The Journals of Martha E. McMillan

March 11 March Wed. Cloudy. Our baby attempted to Laugh this morning for the first (!) Bro John ? ? Williamson and that sheep man Bradley were looking at James’ stock— all here for dinner. Afternoon— ? Carson called and nursed the baby awhile for me— Old Bettie attending to business in the Kitchen— fast John and Little around on the plantation. 28 March Sat. Cloudy. James over near Jamestown at some Taylors at a sale. Old Bettie’s son Charlie landed today— in our kitchen (!) A safe and sure retreat (!) About nine O'clock this morning Old Hugh Nesbit? Died— long has Cedarville sheltered him— but now he has gone to another city— to the city of the dead or to that beautiful city beyond the stars. May 29 May. Friday—a James out assisting with the corn planting. Bro Silas & Hugh’s Bob here shearing sheep— As the ten O'clock eve press? passed up this morning, it killed & wounded quite a number of James’ fine sheep, which had gone through the ledge? & were on the track— For the afternoon Dr. Caldwell & James & Sister Matt here, as Riley came on to doctor the sheep— All here for supper in the evening. Dave’s? Matt called. “The curse causeless does not come.” And when I ask myself why were the sheep taken & why do we suffer this loss, I cannot help but feel that it is by way of punishment for Sabbath Sins, for I am afraid we do not remember to keep the day holy as we should— If we are truly Christians, we are God’s children, and he will visit us either in love or wrath, according as we remember and keep his holy day— true it is— “That a Sabbath day well spent Brings a week’s content And health for the toil of tomorrow But a Sabbath day profaned Whatever is gained Is a certain forerunner of sorrow” 12 May. Tuesday. James has been around all afternoon— he is thinking of going in with Sam Galbreath for the night of this township for another Patent Hay Fork— I think if they do it will be a good thing! Do all burned cats dread the fire? I am afraid not— Rain in the afternoon. James & Edd Smith at Clifton & at Joe Johnson’s— reached home after night as wet as chickens and as “Ahem” as wet hens! 37