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while Uncle Andrew Fiske read a poem he had
written for the occasion.
These two families had been close friends ever since the Reverend
Field came to Weston in 1815 in answer to the call from the
Unitarian Church of which my great-great-grandfather, Isaac Fiske, was a
pillar. Isaac sold his house to the Reverend, as
he had recently bought the place next door; and the Field
family continued to own it until the early 1930's. Feeling per-
haps a little uncertain as to his ultimate destiny, Isaac presented
the Reverend with a woodlot near Cherry Brook so that he might have
plenty of firewood for the long New England winters. It
was a nice gesture, and I'm sure the Reverend did his best by
Isaac when he died.
All of which reminds me of a time when someone asked
Uncle Andrew if he had any concern about the hereafter.
"It doesn't matter a bit to me," Uncle Andrew replied, "I've
got good friends in both places."
Mr. Edward Field, Erlund and Olsen's father, had a flowing
moustache and a ruddy complexion, and he wore thick spectacles that
seemed to magnify a certain sparkle always present in his
eyes. When he called on friends, he usually went on foot, and
being a gentleman of the old school, wore a morning coat and a derby hat
and carried a cane.
Once we had a new waitress — a not uncommon occurrence
as our domestic turnover was always heavy — and one of her duties was to
answer the front doorbell. The first night she was with us
we put a dummy in her bed, and her reactions were
better than could be expected; one look at it sent her screaming
to the kitchen for help. So next day we decided to try another |
