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16                                           Memories of a Long Life

where he threw both hands above his head and said, “MY God!:  Well, I felt that it was serious.   My father died the fifth night of April, 1877 (Thursday), and was buried Saturday.  My younger sister (Note: Mary A. Gean) died just twelve days after.  Sister Maggie, who was next younger than I, was so low that for some time we were very careful.  When she got able to ride she was carried to Aunt Nancy Mattox’s so I could get everything straightened up.  A good colored woman, one I believe honest, Terry Farrow, came and for two or three days we were in and out, upstairs and down, but in a few weeks I got things so I felt like I could rest.  Dr. Moore, whose people lived in Pittsboro, would come out and spend awhile as a friend.  He was a little man and had a foot so small he said all the socks he got were too large.  Well, I took great pains spinning and preparing some thread—I love the work—and when I would sit down from heavy work I would knit, so I knit a pair of socks just large enough for my foot.  Dr. Moore saw them and offered to buy them.  I made him a present of them and was well paid to see how he did appreciate them.  He would talk as a brother or friend; he said for me to go off and get with some young people and try to cheer up, saying that I was not so strong and really needed rest, although I was not really sick.  I went over in Moore County; Mr. Neal Tyson’s family invited me to their house.  His wife was a Boon, first cousin of Uncle John Boon.  I spent five weeks with that family the first summer the Lemon Springs was opened for the public.  Uncle Jehu Boon, Mrs. Lois Womble and Miss Sallie Johnson came and spent a few weeks at the springs; they were the first visitors that came for their health.  I went a few times, made my home at Mr. Tyson’s; they were all just as good and kind to me as any could be.  Several times if I felt rather weak some one would bring some of the water over.  With the rest and the water I was much improved.  I taught school a short while in the neighborhood, boarding at my cousin Thomas Harrington’s, and found some true, good friends.  Well, J. B. Mansfield had moved up to a place he had bargained to buy, where brother William built on, as he could not get any land adjoining.  He rented my place for five years, he and family moving there.  He died ere the five years were out, but he made good while he was there. His oldest son worked out awhile and then went to school, as he could pay his way until he got far enough to stand examination and was given license to preach.  The family broke up, thinking they could do better at public work.  James Johnson, my brother-in-law, was dead; Sister Sallie, his widow, with four boys, lived in the house by the spring, so I told them they could stay if they would tend the land and take care.  They all left, moving to the house where Sister Ann and family left to go to Durham.