THE WATER GATE

As I write, I have a picture in my mind of a little run, trailing, zig-zag through a sugar camp for more than a mile, then on through a meadow land perhaps three miles, and there this little run emptied into the Sheets Run. It was there that a water gate was doing duty, and is the base for three stories, each containing a laugh.

The first two stories concern myself. Very often after a hard rain this water gate would be held up by debris which had caught when the water had been at its highest. If the gate was up it was an easy matter for hogs or geese to come through into Mr. Hills meadow land. If this land was sown in grain, these hogs and geese could and did do much damage before the grain could be harvested. After the hard rain, giving the water time to recede, I would be sent out to shut the water-gate. This time I was busy pulling out the rubbish so the gate would come down, when looking up, I saw a black man coming straight down the road toward me. I had never seen a negro before. I was so scared I began climbing the high rail fence as fast as I could. I noticed as he passed by he laughed, so loud, but I didn't see anything funny. It was just at that time Mr. Morgan came riding by, and he was laughing as he said to me, "Ellen, you do not need to be afraid. That negro man that went by won't hurt you." I knew by that Mr. Morgan understood the situation, but nevertheless, I went home as fast as I could. When I told about the black man, Mr. Hill laughed and said, "Ellen, this negro man is the only one around in this country that I know about. He is a good citizen, and I fought for his privilege to vote for our President."

Another big rain, and I was sent to 'fix' the water gate. I got it down with very little trouble, and I was soon on my way home, and was part way through the sugar camp

when I decided I would like to take a boat ride. For my boat I found a big water trough. And what a time I had getting it into the water right side up. For my oars I had two sticks. I got in and pushed off. All went well until the "trough" floated into a whirlpool, then it was different. Down went the trough, girl and all, to the bottom. I floundered and rolled, and grabbed hold of bushes within my reach. By that time I was in shallow water, and I could wade out. The sun was shining and it was very hot. This suggested to me I could stand, or walk around wherever the sun seemed most powerful, and I would soon be dry. I got dry, but it had not occured to me that the time I had been gone was much longer than the usual time. The folks wondered what had happened, and Mr. Hill came himself to see. He did not scold me, but laughed and said, "Child, don't ever try that again, you might get drowned." I said, "I won't," and meant it. Before going home we went to the water-gate. Mr. Hill said, "As I am this near, I'll look how things are. I can see the wheat is heading up fine, and will soon be ready for harvest." How he praised me up as a flood-gate tender, looking at the pile of brush I had pulled out to let the flood-gate come down. We started home and went up by the run along the fence. We discovered the hogs, on the outside, were rooting under the fence. We carried big rocks and filled in where they had rooted, and as we left, he said, "Well, that seems secure, but I don't know, hogs can do lots of damage." When we got home Mr. Hill began telling how I had carried rocks to fix the fence where hogs had rooted under. He talked on about the trouble he always had with the hogs and geese on Sheets Run. Mrs. Hill asked me no questions, and as far as I know she never knew anything about my adventure in a sugar trough on Sugar Run.

In this incident, Mr. Hill and those troublesome geese, and all the officers of a Church, figured. The following day after we had fixed the fence, Mr. Hill told me to go down to the grain field. If everything was all right I was to hurry

right back, and if anything was wrong I was to stay and drive out anything that was in the field, and he would come quickly, for he would ride. He came, for both hogs and geese were in the grain. In my trying to drive the hogs out it made the geese scatter into the wheat-field the more. Then Mr. Hill was angry. He sent me to tell Mrs. Franks to come and get her geese. But she did not come. She told me to tell him there was no law against her geese being out on the commons, and he could fix his fence if he did not want the geese in his field. We had a time driving the geese out and while we were doing so, Mr. Hill killed two geese and he took them to the owner, Mrs. Franks. I was not with him, and I don't know what he told her, but I do know that he supposed she would keep the geese home, but she didn't. The next morning very early I was sent with the same orders; the geese were in the grain field. Mr. Hill came with a gun and shot four geese and threw them over the fence onto the road. Then he went to the Greenwalts and asked them to please keep the hogs up until after his grain was harvested, which they did. But nothing more was said of the geese killing for a few weeks, until this happened in a Methodist Church of which Mr. Hill was the Class Leader.

Seldom did Mrs. Franks ever come to this Methodist Church, but she was there this particular morning. It was the custom in this church for the Class Leader to stand before each man, woman or a child, and ask them if they had a testimony in regard to their salvation. When he asked Mrs. Franks the question, she rose up quickly and voiced "Quack, quack, quack," and with the last quack she was going out the Church door. There was a great effort on the part of all the official members to continue the meeting as if nothing had happened to disturb the meeting.

This Church was one of four in a circuit. Every fourth Sunday the preacher came to "Little Mills Church". And it so happened this was the day he came in late and knew nothing about the disturbance, which happened before

he arrived. Yet as I remember it, he sensed something was wrong. For in his prayer he implored GOD to move upon the people, and to break through, even here in Little Mills, that hearts may be melted with compassion, and that the "Christian" be impelled to walk carefully, for danger is always lurking near. And there were several words in that Prayer that I did not understand, he prayed with such desperate earnestness that I remember, and later understood their meaning. As soon as the congregation was dismissed, young and old grouped together, and began discussing what had taken place during Morning Class Meeting. Some talked loud, and others almost in a whisper. All the trustees surrounded the preacher, and he soon knew all that could be told of what had taken place. Mrs. Franks was not a member of the Methodist Church, so the point was, what could be done? All agreed that something should be done, so the officials were to meet on the next evening to agree on what that something should be.

They met and brought an indictment against Mrs. Franks for disturbing a Religious Meeting, and she in turn brought suit against Mr. Hill for killing her geese. I was the star witness for both sides. I had seen Mr. Hill kill the geese. Her lawyer got that out of me. I was so scared that I cried. Mr. Hill's lawyer had to tell of being sent by Mr. Hill to Mrs. Frank's, asking her to please keep her geese out of his grain field. I had to relate the message she sent back to Mr. Hill by me. The trial continued the second day, and it ended with a settlement of some kind for the geese, while the court had Mrs. Frank sign some kind of paper.

MY EFFORTS TO BE HOSPITABLE

On this particular day Mr. and Mrs. Hill had gone in to Ohio on business, and they expected to get back home about two o'clock. Along toward noon Mrs. Hill's brother came. I was the only one in the big house. Until after this occasion I was not allowed to make any fire in the cook stove when they were away. I knew Mr. Gorrell must be very hungry as he came such a long distance-from Beach Run. A happy thought struck me. I could do what Mrs. Hill always did; give him a glass of good Cattoba grape wine and a plate of cookies. After he drank the wine I had poured for him and eaten the little plate of cookies, he said, "I'm still hungry, I'll eat more cookies, but I'll have to have more wine". I took the glass and emptied all the wine from the bottle into it (which wasn't more than a swallow) and I said, "That's all in the bottle". He said, "Haven't they more wine"? Then I told him where it was, but I couldn't reach it. He said, "Maybe I can," and he did. He took a bottle of wine to the table with him where he poured and drank until that bottle was empty. By that time he began to act so strangely I felt afraid of him. I went out to the big road and I climbed up on top of one of the big posts of the gate which opened onto the road.

When I saw the Hills coming I ran down the road to meet them and gave them the alarming story that there was something dreadful the matter with her brother, Mr. Gorrell. Then Mrs. Hill asked me questions, and by the time we were in the yard I had told her I had given him cookies and wine. I asked, "Wasn't that all right"? She answered, "Yes, but there must be something else the matter, for that wouldn't make him sick". Then she said to Mr. Hill, "Jacob, don't put the horse away, you may have to go for Doctor Boone". He did not go for