From South Cedar I returned to Farmington and found a nine month's school waiting for me at fifty dollars per month. So I accepted the work and continued it for five years at an advanced salary of sixty-five dollars per month. In the meantime, June the 28th, 1870, I was married to Miss Rosetta Butler who still lives to bless my life, and is still a true helpmeet in my old age. Shortly after our marriage we begin the erection of a new, farm home for ourselves about one-half mile west of the station. It was not long until we had a home, not a palace, but a home though humble, yet tidy, convenient and good enough for a queen, as in fact, it was occupied by a queen. Nor do I think, boys, could anything but compliments be placed by our old neighbors upon the way things were kept all about our farm when you were there. Do you remember the old Farm? And let me say just here that while God has always been good to me and comparatively my whole life has been a happy one no period of it was more happy, more hopeful and sweet than the few years in our old home where I was the head, your mother the queen and you children were about our knees. For just twenty-five years we (wife and I) lived at Farmington. This is just half of the life of my man-hood days. Here all our children were born. By us no threshold was ever crossed more than this one. No paths were ever trodden more frequently than the paths to the well, the barn and the post-office, and the church. No neighbors were ever so long ours in kindness and love. No birds ever sang so much and sweetly as those in the very trees that had been planted by our own hands. And no home was ever more truly dedicated day by day to Almighty God upon bended knee and in the reading of His word. Do you remember the old home, boys? But life is not always sweetness. It cannot be, under the present sin-curst environments. The first bitter experience and great sorrow that came to us, was when death came our way on the 21st day of July 1877, and took away our fourth little boy whom we had called Wiley Warren. He was only 1 year, 6 months and 17 days old. I had preached the funerals of many little children before the death of our little boy, and had thought that I knew how to sympathize with parents who had to bury their children, but I did not. If I were not an old preacher I would like to say now what I have said often when younger, that everything else being equal, an old preacher is better to preach, and do pastoral work for a congregation than a young one. ---0--- C H A P T E R F O U R T E E N 110 years. 28th of June, 1884. 4 and 3.