CHAPTER XIII.

The next time I went to Oskaloosa was some time toward the last of November. There was going to be meeting in Purvine's tavern, held by the Cumberland Presbyterians. The Martins being members of that church, and as was their custom, informed me of the meeting and proposed going; but when the Sunday morning came, Patterson came by my uncle's and informed us that something had happened which prevented Amanda from going, but he had decided to walk, and knew a nearer cut to town than any we had gone before. Phillis was at my disposal, as usual, so I mounted Phillis, and Patterson walked ahead, along that newly-blazed path I followed. We crossed Spring Creek near the place where the bridge on the road to Carbonado is now. We came through timber the most of the way. On reaching the open prairie the most charming view opened out to my vision that I had seen in Mahaska County, and I had seen a good many. Just after leaving the main timber our road led between two small groves. The leaves had fallen every tree stood out clear, of any undergrowth of hazel or other bushes. There was none of that kind of small growth around there, and I thought of what my Aunt Delilah had said about that particular feature of the New Purchase, when we first came to Iowa. Just after passing those groves we were out on the broad open prairie. One of those groves was long known as "Picnic Grove." The one just west of it has been known to Oskaloosa people by different names: "The Phillips Grove," "The Hawkins Grove," and so forth, and now an ugly coal shaft disfigures the spot once so beautiful. A little way to the southwest the little village of Oskaloosa loomed up, not as I had seen it a few weeks before but instead of only a few log cabins there seemed to be dozens o! frame houses, all painted white. Off to the north was that most beautiful of all places around Oskaloosa, where; in its native state. Gently sloping to the east, a background to the north of fine timber, at the foot of the slope to the west ran a babbling little brook, whose banks were linen with willows and other trees which delight the eye. That spot which looked so charming to me on that November Indian Summer day, afterwards was the first home of myself and the husband of my youth. I had no idea who the owner was when I first saw it, but the place had a fascination, and I just gazed and thought "How beautiful!" No wonder I had some cloudy foresight into the future, for there my young husband and I went to housekeeping; there my two sons were born; there sleep my precious dead, and there I expect to sleep my last, long sleep. Although nearly fifty-five years have come and gone, I remember all that scene of charming landscape, and my thoughts as it broke upon my vision, as clearly as if it was yesterday. The way Mr. Martin looked as he walked along ahead. Mr. Martin was a small man, but he walked with a quick, elastic step. Very little had been said as we wended our way along that blazed path, as he was generally a rod or two ahead, but when that scene and the town loomed up in plain sight, he turned around and remarked, with a look of pride in his face: "Oskaloosa is beginning to look like a town, ain't it?"

When we came into the town we saw that a number of houses had been built around the public square. On the north side of the square was what seemed a very long store building with a store already in it; how fine it looked. That store was owned by A. J. Davis, the man over whose millions there has been so much litigation in Montana. George Jennison and a boy named Frank Reeves had charge of the store. Another frame building which was painted white had just been built on the west side of the square was owned and occupied as a store of general merchandise by Wm. B. Street. Of course I didn't see those people and their stocks of goods that Sunday, but afterwards.

Mr. Charles Purvine had his tavern up on the east side of the square and there was where the meeting was held. The house was only weatherboarded and covered; there was no floor, and only studding where the partitions were going to be. The workmen's benches were in, and shavings about on the ground. That was an old fashioned frame with hewed sills and posts, and the joists or sleepers were not in for the floor. The ground was bare all inside of the house; seats were improvised of
blocks with planks laid on them. A row of young men sat on a carpenter's work-bench, with shavings thick around their feet. John W. Jones was among those who sat on the work-bench. The house was full of people and they had come from far and near. A number were there from Six Mile, as a funeral sermon in memory of a Mr. Wilson, who had died several months before on Six Mile, was to be preached by Rev. Baxter Bonham.

It seems to have been thought by some ministers in that day, that to cause violent weeping and wailing among the audience, especially the friends of the dead, was the proper thing to do in preaching a funeral sermon. Mr. Bonham seems to have been of the class who entertained this idea. He came to that meeting prepared to operate on the tender sympathies of his audience. His supply of touching incidents was great; his emotional eloquence not only set his audience to weeping, but set him to weeping himself, and he fell into such a fit of weeping that he was compelled to stop talking and just stand there and weep. The situation became embarrassing, so much so that after a few moments he apologized to the audience, informing them that his love for the deceased was so great and his grief so intense that he could not restrain his tears.

By the time winter had fairly set in, Mr. Purvine had his tavern in running order, and was prepared to entertain the traveling public and all those doctors and lawyers who were homeless. That tavern was a story and a half with four good-sized rooms on the first floor and one big room up stairs with six beds in it. Mr. Purvine's was the first tavern built in Oskaloosa, though Mr. Canfield did keep, what was called a tavern a little while. The Canfields kept the judge and lawyers who held court the Summer before. Many funny incidents used to be related of the Canfields' tribulations in trying to provide for that functon. Mr. Purvine kept that tavern only a few months, when in the Summer of 1845 he sold out to Jerry Brown and Thomas J. Willis. Mr. Willis was not married, but held a valuable claim some three or four miles east of town, which he traded to Mr. Purvine in that tavern deal. When I first came to Mahaska County Mr. Willis and Mr. Wlll B. Campbell were keeping bachelors' hall jointly, both improving claims. If they were not adjoining, they were very near together. Mr. Campbell is one of the few who live where they first settled. He married Miss Sarah Lucetta Dunbar in 1847. They have always been respected and useful members of society. Their son, Walter Campbell, is an honorable and prosperous business man and a respected citizen of Oskaloosa. Walter Campbell's wife, who was Miss Mollie Moreland, is one of Oskaloosa's brightest women.

Mrs. Jerry Brown, wife of Mr. Willis' partner, died soon after moving into the tavern. Mr. Willis went to the Galena lead mines, where his health failed and he died in 1846. The Purvine tavern was on the ground where the Downing House now stands, Lot 5, Block 19, o. p. That hostelry changed owners frequently in the first few years of its existence. In 1852 Mr. J. M. White purchased it and for a while it was kept by Mr. Hugh MeNeely, who, in partnership with John R. Needham, in 1850 printed the first newspaper ever printed in Oskaloosa. That was the beginning of The Oskaloosa Herald. I read the first issue of that paper and have read nearly everyone since. That first issue of The Herald was a small affair, but fully up to other things in that early day. I remember well how eagerly I seized that little sheet and never stopped until I had read every advertisement and everything else on it. I was so proud to know that Oskaloosa could afford a newspaper. In these days when newspapers are lying about in heaps and piles in almost every house, my thoughts go back to a time when we hardly ever saw a newspaper; when by any chance one would fall into my hands I would read it over and over again. Though some of the articles therein were too deep for my comprehension I would read them any way.

In the Autumn of 1844, when I was teaching that first school, Tom Springer sent me a periodical called The Illuminated Magazine, and published in London. Mr. Springer was the eldest son of Matthew Springer, one of the men who located a claim at Mahaska Center in 1843, thinking the county seat would be located there. The Springers were people of more than ordinary intelligence, not satisfied with the commonplace, and possessed of force of character. Matthew Springer was an entertaining. talker, an unselfish, kind-hearted man. His children were bright, intelligent and respectable. Tom; when a young man, learned the printing trade in Indiana. I was not very well acquainted with him personally, but used to hear people speak of him as a talented young man, and when he was kind enough to send me that magazine, no wonder I was pleased and felt flattered, I kept that magazine for years laid away among my few sacred keepsakes, but finally some ruthless hand destroyed it. That brings to my mind an incident which happened years ago. I had carefully saved for years every number of a literary paper which I prized very much for the short articles therein, written by Henry Ward Beecher, Fanny Fern, and other spicy writers. I contemplated, when I should find a convenient season, cutting out those gems of wit and wisdom and placing them in a scrap-book. I had folded them and arranged them in regular order, tied them securely in bundles and put them away on a shelf in a closet up-stairs. I had placed them in perfectly even layers, wrapped a string around the short way and then around the long way and tied it good and tight, for I had a vague idea that there were persons even in this intelligent region who didn't value one old newspaper more than another. I felt that I had guarded my treasure safely against any such unappreciative creatures. But, alas! I was doomed to disappointment. One day I had a Negro man and his wife cleaning my upper rooms. After leaving them alone several hours I went up-stairs to see how they were getting along. I found them busily engaged in polishing windows, and my treasured papers all over the floor in torn piles and wads, a ruined mass. I could have cried with vexation, and when I tried to explain to them the ruin they had wrought, they gazed at me in blank astonishment, and all they had to say was: "Why, Missus, we nevah knowed dem dah ole papahs wuz any 'count only ter rub winders!" Tom Springer's Illuminated Magazine went something in the same way.

The articles in that magazine were on subjects entirely too abstruse to be understood by a mind so crude as mine was then, though I remember one article in which the writer commented very satirically on the ceremony which had just occurred at the christening of one of the little princes, son of Queen Victoria. He told of the fabulous sums expended on that infant's honiton lace robes which had been prepared expressly for that occasion, in which his sponsors renounced the world, the flesh and the devil. The writer seemed to think that honiton lace robes costing thousands of pounds was a pretty expensive outfit in which to renounce the world.

Tom Springer went to California in the early time of gold excitement, was editor and proprietor of a paper there, and at one time was State printer. I knew Matthew Springer in Indiana when I was a little girl, The Springers were descendants of the "whale fishers" of Nantucket, the Coffins, Macys, and so forth. Persons versed in the history of the early settling of America know what manner of people those Nantucket whale fishers were- enterprising, fearless, brave and honest. "A law unto themselves." Matthew Springer was born in the 18th century, was married three times and had three sets of children. Not long ago I had the pleasure of meeting the son of his old age, Matthew, Jr., and his charming wife. I could see in Matthew, Jr., the looks and the tastes of the old stock.

Mrs. Sarah Boswell, an aged lady whom everybody loves and calls "Aunt Sade," a niece of Matthew Springer Sr., has for more than forty-eight years been an honored citizen of Oskaloosa. A pillar in the Methodist Church and truly a "Mother in Israel." Mrs. Roswell is the daughter of Job Springer, who was sheriff of Jasper County, Iowa, in the early days. Mrs. David Evans, another daughter of Job Springer, lives in Newton now and is a lovely lady. "Aunt Sade" has never been blessed with a child of her very own, but has nursed, brought up, cared for and loved more orphaned brothers and sisters, nieces and nephews than any woman I ever knew. Her house has been a refuge for the homeless, whether of her own kin or not. Her hands, her voice, her means have been employed, in words of comfort and acts of benevolence. Aunt Sade is a woman of many gifts; she is many sided, and can adapt herself to almost any circumstance. She is at home with the cultured, the wealthy, the learned, and can, if occasion requires, mingle with the lowly and destitute, and even the criminal without at all losing her self-respect or self-possession. Her husband, Isaac Boswell, has heen sleeping many years in Forest Cemetery. I remember well when they came to Oskaloosa, a young and handsome couple, full of life and hope and honest purpose. They lived and worked together in harmony. Aunt Sade has endured her lonely widowhood with patience, courage and Christian resignation. She is away past three score and ten, and is just waiting for the Lord to take her where we think she will find treasure upon treasure.

In the Fall of 1843 Mr. A. G. Phillips, of Morgan County, Illinois; having heard much of the beauty and natural advantages of the New Purchase, decided to come and see for himself if the glowing stories he had heard were true. When he came he found an old acquaintance in the person of Felix Gessford the possessor of a very fine claim, which he proposed to sell, and Mr. Phillips bought it. That claim embraced a half section, which was the amount of land one man was allowed to hold as a claim. By some means he procured eighty acres more adjoining which he held for his oldest son until the son would be of age, which would be on February 18th, 1844. Mr. Phillips' claim embraced much of what is thought to be the most beautiful part of Oskaloosa-the southeastern, eastern and northeastern portion; it also included what is now Forest Cemetery. In the early Spring of '44' Mr. Phillips and wife, with their family of four sons and three daughters, came in 'wagons to Iowa Territory:, arriving at the place called The Narrows, on April 22nd. There was just one house then on the spot where Oskaloosa now stands. One of their wagons was drawn by four yoke of oxen, the other by two horses. The horse wagon carried the tent, bed, cooking utensils, and in which the family rode when they desired to do so. They drove some loose cattle through, and had some extra horses on which the children rode when they chose to. The ox wagon, which would hold almost as much as a railroad car, contained their household furniture, farming implements, and as they supposed, enough provisions to last the family until they could raise a crop. Mr. Phillips had lain in a large supply of breadstuff, bacon and dried apples, bushels of corn meal and six barrels of flour, all six barrels being intact when they ended their journey and called out "whoa" to that long string of oxen, on the spot where Oskaloosa's park, or public square, now is.

There were a number of families living within two or three miles in different directions, who it seems had all heard that the Phillipses were coming, and had bread, or the material to make bread. Those families had come the year before and many of them were out of bread. The Phillips boys had hardly gotten their oxen unhitched and turned out to graze when their father called them to come and unload a barrel of flour and knock in the head, for people were standing around waiting for flour, or meal, or something to make bread of, with pans, buckets and pillow cases. When they had deposited the barrel on the fresh, clean grass, Watson, one of the sons, took an axe, broke in the head, and laid that white, tempting mass
open to their view. One tall, slim fellow from "Hoosier Bend," exclaimed: "Jeemeses River! that makes my mouth water. I haint tasted a biscuit for six months!"

Mr. Phillips, as he stood by enjoying the scene and the remarks made by one and another, said: "Now, Wat, get something to dip this out with, and gentlemen, come on and be helped." Wat went to the wagon and got a half-gallon tin cup and commenced dipping into that flour and pouring into their various receptacles. They kept on corning and Wat kept on dipping until that barrel was empty. Mr. Phillips asked no question in regard to name or location, but permitted each man to take as much as he wanted. Nobody counted the tinfuls nor said anything about weighing, but just put flour into their pans, buckets and sacks until they said enough. I have heard the Phillipses say that they believe every ounce of that flour was returned, though some of it was a long time coming. A year and a half after that flour episode a man.came one day to the Phillips home, bringing about a gallon of flour in a pillow case. They had no recollection of the man, but he informed them that he was one of the persons who had borrowed flour of them on the day of their arrival, and this was the first opportunity they had had of returning it, and he was much obliged to them. The Phillipses lived in their tent and wagons a few days, while the boys repaired to the timber down on Spring Creek and cut and hewed a set of house-logs.

When it was known that they were ready to raise their house nearly all the men in the country volunteered to help them, and stood by them until the house was ready to live in. Their first floor was of bark peeled off of big elm trees in great big strips and laid flat on the ground with the rough side up. That was rather a poor floor, but was better than the bare ground. The Phillipses brought a large cooking-stove with them, which was placed in that cabin. The pipe was not very safely fixed in the clapboard roof, and one day the stovepipe became overheated and set the roof on fire, which threatened to render the family roofless, but they were fortunate enough to extinguish the fire before any great damage was done. I have heard it said that was the first cooking-stove brought to Oskaloosa.

There was no Oskaloosa then, but the town was located soon after .the Phillips family came, which was a source of great rejoicing, not only to that family, but to everybody who owned claims round about The Narrows. When Mr. James Seevers heard that the commissioners had selected this spot he threw up his hat and exclaimed: "Proud Mahaska!" and that is the way Proud Mahaska originated. Mr. Seevers was a quiet, undemonstrative man, but that was an occasion on which he felt called upon to do something a little out of the usual way.

Mr. Phillips first built his house in one of those groves, the one I went into ecstacies over on that Sunday morning when Mr. Martin was piloting me over that new road to Oskaloosa. Early in the Fall after the town was located and a road was laid out leading east from the town, called the Fairfield road, and running through Mr. Phillips' land, he moved his house nearer town and on that road. His land did not quite touch the original town quarter, but was not far from it. The place where he placed his house was what is now the intersection of Sixth Street and Second Avenue. He added another log house to it with a covered entry between; the family were then the proud possessors of a double log house. I can't think of another family in all this region who had two rooms at that time, except the McMurrays.

Mr. and Mrs. Phillips and some of the other families around felt that their children ought to be having the advantages of a school. So the Phillipses permitted the east room of that house to be used for that purpose, and in the winter of '44 and '45 a gentleman by the name of Caldwell taught in that room the very first school ever taught on the ground where the town of Oskaloosa now stands. In the Summer of 1845 James Johnson, a brother of Allen Johnson, the minister, taught a school in an unfinished frame house belonging to Levi Smith. That house was located on Lot 2, Block 28, o. p., or more definitely speaking, on the lot where Howard's grocery and the Blue Front are. In 1845 I taught a school in the same house I taught the first school in. I began on the first Monday in April and taught three months on the
same terms I taught the first. Several families had moved in that Spring and my school was increased in numbers.

In the Winter of '44 and '45 the government surveyors used that school-house for a camp. I don't think they asked anybody's permission, but just took possession. I don't know how they managed to sleep in that cold place, but they did sleep there and cook by that sod fireplace. When I went back to teach in the Spring there were many evidences of the house having been inhabited. There were streaks of tallow on the walls, the drippings from candles which had been fastened there with jackknife or forked stick. Evidently they had used my writing-desk for a kitchen table for those puncheons once so clean and white I found all covered with spots of grease. Their ruthlessness, or the wintry blasts, had played havoc with my oiled paper windows. Not a pane was left intact. Only a few fluttering strips of greasy paper were left clinging to that ingeniously-constructed, window sash.

On my visits to Oskaloosa I had become acquainted with nearly all the first settlers in the town and all around. It wasn't much trouble to get acquainted then. Folks didn't stand on ceremony, but were glad to get acquainted any way they could. I don't mean to convey the idea that there was no discriminating between respectability and disregard for the decencies of life, but no one was shunned on account of poverty or for having little book learning. The greater number of the first settlers were poor and became poorer as regards food and raiment before they began to reap the fruits of their early struggles. The most of them were fairly well educated for that day, but occasionally could be found men and women of real worth who could neither read nor write.

There were no beggars here in early days. People would borrow of their neighbors and return the things borrowed, but to beg was a thing too degrading to be
thought of. To offer a family food or clothing as a gift because they were thought to be too poor to provide for themselves would have been considered an offense. They were too high-spirited to be counted objects of benevolence. They would rather have worn patches and lived on corn bread and turnips. When Oskaloosa had four or five hundred inhabitants and two taverns, the landlady of one was talking to another lady about the great waste of food in her house. She said, "In my pantry is nearly a barrel of bread, not mouldy, only dry; we can't use it and it seems too good to feed to pigs." The other lady said, "Can't you give it to somebody?' The landlady replied, "I would be glad to give it away, but I don't know a family in this town I would dare to offer it to." I had read and heard of beggars, but I had kept house for twenty-five years before there ever was a beggar came to my door, with the exception of a few straggling Indians.

There were no mills in this region for a year or two after the country began to be settled, and when the people began to run out of bread somebody would go with a big ox wagon away down toward me Mississippi river and bring back a big lot of corn meal and perhaps a small quantity of flour. In that way they supplied a
whole neighborhood, and when the supply would run low again somebody else would go. By the time the second crop of corn was raised there were two mills on Skunk river, each about four miles from Oskaloosa. One was built by a man by the name of Duncan and the other by a man named Comstock. Mr. Comstock's son, Captain Comstock, lives now near the place where that mill was built. A few years ago Captain Comstock laid out and improved a beautiful park along the river, and called it "Riverside Park." He made circuitous drives, had boats on the river, built a boat-house and pavilions, and did many other things for the accommodation and pleasure of his patrons.

The Mr. Bonham whom I have mentioned as the man who delivered that memorable funeral oration was a son in law of John Cameron, who was a prominent minister in the Cumberland Presbyterian Church. Mr. Cameron and his numerous family came to Oskaloosa in 1845. He had ten daughters and one son. That son, Thomas Cameron, was one of the proprietors of the firm of Smith & Cameron, who established one of the first stores; some say the first. Others have told me that the Jones Brothers were the first. I know that on my first-visit to Oskaloosa both of these mercantile houses were among the fifteen cabins which I counted. Mrs. Cameron's daughters were nearly all married. The whole set, sons-in-law and all, came to Oskaloosa in the course of a year or two after the first settlement. Mrs. Purvine, wife of the first tavern keeper, was Mrs. Cameron's daughter. The whole Cameron family without a single exception, sons in law and daughter-in-law, were members of the same church. Mr. Berry, one of the sons-in-law, built the front part of the house where Dr. Wiley lived; which was one of the first, if not the first, brick house built in Oskaloosa. They all came here with the purpose of locating permanently, but in 1848 gold was discovered in California. In that gold excitement, with others, the whole Cameron family except one daughter, Mrs. Lister, sold out and in 1849 went across the plains to California.

The Cumberland Presbyterian Church was strong for so new a county. They had the only church building in Oskaloosa, and when the Cameron family all went off at once it came near breaking up the society. That church was located on Lots 5 and 6, Block 36, O. P. Patterson Martin and his brother, Silas, furnished the timber, hewed the sills, and hauled and placed them on the ground for that church. I remember seeing them in the summer of 1846 hauling those long sills from what was called "Skunk river timber." Dr. Hugg owns that house now and has converted it into a pretty and comfortable dwelling. The members of that church were ambitious enough to want a bell, and a bell was procured in Keokuk and hauled from there in a two-horse wagon, and it was so arranged on a frame that it rang all the way from Keokuk to Oskaloosa. We heard the bell ringing as it came up the lane just east of town. We all went out to the fence to see what it meant, and I we'll remember the look of pride on that driver's face as he passed the gazing group.

One of the prominent families among the first inhabitants was the Jones family. Mrs. Jones, an elderly lady, was a widow with an unmarried son and a daughter. John w. Jones was a handsome young man; tall and straight, with dark hair and eyes. His eyes always had a twinkle, for he was brim-full of mischief and humor and always had a joke ready. The Joneses were all tall and straight and handsome, with dark hair and eyes and fine complexions. George W. Jones was married before he came and his wife was a handsome woman. These brothers were together in business and were successful merchants in Oskaloosa for many years. John W. was elected state treasurer during the war of the rebellion. For many years the homes of these brothers were in Des Moines, where both died a few years ago. Mrs. Jones, their mother, died in Oskaloosa in the Autumn of 1845. Sarah, the daughter, was a young girl when they came here. She was as fair as a lily, and as witty and possessed of as much genuine, solid humor as her brother John. She married Mr. Samuel McWilliams. Mrs. McWilliams has been a widow many years, but is blessed with three charming daughters and a son, Gus McWilliams, a talented young business man, who recently resigned a lucrative position in an honorable and. responsible business to enlist in one of Uncle Sam's fighting squadrons. Mrs. McWilliams has reason to be proud of her daughters, who were all wise enough to choose fine business men for husbands. Two of them are engaged in raising citrons and other fruits near Tampa, Florida. Mrs. McWilliams' eldest daughter, Ellen, was one of the bright girls of Oskaloosa College in its palmiest days. Her school days were hardly over when she was married to Mr. Chamberlain, who was not only possessed of wealth as regards this world's goods, but is endowed with honor and every other quality which goes to make a manly man. They are a broad minded pair and have traveled much. Mrs. Chamberlain, as I said before, was a bright girl in school; but when she laid aside her school books and united her life and future prospects with that excellent man, Mr. Chamberlain, mental culture with her had only fairly begun. She has gone on from one degree of development to another until we find her at what is termed "middle age" a spicy writer, and a brilliant talker before audiences of brilliant men and women. Mrs. McWilliams, though well advanced in years, is a stately looking woman, and can relate more incidents of the early days than anybody I know; especially if there was, a ludicrous side to the event she relates it in an amusing style.

There were a great many families came and settled in Oskaloosa in 1845. The Hetheringtons; Dr. Owen, who was a practicing physician here for forty years; Geo. Baer and family, whose son John Baer is a citizen of Oskaloosa today. George Baer was a tailor by trade, and built and occupied a small frame shop on the west side of the square. That shop was burned in the first fire which ever occurred in the town. The Roops also came in '45. Benjamin Roop and wife came here with a family of five daughters and one son. David Roop was the son. Mary, the eldest daughter, married R. R. Harbour, a mechanic, a bricklayer by occupation. It was soon discovered that Mr. Harbour was a young man of more than ordinary mental ability. He was elected to the State Senate soon after Iowa became a State. One of Mr. Harbour's sons, whom we all called "Jeff" when a boy, is now on the editorial staff of the "Youth's Companion" and resides in Boston. Another son of the Harbours is a member of the Senate in Utah. The Harbour children are all bright.

Benjamin Roop and family came from Ohio, and it is said they only had a few dollars when they landed in Oskaloosa. Mr. Roop was an energetic and shrewd business man, and in a very few years had erected and was running a large distillery and flouring mill. The distillery has long since gone into oblivion, but the flouring mill stands there yet grinding wheat for the multitude, and is now known as "Siebel's Mill" Mr. Roop in the late forties built what was thought then to be a fine two-story and basement frame dwelling on North A street. That house is now owned and occupied by a family by the name of Avey. Mr. Roop flourished and grew rich so fast that in two or three years after he built near his mill a very large and commodious brick dwelling house. That house was built in the early fifties, and was at that time supposed to be one of the finest private residences in Iowa. It has changed owners many times, and has been occupied by many different parties as a hotel. Mr. Roop's daughters were everyone practical, sensible, splendid women.

In 1845 Orson Kinsman. built a two-story frame on the southwest corner of the square (Lot 8, Block 20) for a tavern, and called it "The Oskaloosa House." Mr. Kinsman kept that house about a year and then sold it in the Spring of '46 to Wm. Dart, from Mt. Pleasant, Iowa. Mr. Dart kept a drug store in one room of that hotel, which was the first drug store in Oskaloosa. Before that the doctors kept a stock of medicine by them. Mr. Dart sold that hostelry in a year or so to Mr. John N. Kinsman, a brother to Orson. Property changed hands frequently in those days. If anybody wanted to sell there was no trouble in finding a purchaser. John N. Kinsman's full name was John Newton Kinsman, and he was one of the commissioners that located the town of Newton, county seat of Jasper County, and Newton was named after Mr. Kinsman. Mr. and Mrs. John N. Kinsman were excellent people, honored and beloved by all who knew them; they sleep side by side in White Oak cemetery.

Mr. A. S. Nichols came in 1844 and built a dwelling house and blacksmith shop on West High avenue. He worked at his trade in the early days and made money. Mrs. Nichols' sister, Mrs. Shepherd, a handsome young widow, came to Oskaloosa in the early times. She and her two little boys had a home with the Nicholses. Mrs. Shepherd married Dr. Porter, and they both died many years ago. One of Mrs. Shepherd's sons, Will Shepherd, has long been a resident of San Buena Ventura, California. He is a lawyer and was once in partnership with, Hon. John F. Lacey, and has several times been in the newspaper business. Mrs. Shepherd, who was Miss Theodocia Hall, daughter of Judge Hall, a prominent man in Iowa years ago, but who has long sin:e passed away. Mrs. Shepherd is a niece of Mrs. Judge Seevers, and is a florist of national reputation; notices of her work, her bulbs and flowers, are frequently to be seen in the newspapers. Time brings about strange revolutions in families and communities as well as nations. The Roops who did so much in the early days to build up Oskaloosa are scattered here and there, and not one of the original family are citizens of Oskaloosa today. Mr. and Mrs. Roop and some of their children sleep their last sleep.