moment. He settled at Watertown, Massachusetts, where he and some of his descendants lie buried. Solomon Garfield, one of Edward Garfield's descendants, soon after the Revolutionary War, in which the Garfields upheld fully the honor of their name, moved with his children, one of whom bore the name of Thomas, to Worcester, Otsego County, New York. It was here that Abram Garfield was born.

When the question came up in the quiet of the siraple family circle: What shall we name the boy? not many minutes' discussion decided that he should be called after his uncle Abram, a man who deserved well of his country, for he served it well. He was among the foremost of the farmers who, with their rusty rifles, hastened to repulse the British assault on Concord Bridge; and he was selected, with John Hoar, grandfather of the pres ent Judge Ebenezer Rockwood Hoar, as witnesses. whose depositions concerning the British assault were taken at the request of the Continental Congress, which wished to show that the British government made the first illegal aggression, and began the War of Independence.

The young Garfield bearing his uncle's worthy name, was born in December, 1799. When two years old he lost his father by an attack of the small-pox, and the boy henceforth was under the care of a mother who possessed a sufficient measure, of those sterling virtues the women of our

Revolution always displayed, to give him a sturdy start in life. What education he gathered was obtained at the maternal knee, and his constitution became hardened and moulded on the broad fields of the family farm. As a boy, rugged and suntanned, he had made the acquaintance of a prim little girl, born in a New England town, Eliza Ballou by name, who interested him not a little, and who occupied such of his moments as were given over to heart hopes and heart troubles. Eliza Ballou moved West, and left Abram Garfield alone in his Eastern home. He was not long following where his heart prompted, and in the autumn of 1819 he journeyed westward to meet and win his bride.

But

The leisure hours from his occupation-a contractor's work on the Ohio Canal-were agreeably filled in with the courtship of Eliza Ballou, whom he in due course married. His contractor's work over, the canal built, with a fair profit in his pocket, he moved to Orange, Cuyahoga County, and bought a piece of land. He moved practically into the wilderness, for there was but one house within seven miles. Life here flowed quietly on, just as in many another Western log cabin. The father managed his farm, and added an acre or two of clearing to it every year. The mother looked after the cabin comforts, and did what she could to make her children fit for the struggle of existence. The father prospered fairly.

The little country town grew rapidly, neighbors gathered on other farms, and a larger, more vigorous life settled upon the little place. Everything went well until the outbreak of the fire mentioned at the opening of this chapter. The death of Abram Garfield was the first cloud upon a life of successful happiness.

The children, who were around their father's death-bed on that eventful morning of death, were four, the eldest, a girl, Mehetabel, bearing her grandmother's Puritan name; the second, Thomas, called after his uncle; the third, Mary, and the last, the blue-eyed baby, James Abram, christened for his great uncle, almost as soon as he was born (November 19th, 1831).

It is the life of this boy, James Abram Garfield, that is portrayed in the following pages.

CHAPTER II.

THE HOME IN EARLY DAYS.

E

LIZA GARFIELD had but a sunless prospect before her the morning after her husband was buried. A small farm incumbered with debt, a dense forest only partially broken by clearings, a scattered population almost as poor as herself, made up her immediate environment. Putting aside the mistaken but kindlymeant advice of friends, she said the house should not be broken up, the children should not be scattered. Advisers yielded to her will, and she had her way. She took up the mantle of head of the family, and with that brevet rank which widowhood never fails to confer upon deserving women, she made herself thoroughly respected by her sterling force of character and high resolve to dare and do for the weal of her children. Though small of stature, and thirty years of age, she had the ability and energy of a larger and older woman. The farm was to be kept up, the home continued as it had been since 1830, the "four saplings" cared for until they were ready to be transplanted. Then, and not till then, would she give up the farm.

This was a resolve that boded a harvest in its