FAMILY HISTORY: POETRY Collection written by Elsie Strawn ARMSTRONG File contributed for use in USGenWeb Archives by: Les Howard Strawn Copyright 2006. All rights reserved. http://www.usgwarchives.net/copyright.htm http://www.usgwarchives.net/pa/somerset/ ________________________________________________ CHAPTER FOURTH When I came to Ohio With my oldest little son, I brought him in my arms, And my age was twenty-one. I do not think I rode Ten miles of that long way, But I walked and drove my cows, With my child, from day to day. My husband drove five horses, And he found enough to do, For the roads were very bad And a good deal of them new. The largest logs chopped off And rolled out of the way, But the smaller ones and rocks Still in the road did lay. Across the creeks and gullies Few bridges then were made, Neither on the said hill Was plied the hoe and spade. At night when I was tired, Lay down some rest to take, I would see the wagon falling, And the fright would make me wake. And in that hilly country Among the rocks on the side hill, If the wagon there upset I feared it would us kill. So I walked and drove the cows, Sometimes got in to rest, Then my afflicted child Lay constant at my breast. He then was one year old, And sometimes would look about, And not lay at my breast When I was walking out. There was a man came with us To help us on the way, But he let a noble horse run off, Perhaps on the third day. And for us to lose our cows As well as that fine mare, I thought it was not safe to trust Our cows quite to his care. The thing was understood That I should ride that mare, But soon after we got started The mare did disappear. Down the Monongahela River He said he saw her going, But for him to bring her back then Was more than he could be doing. In the year of eight, Fifty-three years ago, When I left my father's house For the state of Ohio. My father put my saddle on her And viewed her all around, Laid his hand upon her hip and said, "This mare's worth fifty pounds." She was a noble animal, She was both large and fine Husband paid two horses for her And then he called her mine. He fancied most the gray, The one that father to us gave, We did not enjoy them long, They did not with us live. Her color, chestnut sorrel, Her coat did always shine, She had the best good sense, Her nature, it was kind. When I came to a steep hill I would spring upon the ground, For then it was my practice The hills all to run down. And she would follow after As fast as well she could, When she'd come down the hill A canter, strike, she would. And soon she'd overtake me, And when I'd wish to ride, I'd climb upon a top, And she'd soon crowd up her side. And safely she did carry me, And kindly took me on; Her gait was very pleasant, A good horse to ride upon. I seemed then left on foot And confess I felt the loss For in the wagon was poor riding Compared to that good horse. But I was not discouraged, I trudged along the way, And I thought when I got settled I would see a better day.