freedom they could not have in the towns and cities.

About eighty years ago, a widow and her family—a son and a daughter—packed up all their worldly possessions in an emigrant waggon, and started for the West. Widow Ballou made her home in the State of Ohio, which at that time was only peopled by a few scattered settlers. Five years afterwards, a young man named Abram Garfield started on the same journey. It is said that he was more anxious to renew his acquaintance with the Ballou family than to make his fortune. The widow's daughter Eliza was the attraction that drew him into the Western wilds.

On the third of February 1821, Abram Garfield and Eliza Ballou became man and wife, and their first home was a log cabin, which the young husband erected at Newburg, near Cleveland. It was an isolated spot, for Cleveland, the larger place, then consisted of a few log cabins, containing a population of about one hundred persons.

The humble dwelling of Abram Garfield and his young wife had but one large room. The three windows were of greased paper, a substitute for glass, and the furniture was home made and of the rudest description. Wood was the chief material used. There were wooden stools, a wooden bed, and wooden plates and dishes. A frying-pan, an iron pot, and a kettle, made up the list of utensils which were absolutely necessary.

Nine years passed away, during which the young couple were very happy in each other's love, and three children were added to their little family circle. Abram worked on the land, and was for a time employed in the construction of the Ohio and Pennsylvanian Canal. To provide for his growing family, the young husband then bought fifty acres of land, a few miles away from his first home. At the same time, Amos Boynton, who had married Mrs. Garfield's sister, also bought a tract of land in the same locality.

The two families removed to the new scene of their labours at the same time, and lived together in one log cabin, until they had erected a second dwelling. When this was done, the Garfields and the Boyntons settled down to reclaim the wilderness. They had to depend on each other for society, as their nearest neighbour lived seven miles away.

Garfield's new home was built of unhewn logs, notched and laid one upon another, to the height of twelve feet in front and eight feet behind. The spaces between the logs were filled with clay and mud, to keep out the wind and the rain. The roof was covered with boards, and the floor was made of logs, each split into two parts and laid the flat side up. A plank door and three small windows completed the primitive dwelling. There was but one large room on the ground floor, twenty by thirty feet, and a loft above, to which access was obtained by a ladder. In the loft were the straw beds on which the children slept.

The land which the pioneers had bought was part of the forest, and was therefore covered with timber. This had to be cleared away before the land could be brought into cultivation. Much hard work and steady application were needed to accomplish this purpose. Abram Garfield was a strong, well-made man, who shrank from no labour, however hard, and boldly faced every difficulty with a stout heart and a determined will. Early and late he toiled on his farm, cheered by the presence of his wife and children, who were all the world to him. The trees fell before his axe, and ere long he had room to sow his first crop. With a thankful heart he saw the grain ripen, and his first harvest was safely gathered in before the winter storms came on.

The trees fell before his axe.

In January 1830 he removed to his new home, and in November 1831 his fourth child was born. This baby boy received the name of James Abram Garfield. Little did the humble backwoodsman dream that the name he lovingly gave his child would one day be on the lips of millions of his fellow-countrymen; that it would rank with those of princes, kings, and emperors; and that it would be linked for ever with the history of the United States of America.

CHAPTER III.

A FIRE IN THE FOREST.

The Effects of Prairie Fires—How Abram Garfield saved his Crops—The sudden Illness and Death of Abram Garfield—The Grave to the corner of the Wheatfield.

One of General Sherman's veteran soldiers was once describing a prairie fire. When he had finished his story, he raised himself to his full six feet height, and with flashing eyes said, "If I should ever catch a man firing a prairie or a forest, as God helps me, I would shoot him down in his deed."

No wonder that the old soldier was fired with indignation when he thought of the terrible consequences which often resulted from such thoughtless or wanton proceedings. The loss to settlers is often appalling. The prairies, which in the day-time seem dry, dull, and uninteresting, give place at night to the lurid play of the fire fiend, and the heavens and horizon seem like a furnace. It is a grand, yet awful sight. Cheeks blanch as the wind sweeps its volume towards the observer, or across his track.

Full in the distance is seen the long line of bright flame stretching for miles, with its broad band of dark smoke-clouds above. Often it rages unchecked for miles and miles, where the cabins of the settlers have just been set up. No words can describe, no pencil paint, the look of terror when the settler beholds advancing towards him the devouring element. When it is first seen, all hands turn out, and a desperate attempt is made to overcome the common foe.

Sometimes a counter fire is started, which, proceeding from the settler's log house in the face of the wind, towards the grander coming volume, takes away its force, and leaves it nothing to feed upon. Then it dies away in that direction. In one instance an emigrant was travelling in a close covered waggon, when he was overtaken by the flames. In a moment, horses, family, waggon, and everything were destroyed, and scarcely a vestige remained of what had been.

Abram Garfield had successfully planted his second crop, which was nearly ready for the harvest, when he one day heard the terrible cry, "A fire in the forest." No one knew better than he did the meaning of those fearful words. Not a moment was to be lost, for he saw that it was coming in the direction of his little farm. He had no one to help him but his wife and his two eldest children, but they all set to work to save their home and the ripening crops.

Rapidly they threw up a bank of earth between the fields and the coming fire, and they so far succeeded that it swept round their homestead and continued its progress beyond.

After the long, hard fight with the fire, on a hot day in July, Mr. Garfield sat down on the trunk of a tree to rest. He had, however, conquered one enemy only to fall a victim to another. While sitting resting, and cooling himself in the open air, he caught a chill. That night he awoke in great pain, and his wife thought that he would die before help could be obtained.

In the early morning she sent her daughter Mehetabel for Uncle Boynton, and bade Thomas fetch their nearest neighbour. No doctor lived near, and the friends did all they could for the stricken man. Their efforts were in vain. Gradually he became weaker, and then without a struggle he passed away. His last words to his wife were: "I have planted four saplings in these woods; I must now leave them to your care."

Mrs. Garfield carried her burden of sorrow to that Heavenly Father whom she had learned to trust before the dark cloud of bereavement fell upon her heart and home. But for her confidence in God, and her belief that He would aid her to bring up