Thursday, February 16, 1899
Some years ago, a little Pocahontas boy in the free school was learning to spell. He pronounced the letters, g-l-a-s-s, but had no idea what that combination was called. The teacher, to help him, suggested: “What do they put in the window at home?”
“Pap’s old britches!” replied the pupil.
This is what we call a seasonable anecdote.
COLD WEATHER NOTES
“Blow, blow, thou winter wind. Freeze, freeze, thou bitter sky,” says Shakespeare, and he must have had in mind such weather as we have known the past week or so. The oldest inhabitants remember such weather in 1857, 1867 and 1886.
The weather began to be unusual Sunday, the 5th. Then people woke up to find that snow had fallen very unexpectedly during the night. Monday, a snow fell to the depth of 11 inches, damp clinging snow that melted as it fell in sections whose altitude was less than that of Pocahontas. The snow clung to the trees, and the air in a few days became cold and damp.
Wednesday night was very cold, but Thursday night the thermometer went the lowest for many years. It ranged in Pocahontas from 21 to 30 degrees below zero. …
The phones, which used the wet battery, were frozen up, and the bells gave forth a most melancholy squeak for half a day. Business was suspended and everybody went to getting wood. …This cold finds all the weak places in the armor and in a man’s castle. We have not heard of anyone in our county but who is well provided for in the way of shelter, good sustaining food and clothes. The weather is hard on the doctor, the sick and the mail boys.
The mail had a hard time last Monday. The winds were drifting the snow and the roads were very heavy. The mail left Renick’s Valley about 7 p.m. There were eight bags of mail on one horse, the aggregate weight of which was 200 pounds. It reached here at 1 a.m. in the night. The mail boy did not go to bed, but sat by his fire awhile, and then started back.
The weather bureau registered the lowest temperature in West Virginia ever recorded. The records extend over thirty years. …
Forty years from now, this storm will be remembered as an old-time spell of weather such as will come no more forever.
SUDDEN DEATH
Our whole community was thrilled with sad surprise last Wednesday, by the unexpected death of Mrs. M. P. Slaven, relict of the late Randolph Slaven, of Huntersville, in the 68th year of her age. During the day she seemed unusually well and had partaken of a hearty dinner. Late in the afternoon she had gone to the woodshed to feed her chickens and was found in a sitting posture with a half shelled ear of corn in her lap. When her little granddaughter, Mamie, came to her, she tried to speak, but expired almost immediately thereafter. …
The interment took place on Sunday last at Huntersville where, notwithstanding the almost unprecedented severity of the weather, a large concourse of sympathetic friends followed her to her last resting place. …
We know of no one who has made herself more necessary to her loved ones or who will be more sincerely missed and mourned by her large circle of friends. … One always felt that it needed but Grandma Slaven’s presence to make all seem homelike and comfortable. …
Memorial services will be held next Sunday at Marlinton.
THE CONCORD HYMN
Sung at the completion of the Concord Monument April 19, 1836.
By the rude bridge that arched the flood,
Their flag to April’s breeze unfurled,
Here once the embattled farmers stood
And fired the shot heard round the world.
The foe long since in silence slept;
Alike the conqueror silent sleeps;
And Time the ruined bridge has swept
Down the dark stream which seaward creeps.
On this green bank, by this soft stream
We set today a votive stone,
That memory may their deed redeem
When, like our sires, our sons are gone.
Spirit that made those heroes dare
To die, or leave their children free,
Bid time and nature gently spare
The shaft we raise to them and thee.
~ Emerson
