OHIO STATEWIDE FILES - Know your Ohio: Tidbits of Ohio -- Part 105 ************************************************************************ Copyright. All rights reserved. http://www.usgwarchives.net/copyright.htm http://www.usgwarchives.net/oh/ohfiles.htm ************************************************************************** File contributed for use in USGenWeb Archives by: Darlene E. Kelley http://www.genrecords.net/emailregistry/vols/00026.html#0006374 March 12, 2008 http://www.usgwarchives.net/oh/know.htm ************************************************ ++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ Historical Collections of Ohio And Then They Went West Know Your Ohio Tid Bits -- Part 105 A Salute to Pioneer Mothers From " A Souvenir " 1896 ++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ A Salute to You Pioneer Mother Here's to the grand old mothers, ours, Who in the days of yore, Presided over the cabin homes On Erie's southern shore; Who left New England's Pilgram shrines For Western glade and glen, As consorts on the wild frontier Of stern and rugged men. 'Twas theirs to cross the storm tossed lake In crafts of the rudest kind; Over forests or on the beach In strange wehicles wind For days and weeks, until at last, Wearied in limb and soul, With none to kindly welcome them, They'd reached their long sought goal. Beneath the forest arching boughs Began their earnest work, And be it to their credit said They ne'er did duty shirk They learned the hang of trammel pole To swing the crane as well; The richness of their ember cakes No modern tongue can tell. They learned to make the deerskin bed; When feathers later came, Then picking geese, heads stocking bound, Became exciting game; With care they mopped the puncheon floor; Nor carpet ever laid, And yet no brighter homes than theirs Has carpet ever made. Their babes were rocked in sap troughs rude, For want of better thing; And with right tuneful lullaby's They made their cabins ring. Most joyfully they hailed the day Of cradles made from board, And with them a tiny rattlebox Of acorns in a gourd.. They often changed the garments old, Their fathers erst had borne, And these in tasty Sunday suits Were by the children worn. They knew how sulphur to apply, To ply the fine tooth comb, Expelling emigrants that sought Their children's heads to roam. When night adown her curtain let, They set piled brush aflame, And then thrust in the sickle keen, When golden harvest came, They raked the hay in winrows long, And loafed it quit so neat; Each woman was to husband then " An out of doors helpmeet." They pulled the flax in autumn time, In winter carded tow, And in the sugar making spring Spead wax upon the snow. From forest, following tinkling bell, The herds they gathered home; And when were cut the bee trees down, Made wax of honeycomb. They, women of expedient, Burned cobs to soda make; Corn grated in its season, too, For juicy Johnnycake; To venison did woodchuck convert When came the preacher 'round; And gave him nicest spice-wood tea, And toast when bread was found. They leached their ashes in a gum, Made soft soap that excelled; With which from out their wardrobes slim, They well all dirt expelled; When " butchering " came in early fall, They deftly tried the fat, And corner for the cobbler fixed Where he might " whip thhe cat." His cowhide shoes were highly prized, They wedding shoes became For many a daughter in these homes, Ere she became a dame ; Oft they to church barefoot went, Those dainty soles to save; For know you well, each mother then To fashion was no slave. They little had to fashion feed; 'Twas always " cut and carve " To cover back and stomach fill -- 'Twas hustle 'round or starve. And yet, some way, they made ends meet, As ran the years along; And never women more deserved To be embalmed in song. They claimed as neighbors, even those Whose miles away might live, And borrowed of them flour and fire, Molasses, sugar, salt, and sieve; Whenever visitors there then came, In eve or afternoons Forth sent they children borrowing Knives, tablecloths and spoons. Now smile we, at the idea, With abundance e'er at hand, But behold 'mid scenes soul-trying Mothers fit for any land; The blood and nerve they left us, Let us worthily inherit, That they through generations, may Run blood and nerve of merit. It was blood that prompted action. It was nerve that guided stroke 'Til early haunts of savage To a higher life awake; 'Til farm house, school and church spire, And many a town, I ween, Took the place of primal forest And its vested garb of green. They watched beside the palid form. They soothed the fevered brain; 'Thro " fever 'n' ager" wasted oft. Theirs seldom to complain; They closed the eyes of old and young With an angelic care; And oft the funeral service marked Some mother's earnest prayer. Their deeds of charity would fill Full many a printed page, And yet no herald set them forth As in this newsy age; But in that court where justice reigns. Them credit will be given And certain theirs a rich reward Well merited, in Heaven. Thei weakness were truly few, And very far between; The gravest, their grandaughters say. Was in the snuffbox seen, Or in the corncob pipe, perchance, Which soothed their weary powers; Would these could say this many a year. That " Faults as few as ours;" For whilst these fume, fret, and stew, And grace themselves with airs, Those bore in patience heaviest cross, And history declares That tho' there were some family jars, They took them as of course, Ne'er getting up in "tantrums" wild, Or suing for divorce. Without great school advantages, They trained a race of men Whose thoughts have thrilled a nation round, From platform, through the pen; Who in life's rugged battlfield, Their marks right well won't fade, As Tod, a Perkins, a Bown, too, A Kelly, a Latham, descent from Mayflower made. They reared a race of daughters fair, Who their mother' places fill, With a vim, determination, That what they will, they will; They are moving on the fountains Begirt with shame and sin, With the ever ringing life-cry " We know no word but win." Then here's to our grand old mothers, Worthy wives of Pioneers, Whose deeds shall grace the annals Of our first of many years; Tho' fames bright page ne'er marks them As subjects of reknown, We know that in a higher sphere, Theirs will be a radient crown. We will cherish well their memories In cheery lake shore homes; They shall be unto our children, Ever bright and fairy tomes; Inspirations to high motives, Through all the coming years;-- Such shall be the living spirit Of our Mother Pioneers. And we, their sons and daughters And grandchildren of all the year Will inscribe upon their brains banners, " All honor ", bright and clear; Yes all honor to our mothers, Who 'mid cares and toils untold, Bequeathes us an inheritance Richer far than hoarded gold. ++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ Tid Bits continued in part 106