Story of an Old Piano

It has been said that my first years were spent in the City of New York in a music house kept by J. Thurston, a dealer in musical instruments. I was too young, however, to remember anything of this portion of my existence. My recollection dates from the time the sunlight flashed across my ivory keys in a large apartment in a "Select Boarding and Day School for Young Ladies." I soon found my mistress Helen Gilchrist; a slender girl, only fourteen, whose big black eyes often grew misty from homesickness for the Illinois home so far away in the Western Wilderness. 

Two years passed away, when, one day, I was boxed for shipping. I heard talk of a log cabin, and wondered much what a lob cabin might be. I was put aboard a sailing vessel at the port of New York, and after weeks of voyaging was landed at the wharf of a city called New Orleans. Here I was stowed away on the deck of a big steam boat, and was soon steaming up the Mississippi River, landing at a trading post called Warsaw. Transferred from the boat to a farmer's wagon, I began my journey from Warsaw to Tennessee Township, McDonough County . . . I was overjoyed to meet my mistress once more and to see her happiness with her father, mother, and four younger brothers. . . . 

People came from miles to see me, the first piano in McDonough County, and the first which many a grown person had ever seen -- to admire my polished case, two convenient drawers to hold sheet music, and hand-carved legs. My sweet tones astonished and delighted them, when the fingers of my owner drew forth such melodies as "Bonaparte Crossing the Alps," "Haste to the Wedding," and "Flow Gently, Sweet Afton." 

Once more, in 1850, an overland trip was made. Only twelve miles this time, and it is hoped this journey will be my last! I was brought to Fountain Green, here to this house which has been my house ever since. The young bride soon made many friends in the new home. Lonely she often was when the Doctor was absent for days and nights at a time, riding with saddle bags behind him, miles over country roads, to carry comfort and healing to the sick. . . . For a while my honors were shared with a new sewing machine. As people came to see me, so they came now from far and near to see this great wonder -- a machine that could stitch and hem. I was quite neglected and felt decidedly 'flat.'