1816-1916 Cedarville Centennial Souvenir

on land and sea. They send messages by telegraph and telephone. They build large edifices for schools, colleges, unibersities, and churches in which to worship God. They are not a small tribe, but a mighty nation of a hundred million people, who live with a government concentrated in one great city. They ride in fine vehicles over macad– amized roads that cost thousands of doEars in the building; buggies, carriages, bicycles, motorcycles, and automobiles; and in railway cars that travel sixty miles an hour; and even now they are beginning to ride in ships thru the air 3000 feet above the earth. Which, in your opinion, is the greater race of the two-the Indian or the Anglo– Saxon? The Indian would not cultivate the soil, and the Lord sent the progressive Anglo-Saxon to drive him out, as He sent Israel to dr~ve out the Canaanite. We think the Lord did right in driving out the Canaanite and the Indian. Don't you? A CENTENNIAL POEM BY REV. H. PARKS JACKSON. The task is a pleasant duty, the history to trace, Of the early home and childhood-one's dear old native place, For it thrills our hearts with pleasure and they beat in sweet accord, While we talk of men aI\d customs, our early years afford. We need go back but a century to find a solitude In Cedarville and township land, where dwell a multitude. The forest then unbroken, the Red man walked at will, The antlered deer and buffalo grazed free on vale and hill; The eagle plumed its pinions and soared to azure skies, Birds great and small in chorus sang their loud sweet melodies; All the land was thickly covered, was dense with mammoth trees, And vines twined wildly o'er their tops and hummed with busy bees; The lilies grew rank in the valleys and flowers the hillsides o'er, The wild bird's note was mingled with that of the panther's roar, And yet "the deep-tangled wild-wood" had never heard the sound Of the white man's axe resounding in clearing off the ground; But all was wild, a wilderness, force ruled on every hand, Till the Anglo-Saxon blazed a path to civilize the land. When old Time's wheel marked eighteen hundred, the sturdy pioneer Came from Kentucky's slave-land with courage minus fear, And built a home on this free soil, ne'er cursed by slaver's power. Brave, noble-hearted men were they, and equal to the hour, They carried a gun like a hunter, an axe completed the load, They ferried the streams and the river, and blazed through the forest a road, Till they reached this part of Ohio on Massies Creek's land and lea, And marked the spot for their homestead by cutting and felling a tree. Was it a walnut, oak, or a poplar, a hickory, ash, or a bass? It might have been one of those giants, or a crooked old sassafras; Be that as it may, we are certain, that tree which fell with a boom, Was the tocsin to beast and to savage, the knell that sounded their doom; · For they lost their home in the forest and bid it a final farewell,