted, Papa went home from Conference and packed up the goods alone, nearly, as the mother was too weak to be allowed to sit up in bed, and the older boys and girls were away. He was taken violently ill with Ptomaine Poisoning and had to lie down and send for help in the night. The congregationalist preacher and his wife came to the rescue and later the doctor, and soon he was up again. Sensing the urgent need, Mrs. Burroughs, the minister’s wife, told him to bring the mother and baby to their house and stay while they were moving. So when they were ready to take the goods, he carried the mother and baby Richard to the buggy and took them to his house, where they were well cared for, until she was able to take the trip to Sweden. Grace and Lena had gone ahead, Lena carrying Stanley on the load of goods. They and Papa had the goods pretty well settled and the house warm when the mother arrived. She gradually regained her strength and again took up the care of the children and the household.

Grace and Lena attended high school at Bergen, where Edna was then teaching, and the younger children went to the district school in Sweden. Clinton went to Greenville College and Milton, to Buffalo Normal.

One Sunday, when he was home, Milton came to the dinner table with his hair parted in the middle, which quite displeased his father and he voiced his displeasure. Milton very calmly replied, “if that is the way you feel about it, I’ll change it”. He arose from the table and made the change good-naturedly, showing respect for his father, and the true nobility of his character.

But here is the end of the book…………