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• Title	Early Days
  Author	Foster, Leonard G.
  Publisher	Publisher Unknown
  Source ID	S5
  Text	Twas in the early twenties When the wild and savage race Departed with their wigwams, and Log cabins took their place; The bear and deer and wild fowl Remained awhile to show What food kind mother nature on The Red Man did bestow. In all the streams the finny shoals, In great abundance grew, While in the air, the feathered tribes, In flocks unnumbered flew. “Tranquility and peace prevailed Upon each settler’s farm, For scalping knives and tomahawks Had lost their power to harm. The music of the axe rang clear From early morn ‘till night, While heaps of burning brush and logs Sent forth their gleam of light. The new Log Cabins now were seen Fast springing into view; And Ox-team ‘Schooners’ from the east Were six weeks coming through. “The little clearings that were made Soon brought enough to eat, For in each rooty, stumpy field Grew Indian Corn and Wheat. We struggled hard those early days To keep privations down, We hauled our cord wood many miles To what was called a ‘Town.’ With Ox-Team, ‘geeing, hawing,’ through The wild woods we would go, With snail-like locomotion that Was awkward, quaint and slow. “We drove the Oxen through the gap And down the barnyard lane, Unyoked, and housed and fed them well With fodder, hay and grain; Then, to the new Log Cabin door, Our weary footsteps led, We pulled the latchstring, entered in, And found the table spread. With mush and milk, and pork and beans, And good old pumpkin pie, No Angel food in heaven or earth Could better satisfy. “Around our rustic cabin door The climbing roses grew, The fragrant honeysuckle bloomed With flowers of varied hue. The sunflower and the hollyhock, Snowballs and lilies white, The daisies, pinks, and daffodils With lovely colors bright; The poppies, phlox and violets, And morning glories gay, All scent the air with odors sweet In memory of today. “A flickering tallow candle there Was all the light we had, Except the roaring fire-place, That made us warm and glad. We made those tallow tapers by A process wondrous slow, We dipped the wicking in the grease, Then out to see them grow; No strong electric light, or gas, Illumined our pathway bright, And yet our Tree of Knowledge grew By that dim candle light. “Dear mother had been spinning yarn, And reeling knots and skeins, And knitting socks and mittens With cheerfulness and pains; And there she was, that time of night, To welcome pa and me, Her angel face with loving smile Methinks I still can see! How plainly I remember now, Though weary, old and gray, When death came in our cabin home, And mother passed away. “Let’s climb the little stairway here, And walk the puncheon floor, To trundle bed, where mother tucked Us snug in days of yore, And gave us good-night kisses When our little prayers were said. ‘Twas ‘Now I lay me down to sleep’ And ‘Angels guard our bed’; Those lessons taught by mother dear Will follow you and me, And cling forever round our hearts As ivy round the tree.
  Linked to	Leonard Gurley FOSTER

• Notes

  One of several poems written by Leonard G. Foster.