I thought it would appear rougher to him
than he expected or could imagine. He said he would like to go back
sometime and see the country once more. He kept putting it off from year
to year. It is said, "Procrastination is the thief of time." He never
went. He bought him eight acres more land joining his two places. He paid
for it seventy dollars an acre and had some money left.
Part of the eight acres was a ridge covered with chestnut trees. Father
enjoyed himself there very much, a few of the last falls of his life,
picking up chestnuts. He was a man a little over six feet tall. He walked
straight and erect until the sickness, which terminated his existence in
time, at the age of seventy-six years, in the year 1869. He went the way
of all the earth. The rest of the family and I, missed him very much. Our
counselor and one of our best friends was gone. He had fought his last
battle and finished his course.
Mother survived him. She gave each of the children a silver piece (they
were all old coins of different nations and times, each worth a dollar or
more) which father had saved in an early day.
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