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About the Authors
Richard Blum, CompTIA Linux+, LPIC-1, has worked in the IT industry for more than 25
years as both a system and network administrator, and he has published numerous Linux
and open-source books. Rich is an online instructor for Linux and Web programming
courses that are used by colleges and universities across the United States. When he is not
being a computer nerd, Rich enjoys spending time with his wife, Barbara, and two daugh-
ters, Katie Jane and Jessica.
Christine Bresnahan, CompTIA Linux+, LPIC-1, started working with computers more
than 25 years ago in the IT industry as a systems administrator. Christine is an Adjunct
Professor at Ivy Tech Community College where she teaches Linux certification and
Python programming classes. She also writes books and produces instructional resources
for the classroom.
Contents at a Glance
Introduction xix

Assessment Test xxxvii

Answers to the Assessment Test xliv

Part I Exam 101-400 1

Chapter 1 Exploring Linux Command-Line Tools 3
Chapter 2 Managing Software 47
Chapter 3 Configuring Hardware 107
Chapter 4 Managing Files 177
Chapter 5 Booting Linux and Editing Files 233

Part II Exam 102-400 277

Chapter 6 Configuring the X Window System, Localization,
and Printing 279
Chapter 7 Administering the System 343
Chapter 8 Configuring Basic Networking 407
Chapter 9 Writing Scripts, Configuring Email, and Using Databases 453
Chapter 10 Securing Your System 523
Appendix Answers 575

Index 613

ffi rs.indd 03/27/2015 Page ix

Contents
Introduction xix

Assessment Test xxxvii

Answers to the Assessment Test xliv

Part I Exam 101-400 1

Chapter 1 Exploring Linux Command-Line Tools 3

Understanding Command-Line Basics 4
Exploring Your Linux Shell Options 4
Using a Shell 5
Exploring Shell Configuration 13
Using Environment Variables 13
Getting Help 14
Using Streams, Redirection, and Pipes 16
Exploring File Descriptors 17
Redirecting Input and Output 17
Piping Data between Programs 19
Generating Command Lines 20
Processing Text Using Filters 22
File-Combining Commands 22
File-Transforming Commands 24
File-Formatting Commands 28
File-Viewing Commands 31
File-Summarizing Commands 33
Using Regular Expressions 35
Understanding Regular Expressions 35
Using grep 36
Using sed 38
Summary 41
Exam Essentials 41
Review Questions 42

Chapter 2 Managing Software 47

Package Concepts 48
Using RPM 50
RPM Distributions and Conventions 50
The rpm Command Set 52
Extracting Data from RPMs 56
Using Yum 57
RPM and Yum Configuration Files 61

ftoc.indd 03/26/2015 Page xi

 xii Contents

RPM Compared to Other Package Formats 62

Using Debian Packages 63
Debian Distributions and Conventions 63
The dpkg Command Set 64
Using apt-cache 67
Using apt-get 68
Using dselect, aptitude, and Synaptic 72
Reconfiguring Packages 73
Debian Packages Compared to Other Package Formats 73
Configuring Debian Package Tools 74
Converting between Package Formats 75
Package Dependencies and Conflicts 77
Real and Imagined Package Dependency Problems 77
Workarounds for Package Dependency Problems 78
Startup Script Problems 80
Managing Shared Libraries 81
Library Principles 81
Locating Library Files 83
Library Management Commands 85
Managing Processes 87
Understanding the Kernel: The First Process 88
Examining Process Lists 88
Understanding Foreground and
Background Processes 95
Managing Process Priorities 96
Killing Processes 97
Summary 99
Exam Essentials 99
Review Questions 101

Chapter 3 Configuring Hardware 107

Configuring the Firmware and
Core Hardware 108
Understanding the Role of the Firmware 108
IRQs 112
I/O Addresses 115
DMA Addresses 116
Boot Disks and Geometry Settings 117
Coldplug and Hotplug Devices 119
Configuring Expansion Cards 120
Configuring PCI Cards 121
Learning about Kernel Modules 122
Loading Kernel Modules 124

ftoc.indd 03/26/2015 Page xii

 Contents xiii

Removing Kernel Modules 125

Configuring USB Devices 126
USB Basics 126
Linux USB Drivers 127
USB Manager Applications 128
Configuring Hard Disks 129
Configuring PATA Disks 129
Configuring SATA Disks 130
Configuring SCSI Disks 130
Configuring External Disks 132
Designing a Hard Disk Layout 132
Why Partition? 133
Understanding Partitioning Systems 133
An Alternative to Partitions: LVM 136
Mount Points 136
Common Partitions and Filesystem Layouts 137
Creating Partitions and Filesystems 139
Partitioning a Disk 140
Preparing a Partition for Use 145
Maintaining Filesystem Health 151
Tuning Filesystems 151
Maintaining a Journal 156
Checking Filesystems 157
Monitoring Disk Use 158
Mounting and Unmounting Filesystems 161
Temporarily Mounting or Unmounting Filesystems 162
Permanently Mounting Filesystems 167
Summary 169
Exam Essentials 170
Review Questions 172

Chapter 4 Managing Files 177

Using File Management Commands 178
Naming Files 178
Exploring Wildcard Expansion Rules 180
Understanding the File Commands 180
Archiving File Commands 187
Managing Links 195
Understanding the Directory Commands 198
Managing File Ownership 199
Assessing File Ownership 199
Changing a File’s Owner 200
Changing a File’s Group 200

ftoc.indd 03/26/2015 Page xiii

 xiv Contents

Controlling Access to Files 200

Understanding Permissions 201
Changing a File’s Mode 206
Setting the Default Mode and Group 210
Changing File Attributes 212
Managing Disk Quotas 213
Enabling Quota Support 214
Setting Quotas for Users 215
Locating Files 216
Getting to Know the FHS 216
Employing Tools to Locate Files 222
Summary 226
Exam Essentials 226
Review Questions 228

Chapter 5 Booting Linux and Editing Files 233

Installing Boot Loaders 234
Boot Loader Principles 235
Using GRUB Legacy as the Boot Loader 238
Using GRUB 2 as the Boot Loader 243
Using Alternative Boot Loaders 245
Understanding the Boot Process 247
Extracting Information about the Boot Process 247
Locating and Interpreting Boot Messages 248
The Boot Process 248
The Initialization Process 249
Using the SysV Initialization Process 250
Runlevel Functions 250
Identifying the Services in a Runlevel 252
Managing Runlevel Services 253
Checking Your Runlevel 255
Changing Runlevels on a Running System 255
Using the systemd Initialization Process 258
Units and Targets 259
Configuring Units 260
Setting the Default Target 261
The systemctl Program 262
Using the Upstart Initialization Process 263
Using Upstart-Native Methods 264
Using SysV Compatibility Methods 264
Editing Files with vi 265
Understanding Vi Modes 265
Exploring Basic Text-Editing Procedures 266
Saving Changes 269

ftoc.indd 03/26/2015 Page xiv

 Contents xv

Summary 270
Exam Essentials 270
Review Questions 272

Part II Exam 102-400 277

Chapter 6 Configuring the X Window System, Localization,
and Printing 279
Configuring Basic X Features 280
X Server Options for Linux 280
Methods of Configuring X 282
X Configuration Options 285
Obtaining X Display Information 293
Configuring X Fonts 295
Font Technologies and Formats 296
Configuring X Core Fonts 296
Configuring a Font Server 299
Configuring Xft Fonts 300
Managing GUI Logins 301
The X GUI Login System 301
Running an XDMCP Server 302
Configuring an XDMCP Server 304
Using X for Remote Access 306
X Client-Server Principles 306
Using Remote X Clients 307
X Accessibility 310
Keyboard and Mouse Accessibility Issues 310
Screen Display Settings 312
Using Additional Assistive Technologies 314
Configuring Localization and Internationalization 315
Setting Your Time Zone 315
Querying and Setting Your Locale 318
Configuring Printing 321
Conceptualizing the Linux Printing Architecture 321
Understanding PostScript and Ghostscript 322
Running a Printing System 324
Configuring CUPS 324
Monitoring and Controlling the Print Queue 330
Summary 335
Exam Essentials 335
Review Questions 337

ftoc.indd 03/26/2015 Page xv

 xvi Contents

Chapter 7 Administering the System 343

Managing Users and Groups 344
Understanding Users and Groups 344
Configuring User Accounts 348
Configuring Groups 359
Viewing Individual Account Records 362
Tuning User and System Environments 364
Using Log and Journal Files 365
Understanding syslogd 366
Setting Logging Options 366
Manually Logging Data 369
Rotating Log Files 370
Reviewing Log File Contents 373
Exploring the systemd Journal System 374
Maintaining the System Time 379
Understanding Linux Time Concepts 379
Manually Setting the Time 380
Using Network Time Protocol 381
Running Jobs in the Future 389
Understanding the Role of cron 389
Creating System cron Jobs 390
Creating User cron Jobs 391
Using anacron 394
Using at 396
Summary 399
Exam Essentials 399
Review Questions 401

Chapter 8 Configuring Basic Networking 407

Understanding TCP/IP Networking 408
Knowing the Basic Functions of Network Hardware 408
Investigating Types of Network Hardware 409
Understanding Network Packets 411
Understanding Network Protocol Stacks 411
Knowing TCP/IP Protocol Types 413
Understanding Network Addressing 414
Using Network Addresses 414
Resolving Hostnames 421
Network Ports 424
Configuring Linux for a Local Network 427
Network Hardware Configuration 428
Configuring with DHCP 428

ftoc.indd 03/26/2015 Page xvi

 Contents xvii

Configuring with a Static IP Address 429

Configuring Routing 432
Using GUI Configuration Tools 434
Using the ifup and ifdown Commands 434
Configuring Hostnames 435
Diagnosing Network Connections 438
Testing Basic Connectivity 438
Tracing a Route 439
Checking Network Status 441
Examining Raw Network Traffic 441
Using Additional Tools 443
Summary 445
Exam Essentials 445
Review Questions 447

Chapter 9 Writing Scripts, Configuring Email, and

Using Databases 453
Managing the Shell Environment 454
Reviewing Environment Variables 454
Understanding Common Environment Variables 455
Using Aliases 459
Modifying Shell Configuration Files 460
Writing Scripts 462
Beginning a Shell Script 463
Using Commands in Shell Scripts 463
Running a Shell Script 465
Using Variables in Shell Scripts 470
Using Conditional Expressions 478
Using Loops 485
Using Lists 493
Using Functions 495
Managing Email 497
Understanding Email 498
Choosing Email Software 498
Working with Email 500
Managing Data with SQL 504
Picking a SQL Package 505
Understanding SQL Basics 505
Using MySQL 506
Summary 515
Exam Essentials 515
Review Questions 517

ftoc.indd 03/26/2015 Page xvii

 xviii Contents

Chapter 10 Securing Your System 523

Administering Network Security 524
Using Super Server Restrictions 525
Disabling Unused Servers 530
Administering Local Security 540
Securing Passwords 540
Limiting root Access 544
Auditing User Access 547
Setting Login, Process, and Memory Limits 551
Locating SUID/SGID Files 553
Configuring SSH 555
Understanding SSH Basics 555
Setting SSH Options 556
Preventing SSH Security Problems 563
Using GPG 563
Generating Keys 564
Importing Keys 565
Revoking a Key 566
Encrypting and Decrypting Data 566
Signing Messages and Verifying Signatures 567
Summary 567
Exam Essentials 568
Review Questions 570

Appendix Answers 575

Chapter 1: Exploring Linux
Command-Line Tools 576
Chapter 2: Managing Software 579
Chapter 3: Configuring Hardware 583
Chapter 4: Managing Files 586
Chapter 5: Booting Linux and
Editing Files 590
Chapter 6: Configuring the X Window System,
Localization, and Printing 593
Chapter 7: Administering the System 597
Chapter 8: Configuring Basic Networking 601
Chapter 9: Writing Scripts, Configuring Email,
and Using Databases 605
Chapter 10: Securing Your System 609
Index 613

ftoc.indd 03/26/2015 Page xviii

Introduction
Why should you learn about Linux? It’s a fast-growing operating system, and it is
inexpensive and flexible. Linux is also a major player in the small and mid-size server
field, and it’s an increasingly viable platform for workstation and desktop use as well. By
understanding Linux, you’ll increase your standing in the job market. Even if you already
know Windows or Mac OS and your employer uses these systems exclusively, understand-
ing Linux will give you an edge when you’re looking for a new job or you’re looking for a
promotion. For instance, this knowledge will help you make an informed decision about if
and when you should deploy Linux.
The Linux Professional Institute (LPI) has developed its LPIC-1 certification as an intro-
ductory certification for people who want to enter careers involving Linux. The exam is
meant to certify that an individual has the skills necessary to install, operate, and trouble-
shoot a Linux system and is familiar with Linux-specific concepts and basic hardware.
The purpose of this book is to help you pass the LPIC-1 exams (101-400 and 102-400),
updated in 2015. Because these exams cover basic Linux installation, configuration, main-
tenance, applications, networking, and security, those are the topics that are emphasized
in this book. You’ll learn enough to get a Linux system up and running and to configure it
for many common tasks. Even after you’ve taken and passed the LPIC-1 exams, this book
should remain a useful reference.

What Is Linux?
Linux is a clone of the Unix operating system (OS) that has been popular in academia and many
business environments for years. Formerly used exclusively on large mainframes, Unix and
Linux can now run on small computers, which are actually far more powerful than the main-
frames of just a few years ago. Because of its mainframe heritage, Unix (and hence also Linux)
scales well to perform today’s demanding scientific, engineering, and network server tasks.
Linux consists of a kernel, which is the core control software, and many libraries and
utilities that rely on the kernel to provide features with which users interact. The OS is
available in many different distributions, which are collections of a specific kernel with
specific support programs.

Why Become Linux Certified?

Several good reasons to get your Linux certification exist. There are four major benefits:
Relevance The exams were designed with the needs of Linux professionals in mind.
Surveys of Linux administrators were performed to learn what they actually needed to
know to do their jobs.
Quality The exams have been extensively tested and validated using psychometric stan-
dards. The result is an ability to discriminate between competent administrators and those
who must still learn more material.

flast.indd 03/26/2015 Page xix

 xx Introduction

Neutrality LPI is an organization that doesn’t itself market any Linux distribution.
This fact removes the motivation to create an exam that’s designed as a way to market a
particular distribution.
Support Major players in the Linux world support the exams.

How to Become Certified

The certification is available to anyone who passes the two required exams: 101-400 and
102-400 (often referred to as simply 101 and 102). You don’t have to work for a particular
company. It’s not a secret society.
Pearson VUE administers the exam. The exam can be taken at any Pearson VUE testing
center. If you pass, you will get a certificate in the mail saying that you have passed.

To register for the exam with Pearson VUE, call (877) 619-2096 or register
online at www.vue.com. However you do it, you’ll be asked for your name,
mailing address, phone number, employer, when and where you want to
take the test (that is, which testing center), and your credit card number
(arrangement for payment must be made at the time of registration).

Who Should Buy This Book

Anybody who wants to pass the certification exams may benefit from this book. This book
covers the material that someone new to Linux will need to learn the OS from the begin-
ning, and it continues to provide the knowledge you need up to a proficiency level sufficient
to pass the two exams. You can pick up this book and learn from it even if you’ve never
used Linux before, although you’ll fi nd it an easier read if you’ve at least casually used
Linux for a few days. If you’re already familiar with Linux, this book can serve as a review
and as a refresher course for information with which you might not be completely familiar.
In either case, reading this book will help you pass the exams.
This book is written with the assumption that you know at least a little bit about Linux
(what it is and possibly a few Linux commands). We also assume that you know some basics
about computers in general, such as how to use a keyboard, how to insert a disc into an optical
drive, and so on. Chances are that you have used computers in a substantial way in the past—
perhaps even Linux, as an ordinary user, or maybe you have used Windows or Mac OS. We do
not assume that you have extensive knowledge of Linux system administration, but if you’ve
done some system administration, you can still use this book to fill in gaps in your knowledge.

As a practical matter, you’ll need a Linux system with which to practice

and learn in a hands-on way. Neither the exams nor this book covers actu-
ally installing Linux on a computer from scratch, although some of the
prerequisites (such as disk partitioning) are covered. You may need to refer
to your distribution’s documentation to learn how to accomplish this task.
Alternatively, several vendors sell computers with Linux preinstalled.

flast.indd 03/26/2015 Page xx

 Introduction xxi

How This Book Is Organized

This book consists of 10 chapters plus supplementary information: an online glossary,
this introduction, and the assessment test after the introduction. The chapters are orga-
nized as follows:
■ Chapter 1, “Exploring Linux Command-Line Tools,” covers the basic tools that you
need to interact with Linux. These include shells, redirection, pipes, text filters, and
regular expressions.
■ Chapter 2, “Managing Software,” describes the programs that you’ll use to manage
software. Much of this task is centered around the RPM and Debian package manage-
ment systems. The chapter also covers handling shared libraries and managing
processes (that is, running programs).
■ Chapter 3, “Configuring Hardware,” focuses on Linux’s interactions with the hard-
ware on which it runs. Specific hardware and procedures for using it include the BIOS,
expansion cards, USB devices, hard disks, and the partitions and filesystems used on
hard disks.
■ Chapter 4, “Managing Files,” covers the tools used to manage files. This includes com-
mands to manage files, ownership, and permissions as well as Linux’s standard direc-
tory tree and tools for archiving files.
■ Chapter 5, “Booting Linux and Editing Files,” explains how Linux boots up and how
you can edit files in Linux. Specific topics include the GRUB Legacy and GRUB 2 boot
loaders, boot diagnostics, runlevels, and the vi editor.
■ Chapter 6, “Configuring the X Window System, Localization, and Printing,” describes
the Linux GUI and printing subsystems. Topics include X configuration, managing
GUI logins, configuring location-specific features, enabling accessibility features, and
setting up Linux to use a printer.
■ Chapter 7, “Administering the System,” describes miscellaneous administrative tasks.
These include user and group management, tuning user environments, managing log
files, setting the clock, and running jobs in the future.
■ Chapter 8, “Configuring Basic Networking,” focuses on basic network configuration.
Topics include TCP/IP basics, setting up Linux on a TCP/IP network, and network
diagnostics.
■ Chapter 9, “Writing Scripts, Configuring Email, and Using Databases,” covers these
miscellaneous topics. Scripts are small programs that administrators often use to help
automate common tasks. Email, of course, is an important topic for any computer user,
particularly on Linux, which often runs an email server for local or remote use. Linux
can run databases that help you store and retrieve information, and these tools can be
very important ones on many Linux systems.
■ Chapter 10, “Securing Your System,” covers security. Specific subjects include network
security, local security, and the use of encryption to improve security.
Chapters 1 through 5 cover the 101-400 exam, while Chapters 6 through 10 cover the
102-400 exam. These make up Part I and Part II of the book, respectively.

flast.indd 03/26/2015 Page xxi

 xxii Introduction

What’s Included in the Book

We’ve included several study learning tools throughout the book:
Assessment Test At the end of this introduction is an assessment test that you can use to
check your readiness for the exam. Take this test before you start reading the book; it will
help you determine the areas you might need to brush up on. The answers to the assessment
test questions appear on a separate page after the last question of the test. Each answer
includes an explanation and a note telling you the chapter in which the material appears.
Objective Map and Opening List of Objectives An objective map shows you where each of
the exam objectives is covered in this book. In addition, each chapter opens with a list of the
exam objectives it covers. Use these to see exactly where each of the exam topics is covered.
Exam Essentials Each chapter, just after the summary, includes a number of exam essen-
tials. These are the key topics you should take from the chapter in terms of areas to focus
on when preparing for the exam.
Chapter Review Questions To test your knowledge as you progress through the book,
there are review questions at the end of each chapter. As you fi nish each chapter, answer the
review questions and then check your answers—the correct answers and explanations are
in Appendix A. You can go back to reread the section that deals with each question you got
wrong to ensure that you answer correctly the next time you’re tested on the material.

The review questions, assessment test, and other testing elements included in
this book are not derived from the actual exam questions, so don’t memorize
the answers to these questions and assume that doing so will enable you to
pass the exam. You should learn the underlying topic, as described in the text
of the book. This will help you answer the questions provided with this book
and pass the exam. Learning the underlying topic is also the approach that
will serve you best in the workplace—the ultimate goal of a certification.

To get the most out of this book, you should read each chapter from start to fi nish and
then check your memory and understanding with the end-of-chapter elements. Even if
you’re already familiar with a topic, you should skim the chapter; Linux is complex enough
that there are often multiple ways to accomplish a task, so you may learn something even if
you’re already competent in an area.

Interactive Online Learning Environment

and Test Bank
The interactive online learning environment that accompanies the book provides a test
bank with study tools to help you prepare for the certification exam—and increase your
chances of passing it the fi rst time! The test bank includes the following:

flast.indd 03/26/2015 Page xxii

 Introduction xxiii

Sample Tests All of the questions in this book are provided, including the Assessment
Test, which you’ll fi nd at the end of this introduction, and the Chapter Tests that include
the Review Questions at the end of each chapter. In addition, there are two Practice Exams.
Use these questions to test your knowledge of the study guide material. The online test
bank runs on multiple devices.
Flashcards Questions are provided in digital flashcard format (a question followed by a
single correct answer). You can use the flashcards to reinforce your learning and provide
last-minute test prep before the exam.
Other Study Tools A glossary of key terms from this book and their defi nitions are
available as a fully searchable PDF.

Go to http://sybextestbanks.wiley.com to register and gain access to

this interactive online learning environment and test bank with study tools.

Conventions Used in This Book

This book uses certain typographic styles in order to help you quickly identify important
information and to avoid confusion over the meaning of words such as onscreen prompts.
In particular, look for the following styles:
■ Italicized text indicates key terms that are described at length for the first time in a
chapter. (Italics are also used for emphasis.)
■ A monospaced font indicates the contents of configuration files, messages displayed
at a text-mode Linux shell prompt, filenames, text-mode command names, and
Internet URLs.
■ Italicized monospaced text indicates a variable—information that differs from one
system or command run to another, such as the name of a client computer or a process
ID number.
■ Bold monospaced text is information that you’re to type into the computer, usu-
ally at a Linux shell prompt. This text can also be italicized to indicate that you should
substitute an appropriate value for your system. (When isolated on their own lines,
commands are preceded by non-bold monospaced $ or # command prompts, denoting
regular user or system administrator use, respectively.)
In addition to these text conventions, which can apply to individual words or entire
paragraphs, a few conventions highlight segments of text:

A note indicates information that’s useful or interesting but that’s some-

what peripheral to the main text. A note might be relevant to a small
number of networks, for instance, or it may refer to an outdated feature.

flast.indd 03/26/2015 Page xxiii

Discovering Diverse Content Through
Random Scribd Documents
powder,—and a mighty roar reverberated down the valley and up the
sides of the hills to their very crests.
After saluting the citizens whom we especially wished to favor or
annoy, we went to the public square and fired the anvils until day
began to break, and then we turned home and crawled into our
beds to catch a little sleep before our services should be needed
later on.
It was generally eight or nine o’clock before we got our hurried
breakfast and met again at the public square. We visited the shops
and stores, and went up to the little knots of men and women to
hear what they had to say about the cannonading, and intimated
very broadly that we could tell who did it if we only would. Then we
lighted our bits of punk and began the fusillade of fire-crackers that
was next in order on our programme. At this time the cannon fire-
cracker, with all its terrors, had not come; and though here and
there some boy had a small cannon or a pistol, the noise was
confined almost entirely to fire-crackers. Most of us had to be very
saving of them; they were expensive in those days, and our funds
were low especially after the heavy firing in the early hours. We
always felt that it was not fair that we should be obliged to get up
before daylight in the morning and do the shooting, and buy the
powder too, and once or twice we carried around a subscription
paper to the business-men to raise funds for the powder; but this
met with poor success. Farmington never was a very public-spirited
place.
There were always plenty of boys who could shoot a fire-cracker and
hold it in their hands until it went off, and now and then one who
could hold it in his teeth with his eyes shut tight. But this last exploit
was considered dangerous, and generally was done only on
condition that we gave a certain number of fire-crackers to the boy
who took the risk. While we were all together, to hear someone else
shoot fire-crackers was a very different thing from shooting them
yourself. Although you did nothing but touch the string to a piece of
lighted punk and throw the fire-cracker in the air, it sounded better
when you threw it yourself than when some other boy threw it in
your place.
Often on the Fourth of July we had a picnic in the afternoon, and
sometimes a ball-game too. This, of course, was in case it did not
rain; rain always stopped everything, and it seemed as if it always
did rain on the Fourth. Some people said this was because so much
powder was exploded; but it could not be so, because it generally
rained on picnic days whether it was the Fourth or not. And then on
Saturday afternoons, at the time of our best base-ball matches, it
often rained; and this even after we had gone to the neighboring
town, or their boys had come to visit us. In fact, rain was one of the
crosses of our young lives. There was never any way of knowing
whether it would come or not; but there it was, always hanging
above our heads like the famous sword of Damascus—or some such
man—that our teachers told us was suspended by a hair. Of course,
when we complained and were rebellious about the rain our parents
told us that if it did not rain we should have no wheat or corn, and
everything would dry up, and all of us would starve; but these were
only excuses,—for why could it not rain on Sunday, when there was
nothing to do and no one to be harmed? Besides, there were six
other days in the week besides Saturday, and only one holiday in the
whole long summer; and how could there be any use of making it
rain on those days?
Another thing that caused us a good deal of annoyance was that
Fourth of July and Christmas sometimes came on Sunday. Of course,
either a Saturday or a Monday was usually chosen in its place; but
this was not very satisfactory, as some of the people would celebrate
on Saturday, and some on Monday,—and, besides, we could not
have a “truly Fourth” on any day except the Fourth.
When we had a “celebration,” it was generally in the afternoon, and
was held in a grove beside the river below the town. Everyone went
to the celebration, not only in Farmington but in all the country
round. On that day the brass-band came out in its great four-horse
wagon, and the members were dressed in uniform covered with gold
braid. Some of them played on horns almost as long and as big as
themselves; and I thought that if I could only be a member of the
band and have one of those big horns, I should feel very proud and
happy. There was always someone there to sell lemonade, which
looked very nice to us boys, although we hardly ever had a chance
to get any after the powder and the fire-crackers had been bought.
There were swings, and things like that; but they were not much
fun, for there were so many boys to use them, and, besides, the
girls had to have the swings most of the time, and all we could do
was to swing them.
Then we had dinner out of a basket. We always thought that this
would be a great deal of fun; but it never was. The main thing that
everyone carried to the dinner was cold chicken, and I hated
chicken; and even if I managed to get something else, it had been
smeared and covered over with chicken gravy, and wasn’t fit to eat,
—and then, too, the butter was melted and ran over everything, and
was more like grease than butter. Besides, there were bugs and flies
and mosquitoes getting into everything, to say nothing of the worms
and caterpillars that dropped down off the trees or crawled up on
the tablecloth. I never could see any fun in a basket picnic, even on
the Fourth of July.
After we were through with our dinners, Squire Allen came on the
platform with the speaker of the day. The first thing Squire Allen did
was to put on his gold spectacles; then he took a drink of water
from a pitcher that stood on a stand on the platform; then he came
to the front of the platform and said: “Friends and fellow-citizens:
The exercises will begin by reading the Declaration of
Independence.” Then he began to read, and it seemed as if he never
would finish. Of course I knew nothing about the Declaration of
Independence, and neither did the other boys. We thought it was
something Squire Allen wrote, because he always read it, and we did
not think anyone else could read the Declaration of Independence.
We all came up quite close and kept still when he began to read, but
we never stood still until he got through. And we never had the least
idea what it was about. All I remember is the beginning, “When in
the Course of Human Events”; and from what I have learned since I
think this is all that anyone knows about the Declaration of
Independence,—or, for that matter, all that anyone cares.
When Squire Allen finally got through the reading, he introduced the
speaker of the day. This was always some lawyer who came from
Warner, the county-seat, twenty miles away. I had seen the lawyer’s
horse and buggy at the hotel in the morning, and I thought how nice
they were, and how much money a lawyer must make, and what a
great man he was, and how I should like to be a lawyer; and I
wondered what one had to study to be a lawyer, and how long it
took, and how much brains, and a lot of things of this sort. The
lawyer never seemed to be a bit afraid to stand up there on the
platform before the audience, and I remember that he wore nice
clothes,—a good deal nicer than those of the farmers and other
people who came to hear him talk,—and his boots looked shiny, as if
they had just been greased. He talked very loud, and seemed to be
mad about something, especially when he spoke of the war and the
“Bridish,” and he waved his hands and arms a great deal, and made
quite a fuss about it all. I know that he said quite a lot about the
Declaration of Independence, and a lot about fighting, and how
glorious it was; and told us all about Europe and Asia and Africa, and
how poor and downtrodden and ignorant all those people were, and
how free we were, all on account of the Declaration of
Independence, and the flag, and the G. A. R., and because our
people were such good fighters. He told us that whatever happened,
we must stand by the Declaration of Independence and the flag, and
be ready to fight and to die if we ever had a chance to fight and die.
And the old farmers clapped their hands and nodded their heads,
and said he was a mighty smart man, and a great man, and
thoroughly patriotic, and as long as we had such men the country
was safe; and we boys went away feeling as if we wanted to fight,
and wondering why the people in other countries ever let the rulers
run over them the way they did, and feeling sorry they were so poor
and weak and cowardly, and hoping we could get into a war with the
“Bridish” and help to free her poor ignorant serfs, and wondering if
we were old enough to be taken if we did have a war, and wishing if
we did that the lawyer could be the General, or the President, or
anything else, for he certainly was a great man and could talk louder
than anyone we had ever heard. I usually noticed that the lawyer
was running for some office in the fall, and everyone said that he
was just the man that we ought to have,—he was such a great
patriot.
After the speech was over we went home to supper; and after dark,
to the square to see the fireworks. This was a fitting close to a great
day. We always noted every stage of preparation. We knew just how
they put up the platform, and how they fixed the trough for the sky-
rockets. We knew who touched them off, who held the Roman
candles, and who started the pin-wheels, and just what they all cost.
We sat in wonder and delight while the pin-wheels and Roman
candles were going through their performance; but when the sky-
rockets were touched off, we watched them until they exploded in
the air, and then raced off in the darkness to find the sticks.
After the fireworks we slowly went home. Although it had been a
long day since we began shooting the anvils in the gray morning, it
was hard to see the Fourth actually over. Take it all together, we
agreed that the Fourth of July was the best day of all the year.
 CHAPTER XVIII
BASE-BALL

M y greatest regret at growing old was the fact that I must give
up playing ball. Even while I could still play, I began to think
how soon it would be when I could no longer take an active part,
but must simply stand and watch the game. Somehow base-ball has
always seemed to me the only thing in life that came up to my
hopes and expectations. And thus it is by Nature’s fatal equation that
the sensation that gave me the greatest pleasure has caused me the
most regret. So, after all, in the final balance base-ball only averages
with the rest. I know that, as a youth, I thought that nothing felt so
good as a toothache—after it had stopped. Perhaps the world is so
arranged that joys and sorrows balance one another, and the one
who has the happiest life feels so much regret in giving it up that he
comes out with the same net result as the one who feels pleasure in
escaping a world of sorrow and despair.
But I meant to tell about my base-ball days. These began so long
ago that I do not know the time, but I am sure they commenced as
the game began, for base-ball was evolved from our boyish game of
“two-old-cat and three-old-cat,” which we played while very young.
Since I batted my last ball I have often sat on the bleachers of our
great towns to see the game. But base-ball now is not the base-ball
of my young days. Of course I would not admit that there are better
players now than then, but the game has been brought to such a
scientific state that one might as well stand and watch the thumping
of some great machine as a modern game of ball. There used to be
room for individual merit, for skill, for blunders and mistakes, for
chance and luck, and all that goes to make up a game.
The hired players of to-day are no more players than mercenary
troops are patriots. They are bought and sold on the open market,
and have no pride of home and no town reputation to maintain.
Neither I nor any of my companions could any more have played a
game of base-ball with Hartford against Farmington than we could
have joined a foreign army and fought against the United States.
And we would have scorned to hire mercenaries from any other
town. We were not only playing ball, but we were fighting for the
glory and honor of Farmington. Neither had the game sunk to any
such ignoble state that we were paid for our services. We played
ball; we did not work at the trade of amusing people,—we had
something else to do. There was school in the spring and autumn
months; there were the grist-mill, the blacksmith-shop, and the
farms in the summer-time, and only Saturday afternoons were
reserved for ball, excepting such practice as we might get in the long
summer twilight hours. We literally left our callings on the day we
played ball,—left them as Cincinnatus left his plough in the furrow
and rode off to war in obedience to his country’s call.
At school we scarcely took time to eat our pie or cake and cheese,
but crammed them into our mouths, snatched the bat, and hurried
to the ball-grounds, swallowing our luncheon in great gulps as we
went along. At recess we played until the last tones of the little bell
had died away, and the teacher with exhausted patience had shut
the door and gone back to her desk; then we dropped the clubs and
hurried in. When school was out, we went home for our suppers and
to do our few small chores, and then rushed off to the public square
to get all the practice that we could.
Well do I remember one summer Saturday afternoon long years ago,
—how long, I cannot say, but I could find the date if I dared to look
it up. The almanacs, when we got the new ones at the store about
Christmas, had told us that there would be an almost total eclipse of
the sun that year. The people far and near looked for the eventful
day. As I recall, some wise astronomers hired a special ship and
sailed down to the equator to make observations which they could
not make at home. We children smoked little bits of glass over a
lighted candle, that we might look through the blackened glass
straight at the dazzling sun.
When the day came round, there it was a Saturday afternoon! Of
course we met as usual on the public square; we chose sides and
began the game. We saw the moon slowly and surely throwing its
black shadow across the sun; but we barely paused to glance up at
the wonders that the heavens were revealing to our view. We did
not stop the game until it grew so dark that we could hardly see the
ball, and then sadly and reluctantly we gathered at the home-base,
feeling that the very heavens had conspired to cheat us of our
game. Impatiently we waited until the moon began to drift so far
past the sun that his friendly rays could reveal the ball again; and
then we quickly took our places, and the game went on. It could not
have been too dark to play for more than twenty or thirty minutes at
the most, yet this marvel sank into insignificance in comparison with
the time we lost from our game of ball.
Our usual meeting-place was on the public square. This was not an
ideal spot, but it was the best we had. The home-base was so near
the hotel that the windows were in constant danger, and the dry-
goods store was not far beyond the second base. Squire Allen’s
house and a grove of trees were only a little way back of the third
base, and many a precious moment was lost in hunting for the ball
in the grass and weeds in his big yard. The flag-pole and the guide-
post, too, stood in the most inconvenient spots that could be found.
We managed to move the guide-post, but the mere suggestion of
changing the flag-pole was thought to be little less than treason; for
Farmington was a very patriotic town.
We played base-ball for many years before we dreamed of such
extravagance as special suits to play it in. We came to the field
exactly as we left our work, excepting that some of us would
manage to get a strap-belt to take the place of suspenders. We
usually played in our bare feet, for we could run faster in this way;
and when in the greatest hurry to make first-base, we generally
snatched off our caps and threw them on the ground.
We had a captain of the team, but his rule was very mild, and each
boy had about as much to say as any of the rest. This was especially
true when the game was on. Not only did each player have a chance
to direct and advise, in loud shouts and boisterous words, but the
spectators joined in all sorts of counsel, encouragement, and
admonition. When the ball was struck particularly hard, a shout went
up from the gathered multitude as if a fort had fallen after a hard-
fought siege. Then every person on the field would shout directions,
—how many bases should be run, and where the fielder ought to
throw the ball,—until the chief actors were so confused by the babel
of voices that they entirely lost their heads.
Finally we grew so proud of our progress in base-ball that after great
efforts we managed to get special suits. These were really wonders
in their way. True, they were nothing but a shirt and a pair of
trousers that came down just below the knee. But all the boys were
dressed alike, and the suits were made of blue with a red stripe
running down the side of the legs to help the artistic effect. After
this, we played ball better than before; and the fame of our club
crept up and down the stream and over beyond the hills on either
side. Then we began issuing challenges to other towns and
accepting theirs. This was still more exciting. By dint of scraping
together our little earnings, we would contrive to hire a two-horse
wagon and go out to meet the enemy in foreign lands. In turn, the
outside clubs would come to visit us. The local feeling spread from
the boys to their families and neighbors, and finally the girls got
interested in the game and came to see us play. This added greatly
to our zeal and pride. Often, in some contest of more than common
interest, the girls got up a supper for the club; and when the game
was done we ranged ourselves on the square and gave three cheers
for the other club, and then three cheers for the girls. This they
doubtless thought was pay enough.
A game of ball in those exciting times was not played in an hour or
two after the day’s work was done. It began promptly at one o’clock
and lasted until dark; sometimes the night closed in before it was
finished. The contest was not between the pitcher and the catcher
alone; we all played, and each player was as important as the rest.
Our games never ended with four or five sickly tallies on a side. A
club that could get no more runs than this had no right to play. Each
club got forty or fifty tallies, and sometimes more; and the batting
was one of the features of the game. Of course, we boys were not
so cool and deliberate and mechanical as players are to-day. We had
a vital interest in the game; and this, more than any other activity,
was our very life. The base-ball teams of these degenerate days are
simply playing for pay; and they play ball with the same precision
that a carpenter would nail shingles on a roof. Ball-playing with us
was quite another thing. The result of our games depended as much
upon our mistakes, and those of the other side, as upon any good
playing that we did. In a moment of intense excitement the batter
would knock the ball straight into the short-stop’s hands; it was an
easy matter to throw it to first-base and head off the runner, and
every boy on the field and every man in the crowd would shout to
the short-stop just what to do. He had time to spare; but for the
moment the game was his, and all eyes were turned on him. As a
rule, he eagerly snatched the ball and threw it clear over the first-
baseman’s head, so far away that the batter was safely landed on
third-base before the ball was again inside the ring. The fielder, too,
at the critical time, when all eyes were turned toward him, would get
fairly under the flying ball, and then let it roll through his hands
while the batter got his base. At any exciting part of the game the
fielding nine could be depended upon to make errors enough to let
the others win the game.
Then, as now, the umpire’s place was the hardest one to fill. It was
the rule that the umpire should be chosen by the visiting club; and
this carried him into a violently hostile camp. Of course, he, like
everyone else, could be relied on in critical times to decide in favor
of his friends; but such decisions called down on him the wrath of
the crowd, who sometimes almost drove him off the field.
It was a famous club that used to gather on the square. Whether in
batting, catching, or running bases, we always had a boy who was
the best in all the country round, and the base-ball club added not a
little to the prestige that we all thought belonged to Farmington.
One game I shall remember to the last moment of my life. The fight
had been long and hard, with our oldest and most hated rivals. The
day was almost done, and the shadows already warned us that night
was close at hand. We had come to the bat for the last half of the
last inning, and were within one of the score of the other side, with
two players out, and two on bases. Of course no more exciting
situation could exist; for this was the most critical portion of the
most important event of our young lives. It came my turn to take
the bat. After one or two feeble failures to hit the ball, I swung my
club just at the right time and place and with tremendous force. The
ball went flying over the roof of the store, and rolled down to the
river-bank on the other side. I had gone quite around the ring before
anyone could get near the ball. I can never forget the wild ovation in
which I ran around the ring, and the mad enthusiasm when the
home-plate was reached and the game was won. Whenever I read
of Cæsar’s return to Rome, I somehow think of this great hit and my
home-run which won the game.
All the evening, knots of men and boys gathered in the various
public places to discuss that unprecedented stroke. Next day at
church almost every eye was turned toward me as I walked
conspicuously and a little tardily up the aisle, and for days and
weeks my achievement was the chief topic of the town. Finally the
impression wore away, as all things do in this busy world where
everybody wants the stage at once, and then I found myself obliged
to call attention to my great feat. Whenever any remarkable play
was mentioned or great achievement referred to, I would say, “Yes,
but do you remember the time I knocked the ball over the store and
made that home-run?” Many years have passed since then, and here
I am again relating this exploit and writing it down to be printed in a
book.
Since that late summer afternoon when I ran so fast around the ring
amidst the plaudits of my town, I have had my rightful share of
triumphs and successes,—especially my rightful share in view of the
little Latin I knew when I started out in life. But among them all
fame and time and fortune have never conspired to make my heart
so swell with pride through any other triumph of my life as when I
knocked the ball over the dry-goods store and won the game.
 CHAPTER XIX
AUNT MARY

L ike everything else in my early life, my Aunt Mary is a memory

that is shrouded in mist. I have no idea when I first heard of her
or first saw her, but both events were while I was very young.
Neither can I now separate my earlier impressions of Aunt Mary
from those that must have been formed when I had grown into my
boyhood. It was some time after she was fixed in my mind before I
knew that there was an Uncle Ezra, and that he was Aunt Mary’s
husband. They had never had any children, and had always lived
alone. Whenever either one was spoken of, or any event or affair
connected with their lives was referred to, it was always Aunt Mary
instead of Uncle Ezra.
When I first remember them, they were old, or at least they seemed
old to me. They had a little farm not far from our home; and I
sometimes used to go down the dusty road to their house for eggs,
butter, and buttermilk. Aunt Mary was famed throughout the region
for the fine butter she made; and, either from taste or imagination, I
was so fond of it that I would eat no other kind.
Aunt Mary lived in a two-story white house with a wing on one side.
In front was a picket fence, whitewashed so often that it fairly
shone. Two large elm-trees stood just outside the fence, and a little
gate opened for the footpath from the road, and next to this were
bars that could be taken down to let teams drive in and out. In the
front yard were a number of evergreen trees trimmed in such a way
as to leave a large green ball on top. A door and several windows
were in the front of the house, and another door and more windows
on the side next the wing, which was mainly used for a woodshed
and summer kitchen. A little path ran from the gate to the side door,
and this was covered with large flat stones, which were kept so
clean that they were almost spotless. There was no path running to
the front door, although two stone steps led down to the ground.
The house was always white, as if freshly painted the day before.
Each of the windows had outside shutters (which we called blinds),
and these were painted blue. I well remember these shutters, for all
the others that I had ever seen were painted green, and I wondered
why everyone did not know that blue was much the most beautiful
color for blinds. The front door was never opened, and the front
shutters were always tightly closed. Whenever any of us went to the
house, we knew that we must go to the side door. If perchance a
stranger knocked at the front door, Aunt Mary would come around
the corner of the house and ask him to come to the kitchen.
Through all the country Aunt Mary was known for her “neatness.”
This had grown to a disease, the ruling passion of her life. It was
never easy to get any of the other boys to go with me to Aunt
Mary’s when I went for butter. None of them liked her, and they all
knew that she did not care for them. I remember that when I first
used to go there she would meet me at the side door and ask me to
stay out in the yard or go into the woodshed while she got the
butter or eggs. Then she would bring me a lump of sugar or a fried
cake (which she called a nut-cake) made from dough boiled in lard,
and which was very fine, especially when fresh and hot, and tell me
not to get any crumbs on the stone steps or on the woodshed floor.
Sometimes Uncle Ezra would come in from the barn or fields while I
was there, and he always seemed to be kind and friendly, and would
take me out to the pigpen while he poured the pails of swill into the
trough. I used to think it great sport to see the grunting hogs
rushing and shoving and tumbling over each other, and standing in
the trough to get all the swill they could. None of them ever seemed
to have enough, or to care whether the others had their share of
swill or not. I shall always feel that I learned a great deal about
human nature by helping Uncle Ezra feed his hogs.
Uncle Ezra was a man who said but little. I never found him in the
house; he was always out on the farm, or in the barn, or sometimes
in the woodshed. This seemed the nearest that he ever came to the
house. Uncle Ezra was a short man with a bald head and a round
face. He had white whiskers and a little fringe of white hair around
his head. He had no teeth, at least none that I can remember to
have seen. He was slightly stooping, and was lame from
rheumatism; and he wore a round black hat, and a brown coat
buttoned tightly around his waist, and trousers made of some sort of
brown drilling, and almost always rubber boots. In the woodshed he
kept another pair of trousers and clean boots, which he put on when
he went into the house to get his meals, or after it was too late to
stay outside. I never heard him joke or laugh, or say anything angry
or unkind. He always spoke of Aunt Mary as “the old woman,” and
showed no feeling or emotion of any sort in connection with her.
Whenever he was asked about any kind of business, he directed
inquirers to “the old woman.”
Aunt Mary was tall and thin and very straight. Her hair was white,
and done up in a knot on the back of her head. It seems as if she
wore a sort of striped calico dress, and an apron over this. No doubt
she sometimes wore other clothes; but she has made her impression
on my memory in this way. Poor thing! like all the rest of the mortals
who ever lived and died, she doubtless tried to make the best
impression she could, and at some fateful time this image was cast
upon my mind, and there it stayed forever, and gets printed in a
book,—the only one that ever held her name. The real person may
have been very different indeed, and the fault have been not at all
with her, but with the poor substance on which the shadow fell.
I can remember Aunt Mary only in one particular way; and when her
name is called, and she steps out from the dim, almost forgotten
past, I see the tall, spare old woman, with two or three long teeth
and a wisp of snow-white hair, and a dress with stripes running up
and down, making her seem even taller and thinner than she really
was. I see her, through the side door which opened from the room
which was kitchen, dining-room, and living-room combined. I am a
barefooted child standing on the stone steps outside, and looking in
through the open door. I am nibbling slowly and prudently at a
delicious nut-cake, and wondering if there are any more where that
one came from, and if she will bring me another when this is eaten
up, and thinking that if I really knew she would I need not make this
one last so long. Almost opposite the door stands the cooking-stove.
I can see it now, with its two short legs in front, and its two tall ones
in the back. There is the sliding hearth, used to regulate the
draught. Back of this, and above the hearth, is the little square iron
box where wood is put in; over this are the holes for pots and
kettles; and farther back, and above all, is the tall oven almost on a
level with Aunt Mary’s shoulders. On the oven is a pan of dish-water,
and she is wringing out a rag and for the thousandth time wiping the
spotless oven. When this is done, she goes downstairs to the cellar,
and gets the butter in the little tin pail, then goes to the cupboard
and finds another nut-cake and brings them to the door. Then she
looks carefully down to the stone steps to see if I have left any
crumbs, and puts the pail and the nut-cake into my waiting hands.
Before I go, she asks me about my father and mother, my brothers
and sisters; whether the washing has been done this week; whether
my sister is going to take music-lessons this fall; whether there is
water enough in the dam to run the mill; and then she bids me
hurry home lest the butter should melt on the way.
Aunt Mary did not live in the kitchen because there was no other
room. After a time I learned that there were a parlor and a spare
bedroom on the lower floor, and that the front door opened into a
hall that led to the parlor and then on to the kitchen at the back. As
I grew older and gained her confidence, she told me that if I would
go out in the tall grass by the pump and wipe my feet carefully she
would let me come into the house. As I came up to the door, she
looked at me suspiciously, to see that there was no dirt on my feet
or clothes, and set me down in a straight wooden chair; then she
kept on with her dish-rag, and plied me with questions as to the
health of the various members of the family, and how they were
progressing with their work. She never left the high oven, with its
everlasting dish-pan, except to wipe imaginary dirt from some piece
of furniture, and then go back to wring the cloth from the water
once again. Although she almost always gave me a nut-cake or a
piece of pie, she never invited me to dinner, and always asked me to
go outside to eat.
By slow degrees she told me about her parlor and spare bedroom.
And one day, after watching me wipe my feet with special care, she
took me into the hall, cautiously opened the parlor door, and let me
into the forbidden room. As we went into the hall and the parlor, she
took pains that no flies should follow through the doors; and then,
when these were closed and we were safely inside the cool dark
room, she slowly and cautiously pushed back the curtains, raised the
window just enough to put through her long thin hand and turn the
little blue slats of the window-blinds to let in some timid rays of light.
Then she pointed out the various pieces of furniture in the parlor,
with all the pride of possession and detail of description of a lackey
who shows wandering Americans the belongings of an old English
castle or country seat. On the floor was a real Brussels carpet, with
great red and black flower figures. A set of cane-seated chairs—six
in all—were placed by twos against the different sides of the walls;
while a large rocking-chair was near the spare bedroom, and in the
corner a walnut whatnot on which were arranged shells and stones.
Near the centre was a real marble-top table, with a great Bible and a
red plush album in the middle. A square box sheet-iron stove, with
black glistening pipe, stood on one side of the room on a round zinc
base. On the walls were many pictures hung with big red cord on
large glass-headed nails. There was a crayon portrait of her father, a
once famous preacher, and also one of her mother; two or three
yarn mottoes in black walnut frames hung above the doors, and
some chromos, which she said had come with tea, completed the
adornment of the walls. The elegance of all I saw made the deepest
impression on my childish mind. Not a fly was in sight, and
everything was without blemish or spot. I could not refrain from
expressing my admiration and surprise, and my regret that everyone
in town could not see this beautiful parlor. Then Aunt Mary confided
to me that sometime she was going to have a party and invite all her
friends. Then she began looking doubtfully at the streaks of sunlight
in the room, and casting her eyes around the ceiling and the walls to
see if perchance a stray fly might have come through the door; and
then she went to the window and pushed back the long stiff lace
curtains, and closed the blinds, leaving us once more in the dark. Of
course I never could forget that parlor, though Aunt Mary did not
take me there again.
Sometime afterwards, when I went for butter, I missed her at the
high oven where she always stood with the dish-cloth in her hand.
When I knocked, Uncle Ezra let me in. The big rocker had been
drawn out into the kitchen, near the stove; and Aunt Mary, looking
very white, sat in the chair propped up with pillows. I asked her if
she was sick, and she answered no, but that she had been “feeling
poorly” for some time past.
Of course I must have heard all about her illness at the time, but
this has faded from my mind. I remember only that Uncle Ezra came
to the house one day, looking very sad, and when he spoke he
simply said, “The old woman is dead.”
We children were all taken to the funeral. I shall always remember
this event, for when we went through the little gate there stood the
front door wide open, and we went in through the hall. Aunt Mary
was lying peacefully in her coffin in the front parlor. All the chairs in
the house had been brought in. Uncle Ezra sat with downcast head
near the spare bedroom door, a few neighbors and relatives were
seated in chairs around the room, and overhead, on the white
ceiling, the flies were buzzing and swarming as if in glee. The old
preacher was there, and I remember that in his sermon he referred
to Aunt Mary’s “neatness”; and here I know that Uncle Ezra groaned.
The day was rainy, and the neighbors had tracked mud on the nice
Brussels carpet. I looked around the room that Aunt Mary had
shown me with such pride and care. The muddy shoes of the
neighbors who had gathered about the coffin were making great
spots on the floor; the ceiling was growing blacker each minute with
the gathering flies. A great bluebottle, larger than the rest, was
buzzing on the glass above Aunt Mary’s head, trying to get inside the
lid. The windows were wide open, the curtains drawn aside, and the
blinds thrown back. Slowly I looked at the muddy floor, the
swarming flies, and the people gathered in Aunt Mary’s parlor; and
then I thought of the party that she had told me she was going to
give.
 CHAPTER XX
FERMAN HENRY

I t was when I began to go to the district school that I first heard

of Ferman Henry and his house. Just after we had waded through
the little stream that ran across the road, we came in full sight of the
place. The house stood about half-way up the hill that rose gently
from the little creek, and in front of it was a large oak-tree that
spread its branches out over the porch and almost to the road.
There were alder-bushes and burdocks along the fence,—or, rather,
where the fence was meant to be; for when I first knew the place
almost half of it was gone, and the remaining half was never in
repair. On one side of the house was a well, and in this was a
wooden pump. We used often to stop here to get a drink,—for there
never yet was a boy that could pass by water without stopping for a
drink. I remember that the pump always had to be primed, the
valves were so old and worn; and when we poured water in at the
top to start it, we had to work the handle very hard and fast, until
we got quite red in the face, before the water came, and then we
had to keep the handle going, for if we stopped a single moment the
water would run down again and leave the pump quite dry. I never
knew the time when the pump was in repair, and I do not know why
it was that we boys spent our breath in priming it and getting water
from the well. Perhaps it was because we had always heard that the
water was so very cold; and perhaps, too, because we liked to stop
a moment at the house,—for Ferman Henry and his family were the
“cleverest” people we knew. City people may not know that in
Farmington we used the word “clever” to mean kind or obliging,—as
when we spoke of a boy who would give us a part of his apple, or a
neighbor who would lend us his tools or do an errand for us when
he went to town.
I had always been told that Ferman Henry was a very shiftless man.
The neighbors knew that he would leave his buggy or his harness
out of doors under the apple-trees all summer long, exposed to sun
and rain; and that he did not like to work. Our people thought that
everyone should not only work, but also like to work simply for the
pleasure it brought. I recall that our copy-books and readers said
something of this sort when I went to school; and I know that the
people of Farmington believed, or thought they believed, that this
was true.
Ferman Henry was a carpenter, and a good one, everybody said,
although it was not easy to get him to undertake a job of work; and
if he began to build something, he would never finish it, but leave it
for someone else when it was partly done. He was a large, fat man,
and when I first knew him he wore a colored shirt, and trousers
made of blue drilling with wide suspenders passing over his great
shoulders; sometimes one of these was broken, and he often
fastened the end to his trousers with a nail that slipped through a
hole in the suspender and in the cloth, where a button was torn off.
He often wore cowhide boots, with his trousers legs sometimes
inside and sometimes outside; but generally he was barefoot when
we went past the house. I do not remember seeing him in winter-
time, perhaps because then he was not out of doors under the big
oak-tree. At any rate, my memory pictures him only as I have
described him.
When I first heard of Ferman Henry, I was told about his house. This
was begun before the war, and he was building it himself. He began
it so that he might be busy when he had no other work to do; and
then too his family was always getting larger, and he needed a new
home. He had worked occasionally upon the house for six or seven
years, and then he went out as a soldier with the three-months’
men. This absence hindered him seriously with his work; but before
he went away he managed to inclose enough of the house so that
he was able to move his family in, intending to finish the building as
soon as he got back.
The house was not a large affair,—an upright part with three rooms
above and three below, and a one-story kitchen in the shape of an L
running from the side. But it was really to be a good house, for
Ferman Henry was a good carpenter and was building it for a home.
After he got back from the war he would take little jobs of work from
the neighbors now and then, but still tinkered at his house. When
any work of special importance or profit came along, he refused it,
saying he must first “finish up” his house.
I can just remember the building as it appeared when I commenced
going to the district school. The clapboards had begun to brown with
age and wind and rain. The front room was done, excepting as to
paint. The back room below and the rooms upstairs were still
unfinished, and the L was little more than a skeleton waiting for its
bones to be covered up. The front doors and windows had been put
in, but the side and back windows were boarded up, and no shutters
had appeared. Back of the house was a little barn with a hen-house
on one side, and on the other was a pen full of grunting pigs,
drinking swill, growing fat, climbing into the trough, and running
their long snouts up through the pen to see what we children had
brought for them to eat.
I remember Ferman Henry from the time when I first began to go to
school. He was fat and “clever,” and always ready to talk with any of
the boys; and he would tell us to come into the yard and take the
dipper and prime the pump, whenever we stopped to get a drink. He
generally sat outside, under the big oak-tree, on the bench that
stood by the fence, where he could see all who passed his door.
Mrs. Henry was almost as large and fat as he, and she too was
“clever” to the boys. She wore a gray dress that was alike from head
to foot, and she never seemed to change it or get anything new.
They had a number of children, though I cannot tell now how many.
The boys were always falling out of the big oak-tree and breaking
their arms and carrying them in a sling. Two or three of those I
knew went to school, and I believe that some were large enough to
work out. The children who went to school never seemed to learn
anything from their books, but they were pleasant and “clever” with
their dinners or their marbles, or anything they had. We boys
managed to have more or less sport at their expense. The fact that
they were “clever” and cheerful never seemed to make the least
difference to us, unless to give the chance to make more fun of
them on that account. They never seemed to bring much dinner to
school, excepting bread-and-butter, and the bread was cut in great
thick slices, and the butter never seemed very nice. I know it was
none of Aunt Mary’s.
We boys could tell whether folks were rich or poor by the dinners
the children brought to school. If they had pie and cheese and cake
and frosted cookies, with now and then a nice ripe apple, we knew
that they were rich. We thought bread-and-butter the poorest kind
of a lunch; and sometimes we would stop on the way and open our
dinner-pails and throw it out.
We always knew the Henrys were poor. They had no farm, only a bit
of land along the road that ran a little way up the hill. They kept one
cow, and sometimes a horse, and two or three long-eared hounds
that used to hunt at night, their deep howls filling the valley with
doleful sounds.
Everyone said that Ferman Henry would work only when his money
was all gone, and that when he had enough ahead for a few weeks
he would give up his job. Sometimes he would work at the saw-mill
and get a few more boards for his house, or at the country store and
get nails or glass. After he came back from his three-months’ service
he was given a small pension, and for a few days after every
quarterly payment the family lived as well as the best, and
sometimes even bought a little more material for the house.
Year after year, as the family grew, he added to the building,
sometimes plastering a room, sometimes putting in a window or a
door; and he always said it would be finished soon.
But however poor they were, every time a circus came near the
town the whole family would go. The richest people in the village
had never been to as many circuses as the Henry boys; and even if
they knew nothing about the Romans or the Greeks, they could tell
all about the latest feats of skill and strength.
I often saw Ferman Henry tinkering around the mill, where he came
to do some odd job to get a sack of meal or flour. Once I well
remember that the water-wheel had broken down and we had to
stop the mill for several days; my father tried to get him to come
and fix the wheel, but he said he really had not the time,—that he
must finish up his house before cold weather set in.
As long as I went up and down the country road to school, I saw
Ferman Henry’s unfinished house. We boys used to speculate and
wonder as to when it would be done, and how it would look when it
finally should be finished. Our elders always told us that Ferman
Henry was too shiftless and lazy ever to complete his house, and
warned us by his example. When we left our task undone, or made
excuses for our idleness, they asked us if we wanted to grow up as
shiftless and lazy as Ferman Henry.
After I left the district school, and went the other way to the
Academy in the town, I still used to hear about Ferman Henry’s
house. The people at the stores would ask him how the work was
coming on; and he always answered that he would plaster his house
in the fall, or paint it in the spring, or finish it next year.
Before I left Farmington, the growing Henry family seemed to fill
every crack and crevice of the house. The kitchen had been inclosed,
but the porch was not yet done. The shutters were still wanting, the
plastering was not complete, and the outside was yet unpainted; but
he always said that he would go at it in a few days and get it done.
The last time I went to Farmington I drove past the house. Ferman
Henry sat upon the little bench under the big oak-tree. A pail of
water, with a dipper in it, stood by the pump. Mrs. Henry came out
to see if I had grown. A group of children were grubbing dirt in the
front yard. I drew up for a moment under the old tree, in the spot
where I had so often rested when a child. Ferman Henry seemed
little changed. The years had slipped over him like days or weeks,
and scarcely left a furrow on his face or whitened a single hair. At
my questioning surprise, he told me that the small children in the
yard belonged to his sons who lived upstairs. I looked at the house,
now falling to decay. The roof was badly patched, the weather-
boards were loose; the porch had not been finished, and the
building had never seen a coat of paint. I asked after his health and
prosperity. He told me that all the family were well, and that he was
getting on all right, and expected to finish his house that fall and
paint it in the spring. Out in the back yard I heard the hogs grunting
in the pen, as in the old-time days. I saw the laughing children
playing in the dirt. Mrs. Henry stood on the porch outside, and
Ferman sat on the old bench and smiled benignly on me as I drove
away. Then I fell to musing as to who was the wiser,—he or I.
 CHAPTER XXI
AUNT LOUISA

I f I had only known, when I opened the long-closed door of the

past, how fondly I should linger around the old familiar haunts, I
am sure that I never should have taken a look back. I intended only
to set down the few events that connect me with to-day. I did not
know that the child was alien to the man, and that the world in
which he lived was not the gray old world I know, but a bright green
spot where the sun shone and the birds sang all day long, and the
passing cloud left its shower only to make the landscape fairer and
brighter than before.
And here, once more, while all reluctantly I was about to turn the
bolt on that other world, comes a long-forgotten scene, and a host
of memories that clamor for a place in the pages of my book. I
cannot imagine why they come, or what relation they bear to the
important events of a living world. I had thought them as dead as
the tenants of the oldest and most forgotten grave that had long
since lost its headstone and was only a sunken spot in the old
churchyard.
But there is the picture on my mind,—so clear and strong that I can
hardly think the scientists tell the truth when they say that our
bodies are made entirely new every seven years. I am still a child at
the district school. The day is over, and I have come back down the
long white country road to the little home. My older brother and
sister have come from school with me. As we open the front gate we
have an instinct that there is “company in the house”; how we know,
I cannot tell,—but our childish vision has caught some sign that tells
us the family is not alone.
“Company” always brought mixed emotions to the boy. We never
were quite sure whether we liked it or not. We had more and better
things for supper than when we were alone; we had more things like
pie and cake and preserves and cheese, and we did not have to eat
so much of the things we liked less, such as bread-and-butter and
potatoes and mush and milk. Then, too, we were not so likely to get
scolded when strangers were around. I remember that I used to get
some of the boys to go home with me, when I had done something
wrong that I feared had been found out and would get me into
trouble; and we often took some of the children home with us when
we wanted to ask permission to do something or go somewhere,—
or, better still, we got them to ask for us. These things, of course,
were set down on the good side of having company.
But, on the other hand, we always had a clean tablecloth, and had
to be much more particular about the way we ate. We had to make
more use of our knives and forks and spoons, and less of our
fingers; and we always had to put on our boots, and wash our faces
and hands, and have our hair combed before we could go in to
supper, or even into the front room where the company was. And
when we spoke we had to say “Yes, sir,” and “No, sir,” and “Yes,
ma’am,” and “No, ma’am.” And we were not supposed to ask for
anything at the table a second time; and if anything was passed
around the second time and came to us, we were not to take it, but
pass it on as though we already had enough. And we were always to
say “Please” and “Thank you,” and such useless words,—just as
though we said them every day of our lives. Sometimes, of course,
we would forget, and ask for something without stopping to say
“Please,” and then our mother would look sharply at us, as if she
would do something to us when the company was gone, and then
she would ask us in the sweetest way if we had not forgotten
something, and we would have to begin all over and say “Please.”
Well, I remember that on this particular evening we all went round
to the back door, for we knew there was company in the house; and
when we went into the kitchen, our mother told us to be very still,
and to wash our feet and put on our stockings and shoes, for Aunt
Louisa was there. We asked how long she was going to stay; and
she said she was not quite sure, but probably at least until after
supper.
None of us liked Aunt Louisa. She was old, and had reddish false
hair, and was fat, and took snuff, and talked a great deal. She
belonged to the United Presbyterian church, and went every Sunday,
and sat in a pew clear up in front and a little on one side. Father and
mother did not like her, though they were nice to her when she
came to visit them, and sometimes they went to visit her. They said
she came to see what she could find to talk about and then would
go and tell it to the neighbors; and for this reason we must be very
careful when she was there.
Aunt Louisa was a “widow woman,” as she always said; her husband
had been killed by a horse many years before. She used often to tell
us all about how it happened, and it took her a long while to tell it,
and my father said that each time it took her longer than before.
She had a little house down a lane about three-quarters of a mile
away, and a few acres of ground which her husband had left her;
and she used to visit a great deal, calling on all the neighbors in
regular turn, a good deal like the school-teacher who boarded
around.
I remember that we had a nice clean tablecloth and a good supper
the night she came, and we all got along well at the table. We said
“Please” every time, and our mother never once had to look at us.
After supper we went into the parlor for a visit with Aunt Louisa.
This must have been only a little while before my mother’s death; for
I can see her plainer that night than at any other time. I wish I could
remember the tones of her voice; but their faintest echo has entirely
passed away, and I am not sure I should know them if they were
spoken in my ear. Her face, too, seems hidden by a mist, and is
faded and indistinct. Yet there she sits in her little sewing-chair,
rocking back and forth, with her needle in her hand and her basket
on her lap. Poor woman! she was busy every minute, and I suppose
she never would have had a chance to rest if she had not gone up to
the churchyard for her last long sleep when we were all so young.
Aunt Louisa has brought her work; she is knitting a long woollen
stocking, and the yarn is white. She puts on her glasses, unwinds
the stocking, pulls her long steel needles out of the ball of yarn and
throws it on the floor; then she begins to knit. The knitting seems to
help her to talk; for as she moves the needles back and forth, she
never for a moment stops talking or lacks a single word. Something
is said that reminds her of her husband, and she tells us of his
death: “It was nearly thirty years ago. He went out to the barn to
hitch up the colt. The colt was one that Truman had just got that
summer. He traded a pair of oxen for it, to a man over in Johnston,
but I disremember his name. It was a tall rangy colt, almost as black
as coal, but with a white stripe on its nose and white hind feet. He
was going out to draw in a load of hay from the bottom meadow. It
was a little late in the season, but the spring had been dry, and it
had rained almost all the summer, and he hadn’t had a chance to get
in his hay any sooner. He was doing his work that year alone, for his
hired man had left because his father died, and it was so late in the
season that he thought he would get on alone for the rest of the
year.” I do not yet know how her husband was really killed, although
she told us about it so many times, stopping often to sigh and take a
pinch of snuff, and wipe her nose and eyes with a large red and
black handkerchief. She said she had never felt like marrying since,
and that she had no consolation but her religion.
After she had finished the story of her husband’s death, she began
to tell us about the neighbors. She seemed especially interested in
some man who lived alone in the village and who had done
something terrible; I cannot now tell what it was, and in fact I hardly
understood then what she meant. But she said she had been talking
with Deacon Cole and with Squire Allen, and they thought it was a
burning shame that the men folks didn’t do something about it—that
Squire Allen had told her there was no law that could touch him, but
she thought if the men had any spirit they would go there some
night and rotten-egg him and ride him on a rail and drum him out of
town. I cannot remember that my mother said anything about the
matter, but she seemed to agree, and Aunt Louisa kept on talking
until it was almost nine o’clock; then she said she thought it was
about time for her to go home. My mother said a few words about
her staying overnight, but Aunt Louisa said she ought to go “so as to
be there early in the morning.” I know I thought at the time that my
mother did not urge her very much, and that if she had, Aunt Louisa
would most likely have stayed. Then my father told my older brother
and me to get a lantern and go home with her. Of course there was
nothing else to do. All along the road she kept talking of the terrible
things the man had done, and how she thought the men and boys of
the village ought to do something about it.
A few nights afterwards I heard that something was to happen in
the town. I cannot now remember how I heard, but at any rate I
went to bed, and took care not to go to sleep. About midnight my
brother and I got up and went to the public square. Twenty or thirty
men and boys had gathered at the flag-pole. I did not know all their
names, but I knew there were some of the best people in the place.
I am certain I saw Deacon Cole, and I know that we went over to
Squire Allen’s carriage-house and got a large plank which he had
told the crowd they might have. The men had sticks and stones and
eggs, and we all went to the man’s house. When we reached the
fence, we opened the gate and went inside and began throwing
stones and sticks at the house and through the windows; and we
broke in the front door with Squire Allen’s plank. All the men and
boys hooted and jeered with the greatest glee. I can still remember
seeing a half-dressed man run out of the back door of the house,
down the garden path, to get away. I can never forget his scared
white face as he passed me in the gloom. After breaking all the
doors and windows, we went back home and went to bed, thinking
we had done something brave and noble, and helped the morals of
the town.
The next day little knots of people gathered around the house and in
the streets and on the square, to talk about the “raid.” Nearly all of
them agreed that we had done exactly right. There were only a few
people, and those by no means the best citizens, who raised the
faintest objection to what had been done.
Aunt Louisa was radiant. She made her tour of the neighborhood
and told how she approved of the bravery of the men and boys. She
said that after this everyone would know that Farmington was a
moral town.
The hunted man died a year or so afterwards, and someone bought
him a lonely grave on the outskirts of the churchyard where he could
not possibly harm anyone who lay slumbering there, and then they
buried him in the ground without regret. There was much discussion
as to whether or not he should have a Christian funeral; but finally
the old preacher decided that the ways of the Lord were past finding
out, and the question should be left to Him to settle, and that he
would preach a regular sermon, just as he did for all the rest.
When it came Aunt Louisa’s turn for a funeral, the whole town was
in mourning. The choir practised the night before the funeral, so
they might sing their very best, and the preacher never spoke so
feelingly before. All the people in the room cried as if she were their
dearest friend. Then they took her to the little graveyard and
lowered her gently down beside Truman. Everyone said it was a
“beautiful funeral.” In a few months a fine monument was placed on
the little lot,—one almost as grand as Squire Allen’s. She left no
children, and in her will she provided that all the property should be
taken for the funeral and for a monument, except a small bequest to
foreign missions.
 CHAPTER XXII
THE SUMMER VACATION

I f I were to pick out the happiest time of my life, I should name

the first few days of the summer vacation after the district school
was out.
In those few rare days all thoughts of restraint were thrown away.
For months we had been compelled to get up at a certain time in the
morning, do our tasks, and then go to school. Every hour of the day
had been laid out with the precision of the clock, and each one had
its work to do. Day after day, and week after week, the steady grind
went on, until captivity almost seemed our natural state. It was hard
enough through the long fall and winter months and in the early
spring; but when the warm days came on, and the sun rose high
and hot and stayed in the heavens until late at night, when the grass
had spread over all the fields and the leaves had covered all the
twigs and boughs until each tree was one big spot of green, when
the birds sang on the branches right under the schoolhouse eaves,
and the lazy bee flew droning in through the open door, then the
schoolhouse prison was more than any boy could stand.
In the first few days of vacation our freedom was wholly
unrestrained. We chased the squirrels and chipmunks into the
thickest portions of the woods; we roamed across the fields with the
cattle and the sheep; we followed the devious ways of the winding
creek, clear to where it joined the river far down below the covered
bridge; we looked into every fishing-pool and swimming-hole, and
laid our plans for the summer campaign of sports just coming on;
we circled the edges of the pond, and lay down on our backs under
the shade of the willow-trees and looked up at the chasing clouds,
while we listened to the water falling on the wheel and the dozy
hum of the grinding mill. In short, we were free children once again,
left to roam the fields and woods to suit our whims and wills.
But even our liberty grew monotonous in a little while, as all things
will to the very young,—and, for that matter, to the very old, or to
anyone who has the chance to gain freedom and monotony. So in a
short time we thought we were ready to do some work. We wished
to work; for this was new, and therefore not work but play.
When I told my father of my desire to work, he seemed much
pleased, and took me to the mill. But I noticed that as we left the
house he put a small thin book in the pocket of his coat. Later in the
day, I found that this was a Latin grammar, and that he had really
taken me to the mill to study Latin instead of work. I protested that
I did not want to study Latin; that I wished to work; that school was
out, and our vacation-time had come; and that I had studied quite
enough until the fall term should begin. But my father insisted that I
ought to study at least a portion of the day, and that I really should
be making some progress in my Latin grammar. Of course the
district school did not teach Latin; the teacher knew nothing about
Latin, and, indeed, that study did not belong to district school.
I argued long with my father about the Latin, and begged and
protested and cried; but it was all of no avail. I can see him now, as
he gravely stood by the high white dusty desk in the little office of
the mill. Inside the desk were the account-books that were supposed
to record the small transactions of the mill; but these were rarely
used. The toll was taken from the hopper, and that was all that was
required. Even the small amount of book-keeping necessary for the
mill, my father scarcely did,—for on the desk and inside were other
books more important far to him than the ones which told only of
the balancing of accounts.
My father stands beside the dusty desk with the Latin grammar in
his hand, and tells me what great service it will be to me in future
years if I learn the Latin tongue. And then he tells me how great my
advantages are compared with his, and how much he could have
done if only his father had been able to teach him Latin while he was
yet a child. In vain I say that I do not want to be a scholar; that I
never shall have any use for Latin; that it is spoken only by
foreigners, anyhow, and they will never come to Farmington, and I
shall never go to visit them. I ask my father if he has ever seen a
Latin, much less talked with one; and when he tells me that the
language has been dead for a thousand years, I feel still more
certain that I am right. But he persists that I cannot be a scholar
unless I master Latin.
It was of no avail to argue with my father; for fathers only argue
through courtesy, and when the proper time comes round they
cease the argument and say the thing must be done. And so,
against my judgment and my will, I climbed upon the high stool in
the little office and opened the Latin grammar, while the old miller
bent over my shoulder and taught me my first lesson.
Can I ever forget the time I began to study Latin? Outside of the
little door stands the hopper full of grain; a tiny stream is running
down the centre, like the sands in an hourglass, and slowly and
inevitably each kernel is ground fine between the great turning
stones. All around, on every bag and bin and chute, on every piece
of furniture and on the floor, lies the thick white dust that rises from
the new-ground flour. Outside the windows I can see the water
running down the mill-race and through the flume, before it tumbles
on the wheel. The hopper is filled with grain, the wheat is tolled, the
water keeps falling over the great wheel, the noise of the turning
stones and moving pulleys fills the air with a constant whir. My
father leaves the mill at its work, comes into the little office, shuts
the door, and tells me that mensa is the Latin word for “table.” This
is more important to him than the need of rain, or the growing
wheat, or the low water in the pond. Then he tells me how many
different cases the Latin language had, and exactly how the Romans
spoke the word for “table” in every case; and he bids me decline
mensa after him. Slowly and painfully I learn mensa, mensæ,
mensæ, mensam, mensa, mensa, and after this I must learn the
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