The young man had only his own strong hands and five or six hundred acres of wild woodland.  He grubbed up the trees and underbrush near the big white oak, removed his father’s hen-house to the cleared spot, fitted it up comfortably for a temporary dwelling, and dug a cellar in the declivity of a hill near by.  To this humble abode he conducted his young bride, and there his two first children were born.  The second was named Isaac Tatem Hopper, and is the subject of this memoir.

Rachel inherited her mother’s energy and courage, and having married a diligent and prudent man, their worldly circumstances gradually improved, though their family rapidly increased, and they had nothing but land and labor to rely upon.  When Isaac was one year and a half old, the family removed to a new log-house with three rooms on a floor, neatly whitewashed.  To these the bridal hen-house was appended for a kitchen.

Isaac was early remarked as a very precocious child.  He was always peeping into everything, and inquiring about everything.  He was only eighteen months old, when the new log-house was built; but when he saw them laying the foundation, his busy little mind began to query whether the grass would grow under it; and straightway he ran to see whether grass grew under the floor of the hen-house where he was born.

He was put to work on the farm as soon as he could handle a hoe; but though he labored hard, he had plenty of time and strength left for all manner of roguery.  While he was a small fellow in petticoats, he ran into a duck-pond to explore its depth.  His mother pulled him out, and said, “Isaac, if you ever go there again, I will make you come out faster than you went in.”  He thought to himself, “Now I will prove mother to be in the wrong; for I will go in as fast as I can, and surely I can’t come out any faster.”  So into the pond he went, as soon as the words were out of her mouth.

A girl by the name of Polly assisted about the housework.  She was considered one of the family, and always ate at the same table, according to the kindly custom of those primitive times.  She always called her mistress “Mammy,” and served her until the day of her death; a period of forty years.  The children were much attached to this faithful domestic; but nevertheless, Isaac could not forbear playing tricks upon her whenever he had opportunity.—­When he was five or six years old, he went out one night to see her milk the cow.  He had observed that the animal kicked upon slight provocation; and when the pail was nearly full, he broke a switch from a tree near by, slipped round to the other side of the cow, and tickled her bag.  She instantly raised her heels, and over went Polly, milk-pail, stool, and all.  Isaac ran into the house, laughing with all his might, to tell how the cow had kicked over Polly and the pail of milk.  His mother went out immediately to ascertain whether the girl was seriously injured.—­“Oh, mammy, that little rogue tickled the cow, and made her do it,” exclaimed Polly.  Whereupon, Isaac had a spanking, and was sent to bed without his supper.  But so great was his love of fun, that as he lay there, wakeful and hungry, he shouted with laughter all alone by himself, to think how droll Polly looked when she rolled over with the pail of milk after her.