MY BIRTH AND PARENTAGE--MY FATHER'S BUSINESS--HE EMPLOYS JOSEPH SMITH, JUN.--CHARACTER OF THIS YOUTH--I START IN BUSINESS FOR MYSELF--MY HEALTH COMPELS ME TO CHANGE OCCUPATION--JOSEPH SMITH, JUN., A CONSTANT VISITOR AT MY HOUSE--HE RELATES HIS EXPERIENCE--HIS STATEMENTS LEAVE NO ROOM FOR DOUBT IN ME--HE IS BITTERLY PERSECUTED. I was born September 13th, 1800, in Marlborough, Windham county, Vermont. My father's name was Joseph and my mother's maiden name was Polly Peck. My father moved into the state of New York, when I was nine years of age, and settled on the Susquehanna river, near the bend in Chenango county, town of Bainbridge, and stayed there two years. He then moved down the river six miles into Broome county, town of Colesville, and there remained nineteen years. My father owned a farm, a grist-mill and carding machine. He was not rich, yet he possessed enough of this world's goods to secure to himself and family, not only the necessaries, but also the comforts of life. His family, consisting of my mother, three sons and four daughters, he raised in a genteel and respectable manner, and gave his children a good common school education. My father was a sober, honest man, generally respected and beloved by his neighbors and acquaintances. He did not belong to any religious sect, but was a believer in the Universalian doctrine. The business in which my father was engaged often required him to have hired help, and among the many he from time to time employed was a young man by the name of Joseph Smith, Jun., to whom I was particularly attached. His noble deportment, his faithfulness and his kind address, could not fail to win the esteem of those who had the pleasure of his acquaintance. One thing I will mention, which seemed to be a peculiar characteristic with him in all his boyish sports and amusements; I never knew any one to gain advantage over him, and yet he was always kind and kept the good-will of his playmates. I continued to live with my father until I was twenty-five years old, or nearly so; and on June 7th, 1825, I married a respectable young lady, by the name of Sally Coburn. Her health was rather delicate. She had long held an honorable position in the choir of one of the most respectable churches in the vicinity; her father was a musician, and spent much of his time from home, which threw a heavy burden upon her mother in raising the family; this, however, she bore with much patience.