A modern history of Windham county, Connecticut : a Windham county treasure book, Volume II, Part 19

Author: Lincoln, Allen B
Publication date: 1920
Publisher: Chicago : S. J. Clarke publ. co.
Number of Pages: 960

USA > Connecticut > Windham County > A modern history of Windham county, Connecticut : a Windham county treasure book, Volume II > Part 19

Note: The text from this book was generated using artificial intelligence so there may be some errors. The full pages can be found on Archive.org (link on the Part 1 page).

THE EVENING AUCTION

One of the moving pictures of early Willimantic days, say along 1865-75, was indicated about 7 o'clock in the evening by a boy who would traverse the

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central streets ringing a hand bell and calling out lustily : "Auction tonight at the vacant store in the Union (or some other) block," and by 7:30 the place would be crowded. Auctions are no less popular today ; but in those days they were one of the few places of amusement.

PLUCK AND PERSEVERANCE

The late John A. McDonald of the Willimantic Chronicle was a man of indomitable pluck and perseverance, though under the heavy physical handicap of tuberculosis from early manhood. He had frequent hemorrhages, several of which it seemed would certainly prove fatal; but he would lie in bed in perfect quiet until nature could reassert herself. Probably he had not less than thirty serious hemorrhages during a period of twenty-five years or more. A year or two before he died and when suffering from an attack which seemed likely to finish him, he smilingly whispered to a friend who approached his bedside: "This makes the twenty-seventh; I wonder how many a man can have and still come back!"

HOW A BLISSFUL SCHEME FAILED

Of course the boys used to go home with the girls after Sunday evening meetings, even in old-time high school days; but perhaps a plan in vogue in Willimantic at one time, about 1870-1875, was somewhat unusual. The Con- gregationalist Church (completed 1869) was gorgeously decorated in blue and gold as to its interior, and was known among "the younger set" as "the opera house"; the Baptists had recently installed a baptismal font under the pulpit, and so that place was called "the pond"; while the Methodist vestry was known as "the eel-pot"-I never knew why-all this among irreverent youngsters, who were nevertheless all the while impressed and their lives influenced for the better by these very churches which they thus characterized.

It often happened that the evening services at these three places would end half or three-quarters of an hour apart, consecutively; the Congregationalists usually got through soon after 8:30; the Baptists would hold on until 9 or a little after, while the Methodists could often be counted on to hold out until 9:30.

Hence during one winter the boys discovered that it was possible to go home with a girl from the "opera house," leave her promptly at "the door-step" with the usual ceremony,* and rush over to "the pond" in time to beau another girl home from there and secure another customary tribute; then back to "the eel-pot" and do the trick for a third time. In fact, one boy boasted that he had one Sunday night gone home with two girls from each of the three places- six girls and six tributes !

Such blissful experiences could hardly be expected to last; but the plan was upset in a rather unexpected manner. One Sunday night two enterprising youngsters who were devotees of this triple-or possibly double-triple-scheme, escorted two lively misses home from "the opera house," going down on Union Street; then, passing back by "the pond," they discovered that the meeting was likely to last fifteen or twenty minutes longer, so they went over to "the eel-pot" (one block away) to reconnoiter and see what the chances were for a full program. It looked good for a "protracted meetin'." there.

So they hurried back to the Baptists, quietly entered the vestry and took a

*If some of you modern folks don't understand this, read Edmund Clarence Sted- man's little poem, "The Doorstep."-Ed.

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back seat-only to discover that the same two girls they had a few moments before safely landed down on Union Street were demurely seated at the Bap- tists', awaiting developments. It meant, of course, a "give-away" of the whole scheme. The boys sought to bluff it through by offering escort to the same girls when the meeting was over, but the girls gave them a snappy "no," and walked over to the Methodists'! The story soon spread among schoolmates, and the triple plan never worked well after that.

THE ALPAUGH BOYS

Frank L. Alpaugh, superintendent of outside repairs and construction for the American Thread Company, kept his mother busy during the years when he was progressing from age three to (say) eight or ten. One day before he could talk plainly, his mother's patience became exhausted early in the fore- noon, and she told him she was going across the road to cut "a little tingling birch." When she came back, the door was bolted. "Frankie," she said severely, "You let me in at once." No answer. She rattled the door and used tones alternately threatening and persuasive. Finally, with climactic severity, "Frankie, you open that door instantly or I shall have to punish you very severely." "How you doe-in to, if you tant dit in ?"

They say that Clifford J. Alpaugh, assistant superintendent of the Amer- ican Thread Company, and with whom employes counsel on matters of differ- ence, is regarded as "level-headed," but not easily moved, and prone not to decide until he has made up his mind after full deliberation. Clifford showed this quality very early in life. When urged by his mother to hurry up he would often reply : "Wait a minute."

One night lie got the folks up because of internal disturbance. He was still hardly more than an infant, and his father held him while his rebellious stomach made him endure the penalty of too much candy. There was a lull in the proceedings, but still evidence of more to follow, and his father, probably anxious to get back to bed, called out : "Come, Cliff, hurry up." "Wait a minute," came the characteristic reply.

A RIGHTEOUS JUDGMENT

In the earlier days when bibulous conviviality was looked upon indulgently but drunkenness in public places was rebuked, it is related that a certain Wind- ham County lawyer had several times appeared in Superior Court under con- ditions not acceptable to the bench. It was well known that no love was lost between this lawyer and the particular judge who on a certain occasion severely rebuked him for his appearance in court in such condition.

"Mr .- , you have no business to appear before this court in that condition," sternly called out the judge.

"B-beg pardon, sir, that's the only righteous judgment I ever heard your honor render."

BEYOND BELIEF

One of the best known traveling men of the days when horses were still chief motive power on the highways, was the late William P. Stevens-"Big Steve, the candy man"-who traveled all over Connecticut for the Kibbe's of Springfield, Mass. His splendid four-horse outfit, with ornamental harness

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and a big wagon loaded with coveted sweets, was often awaited, especially by live youngsters, with an eager interest second only to the circus, and "Big Steve" "looked the part," of unusual stature, a very popular personality and a successful business man. In his later years he retired and made his home in Willimantic, having married a daughter of Charles Collins, a well-known hotel man who at one time kept the European House at corner of Main and Railroad streets. Among his friends was Samuel L. Burlingham, long the resident agent of the Holland Silk Mills, and now retired and living in Pasadena, Cal., though he usually spends the summer at Pleasure Beach, near New London. Both Sam and "Big Steve" were good story-tellers, and liked to recount to each other some unusual experiences.

One day Sam was telling Steve of his recent purchase of a building lot on the shore at Pleasure Beach. He had bought it, he said, of an old gentleman known to both of them as very "near," the New England word to describe one who holds his pennies close. Sam described his difficulties in reaching an agree- ment on price, but finally they came to terms and the trade was closed. "And then," said Sam, coming to the wonderful part of the story, "the old gentle- man took me up to Rose's store and treated me to a glass of moxie."

"What's that ?" exclaimed Steve, "you say he treated you to a glass of moxie?" "Yes sir," reiterated Sam.

Steve's face grew very solemn, and he finally said, "Sam, you and I have been good friends for many years, and I hate to do anything to disturb our friendship; but, Sam, when you undertake to tell me that the old gentleman treated you to a glass of moxie-Sam, you've gone too far. I simply don't believe it!"

THE BROGUE DIDN'T FIT THE FACE

During the winter of 1876-77 the students of Williston Seminary, at East- hampton, Mass., got up a minstrel show in which the writer took part. One of the "end men," who was adept at vernacular, had earlier in the evening imper- sonated an Irish maid, with free use of the "brogue." But for the minstrel part of the program which followed the play he was, of course, arrayed as a colored gentleman. His eyes sparkled from a coal-black face as he made ready to propound a conundrum, but what he said was this:

"Say, Moike, did yez hear av me ixperience on the avenoo the other avenin ?"

It was a perfectly unconscious break, and it was several seconds before he understood what convulsed the audience so.

NO SENSE IN DYING

A seven-year-old boy lived in the lower flat of a Willimantic house, where, in the upper flat, a man had just died. The widow wept continuously and aud- ibly for three days. The continuous weeping "got on the nerves" of the little boy's mamma. "I don't see the sense of her crying so loud." "I don't see the sense of his dying," remarked the lad.

FINE DAY FOR THE WAR

The weather is still the prevailing topic in Windham County. They tell a story of a back-country storekeeper of Sterling to whom a customer, while trad- ing, soon after the great war broke out in Europe, remarked, "Isn't it terrible about the war." "What war?" asked the storekeeper. "Why, they are hav-

Vol. II-10

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ing a terrible war over in Europe." "That so, who's fightin'?" "Why the Germans are fighting with the English and the French and the Russians." "You don' say !- wal, they got a nice day for't, haint they ?"

THE WORST OF IT

A well-known society woman in a New England university town recently remarked to her pastor, with perfect naivete: "Why, Dr. Brown, it is some- thing dreadful the way the Jews are buying up the best residences on the avenue; and the worst of it is, I don't see why they are not just as nice as any of us!"

WHAT IT TAKES TO BUILD A CHURCH

Some little time previous to the building of St. Paul's Episcopal Church at Windham Center Abner Hendee, Esq., of Hebron, who was passing through Windham, called at the tavern, and among the news related to him by the host was that "the Episcopalians of Windham were talking about building a church." Mr. Hendee, who had had some experience in building churches, as he had been a large contributor to the building of St. Peter's Church, Hebron, in 1826, responded: "Your Windham Episcopalians will find that it takes a d-d lot of talk to build a church."

WHOLLY UNNECESSARY

A certain bibulous individual came into Willimantic one day from the country a few years ago, and spent more money for booze than for necessities. He lost consciousness in the early afternoon and wakened next morning to find himself in the "lock up." He was brought into the police court and fined, and his name appeared in the local daily that evening. He kept very quiet about it around home, but a few days later one of his neighbors out in the country asked him about the matter and his explanation was substantially as follows:

"Wall, I didn't 'spose nobody knowed nothing 'bout that. "Twa'n't nobody's' bizness, and there wa'n't no sorter need on 't. I didn't du nuthin, an' they had no bizness to lock me up."

"Wall, they did, and yure name's in the paper," persisted the neighbor; "how did it happen ?"

"Wall, 'twas this way. I went down ter Willimantic to buy a few things. I got thru, and had a drink or two, and goin' 'round that corner by the hard- ware store on Railroad Street my legs got sorter wobbly, and I kinder slewed, and 'fore I knew it I fell down-just sorter slipped or lost my balance or suthin'-there wa'n't no sorter need on't and there wa'n't nuthin the matter ; I just sorter slewed. An' 'fore I could git up-I would-a got up in jes a min- ute or tu-but afore I could git up, one of them blue-coated fellers comes up and shakes me kinder rough and he says, 'Wake up, wake up!' Now I heered him all right, and ef he hadn't a-ben in such a tarnal hurry, I'd a-got up in a minute; but he kep' a shakin' me kinder rough like, and I started to git up, and slipped agin-there wa'n't no sorter need on't, but he was in too much of a hurry.

"So he leggo me and went and got one o' them big-'hack,' they called it; yep, that's it, 'hack'-an' it had two horses on it. Now there wa'n't no sort of need of them two horses, one would-a-ben enough-but they had two. An'

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that feller pushed me inter that box, an', an'-wall, he mus' a-done sump'n to me-there wa'n't no sorter need on't. I could a-come home all right ef he'd a-lemme alone. Dam pity 'f a feller can't be let alone when he's all right and doin' no harm to nobody. Stuck me $7 and costs, and there wa'n't no sorter need on't."

A true incident, faithfully reported; and he wasn't a "foreigner," either.

A SURE PROPHECY

There was, many years ago, an old darkie living over on the East Killingly Hills who was deeply religious and took the Bible very literally ; not as he read it, for he couldn't read; but as he heard its phrases from time to time. Quite in contrast to these later days, there had been a long period of drouth, and someone said to the darkie one day: "Seems as if it would never rain again." "Oh, yes it will," said Charlie, "for the Bible says so." "What does it say like that ?" said the pessimist. "Oh," was the prompt reply, "it says a great many times, 'The Lord raineth'."

HAVING THE TIME OF HIS LIFE

A certain deacon in one of the smallest towns was distinctly a home body, and ventured beyond the confines of his native town only two or three times during his long life. His first venture was when he was "drawn" to serve on the jury at Brooklyn county seat. It was the event of his life, and he looked forward with keen expectation to the journey. He had saved up a few hun- dred dollars and several weeks beforehand bought a new "top carriage" and new harness for the occasion. One day a neighbor called at the house to see him and was told that the deacon had gone out to the barn. There he was found, sitting in the new top carriage, the reins hitched to the thills and him- self in the attitude of driving with new whip in hand. "Why, deacon," said the caller, "what are you doing?" "Seeing how I'll look goin' over ter Brook- lyn," was the reply.

SNAKE STORIES

Mr. H. S. Morse, now of Indian Orchard, Mass., whose stories and remi- niscences of earlier life in Thompson are still remembered and quoted, is respon- sible for the following "snake story":

Joe Crosby, as we used to call him, said he had often heard of a hoop snake but had never seen one until one day he was hoeing in the field on a sidehill and he saw one coming with his tail in his mouth, rolling like a hoop right between the rows of corn, and on his approach Joe struck him with his hoe a full blow, but the snake took no notice of it but went right along. Joe said he went right on with his hoeing but in about a half an hour his hoe-handle turned black and swelled up as big as his arm and he made up his mind that that snake was a "desperate pisen critter."

Bre'er Morse further states that he and a friend were fishing one day in a swamp or meadow, and a "blue vasser" about ten feet long came after us and drove us both out of the swamp. He carried his head about four feet from the ground when he came after us, so you see he was some snake. IIe has been seen since by other parties, so you see we did not have all the whiskey that was in the party.

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ONE CLERGYMAN'S ELOQUENCE 1

The Rev. Horace Winslow was always a strong opponent of rum and tobacco and never hesitated to speak his mind on those subjects.

. Among his steady attendants at the Congregational Church, Willimantic, was an elderly woman who was very deaf, but who had always been to church and loved its companionship even when her hearing failed. She was in, thought sympathetic with the pastor's view against liquor. Mr. Winslow's oratory was of the sort which lifted the voice to correspond with the climax. After the sermon, on "Temperance Sunday," the good lady told a friend that she had "enjoyed the discourse very much." "But could you hear him ?" she was asked. "Oh, yes, I understood him perfectly." It appeared on explana- tion that as the pastor reached his peroration, he put cumulative questions as to the iniquity of the traffic and its long line of crimes, and then in very loud voice dramatically inquired, "What is the cause of all this trouble ?- R U M!" This one word the deaf lady heard and she understood perfectly what the sermon was about.

A feature of the temperance agitation during the '70s was a series of after- noon meetings in Franklin Hall, which often was crowded to the doors. One afternoon Mr. Winslow spoke especially of the evils of tobacco. By some slip of the tongue, which was no doubt exaggerated in the later telling, but which was enough to give the story foundation and currency, it was alleged that the pastor had exclaimed, at the height of his eloquence, "Young men, do you realize that one drop of nicotine on the end of a dog's tail will kill a man in a minute ?"

NOT EVIDENCE OF MILK DIET

One cold Saturday morning early in February, 1896, two staid and steady but somewhat ruddy-faced members of the First Congregational Church of Willimantic, specially commissioned for the purpose, left on the Central Ver- mont "boat train" about 6:30 to go via Brattleboro to Newport, Vt., to look up a new minister about whom very favorable reports had been received. Hardly had their train passed South Coventry when they were approached by a bibulous individual who produced a bottle and invited them to drink. They politely declined. After passing Stafford, he again invited them, and again they refused. Approaching Palmer, a third opportunity was offered and declined, with an incredulous look in the face of the would-be entertainer. At Palmer, after the life-long habit of those Central Vermont trains, there was an hour's stop-over; and when the train finally resumed its journey toward Brattleboro, the bibulous stranger gave evidence that both himself and his bottle had been replenished. Even more earnestly he urged his train asso- ciates to drink with him, so that finally one of them said, "Never mind, sir, we thank you, but we don't use it." "Don't (hic) use it! Well, you fellows never got those faces (hic) on milk!"

A LATER-DAY FROG STORY

A dear old story used for many years to "point a moral and adorn a tale," and especially interesting to children, if told by one who can imitate frog sounds, is that of the bibulous individual who was going home from Windham Center on the road towards Scotland, very late one Saturday night. He had,

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of course, to pass the famous "Frog Pond." Because of indulgence in "Wind- ham flip" or something lineal in moral as well as physical descent, he could walk with difficulty, and he had but vague sensibilities in action.

Somehow in trying to pass the pond he wandered to its edge and into the water. It was late in December and the icy, though still unfrozen fluid, caused him to stop. He heard a shrill piping call, which sounded to him like "knee- deep, knee-deep, knee-deep." Dimly comprehending, he lurched forward a few steps. There came another call in somewhat heavier tones. As he paused, it seemed to say, "Better go 'round, better go 'round, better go 'round."

But, although beginning to comprehend that there might be a meaning in it for him, he was still unconvinced, and started forward further, when a third voice, loud and shrill sounded in his awakening ears. "Over your head, over your head, over your head." And sure enough, as he floundered in, it so proved. He lost his balance and fell; and as his head went under and he inhaled chill water, he began an automatic struggle for life, somehow making his way towards shore. As he floundered, he could hear a series of quick sounds in rapid succession, as the now alarmed frogs dove 'to cover and safety all along the near-by shore-"Ker-chug, ker-chug, ker-chug, ker-chug, ker- chug, ker-chug." Finally, staggering to the shore, he lay down exhausted for a few moments. By this time the cold bath had considerably sobered him and he began to realize his predicament. "What brought me to this place?" he exclaimed to himself; and a deep guttural response came from the pond : "Jug o' rum, jug o' rum, jug o' rum." And, of course, he went home and lived happily ever afterwards.

SHOWED HIS BENT EARLY IN LIFE

Bernard W. Latham, younger son of William Henry Latham, of Latham and Crane, contractors, has attained high position as construction engineer on big jobs for railroads, and now lives in New York City. His wife was Helen Fenton, daughter of the late Robert Fenton, remembered as a railroad surveyor when the Boston to Hartford line was built and later a civil engineer who drew many valuable plans for the buildings and street construction in early Willimantic.

Bernard was crazy to see mechanical devices from the time when he could look at pictures. His grandfather, Edwin E. Burnham, a well-known market man and real estate owner, would often take the little fellow down to the rail- road station to see the cars, but of course not possibly as often as "Bernie" was anxious to go. One day grandpa had to go elsewhere, and after trying in vain to find someone else to take him, Bernie burst out, "Oh, dear; I'm bovvered to def to get anybody to show me an engine."

HIT BIRDS FLUTTER

At one time during State's Attorney Penrose's term there had been an extra amount of illegal liquor selling in Putnam and vicinity, and it appeared that the liquor was supplied retailers by one who, because of his political influence, had become known as "the Rum King of Windham County." It also appeared that certain aspirants for political favor who had become known as "the Killingly Ring" were depending upon the Rum King for political sup- port. One of this political coterie was a dealer in musical instruments, another

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a fire insurance man, another a maker of cloth. The Connecticut Home, pro- hibition newspaper, came out with a pointed article to expose the "ring," and said in substance that its membership included one who had an ambition to "make a little music in politics," another was "accustomed to take risks in his business, so thought he'd take a chance on his reputation," while the third "imagined he could make himself an official garment."

Everybody knew who was meant, and there was great consternation in the "ring" and great merriment throughout the county. In fact, members of "the ring" were mad clear through and determined to sue Editor Lincoln for libel. A well-known Putnam lawyer was consulted. "Let's see the article you complain of," he said, and he read it. "Well," said the lawyer, "no names are mentioned here; if it doesn't hit you, you needn't mind it; if it does, you'd better keep still"; and so no libel suit was ever brought; but the "ring's" political fortunes waned from that date.

GRAPHIC ILLUSTRATION

The Rev. Edward A. George, pastor of the First Congregational Church at Willimantic, 1896-1904, enjoyed very much a scriptural joke which he unwit- tingly played on himself at a Thursday evening prayer meeting. It had been . a beautiful day, one of the first of the coming spring, and he had enjoyed a long walk in the afternoon through the woods. On opening the meeting he read certain passages descriptive of the beauties of nature, and talked inti- mately of the wonders of spring and the inspiration of his afternoon walk. He would intersperse the scripture readings with suggestive comments. He told of coming out on top of Hosmer Mountain; of the wonderful view up the Willimantic valley and towards the rolling hills to the north and east; then of recalling and reviewing the exhilaration of boyhood tramps, and the indescrib- able refreshment of bending down over that bubbling spring at the crest of the mountain, and then he resumed reading :

"Where the wild asses quench their thirst." (Psalm 104.)

"JOINED TO HIS IDOLS"

There came to Willimantic from one of the outlying towns of Windham County, about forty years ago, a man who had suffered from a nervous break- down and who got an outdoor job in the borough in which he thought he might regain his health. He gradually recovered his physical strength, but his life was tinctured with reactionary spirit and he could not be induced to go among friends out of working hours, but would remain at home in spite of the efforts of his good wife to get him interested in getting acquainted with the people. In early life he had been a fairly steady church-goer and his wife tried to get him to go in Willimantic to the Baptist Church. His first name, by the way, was Ephraim. Finally he was induced to attend a Sunday morning service ; the opening exercises, the invocation, the hymns, scriptural reading, even the collection all seemed so familiar that he became quite interested. Finally the minister rose to begin the sermon of the morning and announced as his text : "Ephraim is joined to his idols; let him alone." He could never be induced to go to church again.

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A modern history of Windham county, Connecticut : a Windham county treasure book, Volume II, Part 19

Author: Lincoln, Allen B Publication date: 1920 Publisher: Chicago : S. J. Clarke publ. co. Number of Pages: 960

Author: Lincoln, Allen B
Publication date: 1920
Publisher: Chicago : S. J. Clarke publ. co.
Number of Pages: 960