From the Gentry Saga by Earnest Clarence Gentry:
According to Grandpa, Jane Elliott was the essence of all that is good--well-educated, of Scotch Presbyterian parentage, golden dark auburn hair, brown eyes and a soul of great understanding and love, mothering her oldest boy scholar and, on his decision to go from home, to go with him and share the rigors of frontier life. She had her own horse, Jennie, which she had ridden from house to house in her teaching as there was nothing but private schools.
I can recall only a few of the details of the journey but the one thing that impressed me most was that at their first camp at night Grandpa asked Grandma if she would rather go back and she quoted from the Bible that there was no looking back, that God was just as close to them wherever they were.
The winter was uneventful only for one thing. Sometime in February, while Grandpa was out hunting, a party of about 25 Indians came trapsing in from the north, having seen smoke coming from the new stick-and-clay chimney. They were hungry and Grandma fed them what was on hand. The chief had her take down her long golden braids of hair and each Indian rubbed and stroked her golden locks, then held up the open palm of their hands in token of wonder and admiration. Nearing home, Grandpa ran across the trail of the Indians and as it led toward the cabin he exercised all his caution, fearing he had committed an awful mistake and expecting the worst. Everything seemed to be all right, the smoke came out of the cabin, the horses dozed in the sun by the cliff, but he was not certain he heard Grandma's clear sweet voice singing one of her old psalms of what a protection was God of his children. His joy was so great that he blamed himself for leaving her for so long, but she only said, "Jimmy, it's maybe best you were not here as they may have resented a show of force."
According to Grandpa, Jane Elliott was the essence of all that is good--well-educated, of Scotch Presbyterian parentage, golden dark auburn hair, brown eyes and a soul of great understanding and love, mothering her oldest boy scholar and, on his decision to go from home, to go with him and share the rigors of frontier life. She had her own horse, Jennie, which she had ridden from house to house in her teaching as there was nothing but private schools.
I can recall only a few of the details of the journey but the one thing that impressed me most was that at their first camp at night Grandpa asked Grandma if she would rather go back and she quoted from the Bible that there was no looking back, that God was just as close to them wherever they were.
The winter was uneventful only for one thing. Sometime in February, while Grandpa was out hunting, a party of about 25 Indians came trapsing in from the north, having seen smoke coming from the new stick-and-clay chimney. They were hungry and Grandma fed them what was on hand. The chief had her take down her long golden braids of hair and each Indian rubbed and stroked her golden locks, then held up the open palm of their hands in token of wonder and admiration. Nearing home, Grandpa ran across the trail of the Indians and as it led toward the cabin he exercised all his caution, fearing he had committed an awful mistake and expecting the worst. Everything seemed to be all right, the smoke came out of the cabin, the horses dozed in the sun by the cliff, but he was not certain he heard Grandma's clear sweet voice singing one of her old psalms of what a protection was God of his children. His joy was so great that he blamed himself for leaving her for so long, but she only said, "Jimmy, it's maybe best you were not here as they may have resented a show of force."
From the Gentry Saga by Earnest Clarence Gentry:
According to Grandpa, Jane Elliott was the essence of all that is good--well-educated, of Scotch Presbyterian parentage, golden dark auburn hair, brown eyes and a soul of great understanding and love, mothering her oldest boy scholar and, on his decision to go from home, to go with him and share the rigors of frontier life. She had her own horse, Jennie, which she had ridden from house to house in her teaching as there was nothing but private schools.
I can recall only a few of the details of the journey but the one thing that impressed me most was that at their first camp at night Grandpa asked Grandma if she would rather go back and she quoted from the Bible that there was no looking back, that God was just as close to them wherever they were.
The winter was uneventful only for one thing. Sometime in February, while Grandpa was out hunting, a party of about 25 Indians came trapsing in from the north, having seen smoke coming from the new stick-and-clay chimney. They were hungry and Grandma fed them what was on hand. The chief had her take down her long golden braids of hair and each Indian rubbed and stroked her golden locks, then held up the open palm of their hands in token of wonder and admiration. Nearing home, Grandpa ran across the trail of the Indians and as it led toward the cabin he exercised all his caution, fearing he had committed an awful mistake and expecting the worst. Everything seemed to be all right, the smoke came out of the cabin, the horses dozed in the sun by the cliff, but he was not certain he heard Grandma's clear sweet voice singing one of her old psalms of what a protection was God of his children. His joy was so great that he blamed himself for leaving her for so long, but she only said, "Jimmy, it's maybe best you were not here as they may have resented a show of force."
According to Grandpa, Jane Elliott was the essence of all that is good--well-educated, of Scotch Presbyterian parentage, golden dark auburn hair, brown eyes and a soul of great understanding and love, mothering her oldest boy scholar and, on his decision to go from home, to go with him and share the rigors of frontier life. She had her own horse, Jennie, which she had ridden from house to house in her teaching as there was nothing but private schools.
I can recall only a few of the details of the journey but the one thing that impressed me most was that at their first camp at night Grandpa asked Grandma if she would rather go back and she quoted from the Bible that there was no looking back, that God was just as close to them wherever they were.
The winter was uneventful only for one thing. Sometime in February, while Grandpa was out hunting, a party of about 25 Indians came trapsing in from the north, having seen smoke coming from the new stick-and-clay chimney. They were hungry and Grandma fed them what was on hand. The chief had her take down her long golden braids of hair and each Indian rubbed and stroked her golden locks, then held up the open palm of their hands in token of wonder and admiration. Nearing home, Grandpa ran across the trail of the Indians and as it led toward the cabin he exercised all his caution, fearing he had committed an awful mistake and expecting the worst. Everything seemed to be all right, the smoke came out of the cabin, the horses dozed in the sun by the cliff, but he was not certain he heard Grandma's clear sweet voice singing one of her old psalms of what a protection was God of his children. His joy was so great that he blamed himself for leaving her for so long, but she only said, "Jimmy, it's maybe best you were not here as they may have resented a show of force."
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