I would like to say something about the pleasures I had in going to visit the homes of uncles. To go to Uncle Dan’s on a Saturday, was a joy. How kind they were to a healthy boy. Oh, those big slices of bread with apple butter on them given by Aunt Jane without stint or disfavor. And how full of mischief Will and Rob and with myself no second. If I thought the little grandchildren would not take this anecdote too serious I would tell one on us boys. After spending a delightful day at Uncle Dan’s we started for home across lots through Uncle Harry Clow’s corn-field. How pretty it looked just high enough to plow the first time. And there were 5 of us in the company, and we each took a row a piece and clipped out every hill until we were discovered by the hired man, Bill Heise, with his arms circulating like a Holland windmill and a voice of thunder, we scattered for home. I don’t remember how Bob and Will got home, I know we never told our folk.

Then there was glad times at Uncle Mungo’s . How good he was to a boy like me, while he usually worked me I never held it against him. How dear Aunt Mam used to fix me a place to sleep, on the lounge, for her house was always full. There was Auld Willie Tait who came like Sullivan every summer and Frank, the Nigger. Aunt Betty had her place too, always faithful with her full kettle of potatoes and mush in the morning. I think the biggest fright I ever got in my life was when I had been picking potatoes all day for Uncle Mungo. After supper Uncle Mungo said I think you had better go home now, Ben. It was dusk and as I went by the tool shed in the center of the field a screech owl gave a hoot and my hair felt awful funny, I certainly ran for home.

Then there was Uncle Tom. To me he was a clown and a dignified school teacher. At home he was jolly full of fun, always encouraging me to imitate some character in the community, his favorites were Bill Davis, John Keiser and others. To me it was a source of great pleasure. He employed me to hoe, I remember, I took a job of chopping out thistles in his pasture. I never completed that contract for I broke the handle. Uncle Tom was a very devout Christian and he assumed a fatherly charge over me and felt it was his duty or privilege to whack me over the head with a book, its a wonder I wasn’t a hard headed christian, all those thing contribute for the betterment of mankind. How I used to like to carry the mail and bring Uncle Tom’s. He used to pay me some times, either with money or a piece of cookie or an apple. He had a very interesting garden which was looked after by William Lamont. He was a taylor, auld Willie liked his beer and whiskey and he finally became a sot and Aunt Agnes wouldn’t keep him around so he went to live with the Westfalls across the road. They moved away and auld Willie went with them.

Now I wouldn’t be fair unless I said something about my dear Uncle Andrew. He lived with us so long that he almost seemed like a father to us. I remember the day he was married and the separating of his family and ours and the home he went to was Old Steve Carpenter place. His daughter, Emma, has the old deed and the little mortgage that was given at the time. What a delight it was to go to Uncle Andrew’s. The orchard was large and much fruit was on the trees, and there was a grapevine that used to have luscious fruit. The apple cider season was a busy one for the people in those days used to make apple butter, cooked for hours to bring it to the proper consistancy and they used to stir all night long. Aunt Polly was an expert at the butter making.

Time rolled on and with it came Mary, John, Tom, Andrew, Annie and Emma who was born in Iowa. John and Tom were the cutest two boys I ever knew. I must relate a little story about them. John had been playing with a little calf around the yard and the calf could stand for everything until John grabbed him by the leg, of course that meant a swift kick which bowled John over. John soon regained his roguish poise and called Tom. John instructed him to grab the calf’s hind leg, for John it was a success. To us Uncle Andrew seemed closer than the other relatives, for his family and ours were life long neighbors. I can never forget in his last illness how he longed for my presence, and I never regret spending much of my time with him the last few months of his life.

I am proud of the Pattersons and all the relatives. I might say it brings joy to my heart to know and realize that as a people we are Christians, our peace has been made with God, and dare say there are very few but what are professed Christians. You, of the coming generations can well be proud of your ancestry.