One habit we boys acquired on that trip stuck to us for life; until the brother was lost in the disaster of the steamer Northerner, January 5, 1861, 23 years after the barefoot trip. We followed behind the wagon part of the time and each took the name of the horse on his side of the road. I was "Tip" and on the off side, while the brother was "Top" and on the near side. "Tip" and "Top", a great big fat span of grey horses that as Uncle Usual said "would run away at the drop of a hat" was something to be proud of and each would champion his favorite ahead of him. We built castles in the air at times as we trudged along, of raising chickens, of getting honey bees, such as we saw at times on the road; at other times it would be horses and then lambs, if we happened to see a flock of sheep as we passed by—anything and everything that our imagination would conjure and which by the way made us happy and contented with our surroundings and the world at large. This habit of my brother's walking on the near side and I on the off side continued, as I have said, to the end of his life, and we were much together in after life in Indiana, on the plains, and finally here in Washington. We soon, as boys, entered into partnership, raising a garden, chickens, ducks, anything to be busy, all of which our parents enjoyed, and continued our partnership till manhood and until his death parted us. It is wonderful how those early recollections of trivial matters will still be remembered until old age overtakes us, while questions of greater importance encountered later on in life escape our memory and are lost.
In the early '50's, out four and a half and seven miles, respectively, from Indianapolis, Indiana, there lived two young people with their parents, who were old-time farmers of the old style, keeping no "hired man" nor buying many "store goods." The girl could spin and weave, make delicious butter, knit soft, good shapen socks, and cook as good a meal as any other country girl around about, and was, withal, as buxom a lass as had ever been "born and raised there (Indiana) all her life."
These were times when sugar sold for eighteen cents per pound, calico fifteen cents per yard, salt three dollars a barrel, and all other goods at correspondingly high prices; while butter would bring but ten cents a pound, eggs five cents a dozen, and wheat but two bits (twenty-five cents) a bushel. And so, when these farmers went to the market town (Indianapolis) care was taken to carry along something to sell, either eggs, or butter, or perhaps a half dozen pairs of socks, or maybe a few yards of home-made cloth, as well as some grain, or hay, or a bit of pork, or possibly a load of wood, to make ends meet at the store.
