THE VILLAGE BLACK-SMITH – NORMAN PREWETT UNDERWOOD

THE VILLAGE BLACK-SMITH

NORMAN PREWETT UNDERWOOD

It was in the 18^th century, the year was sixty-one on a February morn.

Unto Mary and Jacob from the family tree of the

Underwood, a son Norman Prewett was borne.

Twas on the Leon River, down in (Texas) the lone star state.

Their older sons were John, Jim, Joe, and Jake.

Bean was the fifth, now six did Norman make.

Mary and Jacob were made sad as could be

by the death of their seventh son, Robert Lee.

Their next son was then a great satisfaction

and they called him Wesley Jackson.

He made eight,

and the next boy, George Russell, nine did make.

Ere this time had passed, Norman’s health did fall,

and he grew so very thin and pale.

His parents thought it best,

and sent him with an uncle into the Midwest.

The months were not many when the whole family did go,

because Norman was much loved you know.

On this journey every night around the campfire light,

these boys would sing the cowboys’ songs of the

Western Plain.

When their journey to an end came, they thought Erath very good,

but settled down across the line in the county known as

Hood.

This became the well-known pioneer home of the Mary and Jacob Underwood.

Here a home so grand and meek

they made near the banks of that beautifully shaded

Poney Creek.

A house of rock so big and strong they made with galleries long and wide. This was the house in which Norman and his parents and eight brothers were to reside.

Their tenth son, Jessie Thomas, was now by his

mother’s side.

Jessie was the baby and the other boys did call

"a flower upon the wall."

Days went on and weeks passed when Norman grew at last to be a strong, wise lad.

Altho little was the schooling which he had, he was a

self made man.

And in many fields his talents ran. He could handle the black-smith tools with unexcelled slight,

And in this work he did so much delight.

At handcraft he was good.

A most perfect violin from crates of wood, by his own

hand he made,

And on it Norman learned to play in a fascinating way

the most popular music of the day.

The rhythmical beauty in poetry thrilled him to a height

that he would sit up at night.

And by a dim candlelight, long were the lyric verses

that Norman did write.

He was master complete of Orthography

and very good in Geography.

Now Norman could turn the globe in a whirl,

and locate places all over the world.

Many were the hours he did spend amid the flowers and trees

studying every life within the forest from the old

antelopes to the little honeybees.

A life’s vocation was hard for Norman to choose,

at last he decided his brain he’d use.

So to Stephensville, a horseback he did ride

(more than 50 years ago) there on the main square, his

horse he tied.

Now before the county judge Norman did apply,

For the prescribed test, that he might qualify

In public school to teach.

The goal he at once did reach.

He passed each test

with grades higher than the rest.

Returning home on his horse that night, there in the bright moonlight

Norman held his teacher’s certificate with a great

delight.

He at once began on his new school work,

at his duty Norman was never known to shirk.

He was a psychological man,

children were not hard for him to understand.

And people did confess

that Norman’s school work was a great success.

Norman at this work didn’t many years stay,

He found the work did far exceed the pay.

Once in a jolly crowd Norman was then walking by the side of his Sun Beam.

To take her home they were forced to cross a narrow

swollen stream.

To her, indeed he was very courteous and polite. He assisted her across upon the log just right.

Then he wanted her to know his acrobatic might.

Alas, his foot it missed the log

down Norman went into the muddy water and the bog.

He never crossed that swollen stream,

but then and there he had to leave his dear little Sun

Beam.

Norman was so embarrassed, and very much distressed

He knew just how his brothers would jeer at him and

laugh. Especially his brothers, Jess and Wess.

When to them he would confess how his foot had missed the log,

then he fell into the bog.

He had completely mastered the controlling of his temper when a child,

so he took all their jeers and laughter with a very

pleasant smile.

Norman was a gallant sport

he could dance, swim, sing, and court.

Of sweethearts he had many,

tho he never loved them scarcely any.

He called himself a coward

until he met the daughter of Prof. L. B. Howard.

Then and there he deeply fell

in love with that fair maid called Lela Bell.

Norman would sit and sight for a magic wand to betray

in some unknown, mysterious way his love to this fair

maiden each day.

For he possessed not the words to tell

just how much he did love Lela Bell.

Now Lela Bell with great pride

consented at last to become Norman’s bride.

A home wedding so grand

this was to be as Mary, his wife, and L. B. had planned.

Mary put the house in array in every possible way.

Also the table she did lay for the wedding feast that

day.

Lelas’s sister, Mell, was present, also her brother, Frank and Thomas A.

Lela was a beauty on that New Year’s day.

In her lovely wedding gown

with flowers all around.

When the wedding march was played,

Norm and Lela were accompanied to the altar by their

best man and bridesmaid.

When the music did all fade, Rev. McCoy read the wedding vows, which made them man and wife

for all the rest of their long life.

Norman’s brother, Wess, was the best man. Nannie Dooly was the bridesmaid.

After the wedding, they all did feast and eat,

and then at a ball they did all meet.

There the bride and groom were given first chance

Out on the floor how Norman and Lela Bell did prance

and dance.

Norman held Lela up close to his side

over the floor how their feet did glide.

Every step to the music they did abide

many were the compliments on the groom and bride.

Strange it is to say, but on their 50^th wedding day

This same man and maid by Norm and Lela stayed.

Tho Nannie’s name had changed she had confessed

that many years ago she had become the bride of Wess.

On the second wedded day, Norman’s parents with great pride

prepared an informal dinner for the groom and bride.

The day was passed with joy and glee.

Norman and Lela were happy as could be.

Lela’s father has long since gone

from this life unto the one beyond.

But Mary over in Ft. Worth does now stay

with her daughter, Mell, and son Thomas A.

Norman has the memory only of his parents to now keep,

because in death – they do now sleep.

So silent side by side, an arched stone at their graves was stood

To show to the passers-by the resting place of the

pioneers, Mary and Jacob Underwood.

Norman and Lela settle down on a small farm he did, for her provide

by the use of agronomy he applied

Until their babies begun to arrive.

They began early to plan their children’s lives.

It was to be their golden rule

to send them all to school.

Soon to Erath they did move in the village of Chalk Mountain,

which their children term as youth fountain.

Here Norman visualized the dream of his whole life,

because living here with his children and wife

He is now to be

a real village black-smith is he.

Here a small house he made

where he with his family stayed.

He bought a small shop,

and at his work now he did hop.

Norman hammered and hammered the iron and never did stop.

He provided for his family and did build a bigger shop.

This village black-smith hammered iron, and thereby bought a farm.

Then he made a great big house and barn.

A long, long table did he make

for his children’s sake

Because they now did number nine,

so they might all at each meal dine.

Their first and second children sent were to little girls with dark brown curls And eyes of blue they say.

They called them Eula Lee and sweet little Stella May.

Then the five little boys, Howard, Prewett, Aubrey , and Roy,

and Dennis was the baby boy.

These five little boys at work or play

Could turn the darkness into day.

With them carry rays of sunshine all the way morning, night and noon

they always went whistling tunes.

Their blessings were not dim.

The Poet’s "Bare Foot Boy" had nothing over them.

These five boys could each in their own way

a musical instrument play.

This family then had its own orchestra.

The last children of the nine

were two little daughters fine.

Vera you could easily tell from her mother bequeath fell.

Her hair and eyes were dark, just the image of Lela

Bell.

Eva was like unto her dad.

Blue were her eyes and beautiful were the golden

ringlets that she had.

In luxury and wealth this home did not so highly rate,

but something that far excels luxuries and wealth they

all did make.

A happy home in which kindness, love, and peace, did predominate, if for a moment you will stop and think.

For this black-smith and his wife there is no way to

measure the responsibility, the burden, and the

work their nine children did all make.

But as they worked and toiled each day,

pleasure seemed to cast a shadow over their work in

every way.

Norman taught their children from the Bible, how that Jesus died upon the cruel cross,

that he might save all people without a single loss.

They taught them from example of their own lives, day by day

how to live and walk the Christian way.

Every Sunday morning all nine of them did so well know

that to Church with their parents they would all surely

go.

Usually they attended the home church there in Chalk,

the entire family did then all walk.

But now and then on a certain day,

a visit to a distant church they would all pay.

The family’s big three seated hack

was driven out by Norman, and in it these nine

children side by side, would stack.

Their parents were so devout, so sincere, and so reliable,

This family didn’t dread these trips a little mite,

in fact, to speak the whole truth, it was their great

delight.

But as these children older grew,

one by one from this family hack they soon withdrew.

Then together side by side

in the big hack they all no more did ride.

Their early childhood training

today with them is still remaining.

They soon all reached the age you know

when the boys would take their sweethearts, and the girls each would have a beau

Up on the mountain not far from their old home, on some old cedar trees

with their pocket knives, these boys carved deeply,

names of their sweethearts, like unto these:

There was Esther, Ethel, and Virgie – all on one cedar limb.

It is certain that Howard, did the carving of them.

The next boy did the very best that he could.

He carved the name of Mary, Sula, Bula, and nearby

them, carved his own name, Prewett Underwood.

On another cedar tree, the names of Mary, Swan and Ceicle, then in larger letters still, the name of Letha was scattered all about.

The lad who did the carving of these names was

Aubrey with not a shadow of a doubt.

Roy and Dennis were pals just as true as could be.

They decided to use the same cedar tree.

Together they always went,

may have carved on the same name, all the time they

there spent.

Mary, Helois, Tommy, and Johnnie T. were several times found,

then the name of Velma Goldsmith was carved all

around.

After Dennis from home went away,

Roy not quite fair with him did play.

For all alone Roy climbed the mountain, quietly moved around did he

plainly carved the name of Leta all over their old cedar

tree.

Strange that it seems to be,

But not a girl up until this day has ever become the

bride of the boy who did the carving of her name on

the tree.

Up in the attic stacked high on a shelf

are some old school books used by each girl herself.

These books are worn and turned yellow from age,

but plainly you can see the writing on each and every

page.

There on the top are Eva’s books the first names that we of anything know,

are Loyd, Aubrey, and Joe.

From the way they appear in the book each one must have been for a period of time Eva’s beau.

There were several others written in a way twas easy to

tell their answers would be no.

As you read on further,

Eva had met another.

And with Rush she then did go,

because she did love Rush so.

He in return loved her the same.

Now she wears his name.

Their love has never grown old.

Their home has been blessed by two baby girls which is

far more treasured than gold.

In Vera’s books we find name after name

who appealed to her about the same.

Buster, Raymond, and Gib, each one of these, she at one time called her love,

but the name of Collier soon took the place of all the

names above.

Collier’s name was written high, it was written low.

It was written just so so.

Now together they still do go, she still writes his name so so.

He is her husband and now you know.

In a beautiful, well equipped home they live out in the Far West.

Once by a dear little son their home has been blessed.

In Stella’s books the names were many.

Little was the distinction between them if any.

Until we cam to Lon,

also to Ross and John.

To her these were gallant lads indeed

not a one tho did succeed.

Fate played its hand and not a one of her early lovers did she ever land,

because she had met another man.

Horace was this man’s name you know.

Stella was then playing Juliet and Horace was her

Romeo.

Yes, she wears his name today.

They are still lovers in the same old way.

Just the same as when they first met.

His is still her Romeo and she is his Juliet.

They have so much for which to treasure.

Two boys, two girls, three grandsons of which are to

them an untold pleasure.

In Eula’s books the first name was Floyd, yes they all so well know

that Floyd was her very first, first beau.

The next names they say

were Carl, Sam, and Grey.

Further on in the book and somewhat hid was the name of a thief and just what he did.

This name was no other than Sid.

He broke in one day

on the other boys and stole away.

Eula’s love for them,

and then she married him.

They now have a daughter and their sons are two.

Children they think like theirs are few.

One little grandson now have they and are always just so glad

to hear him say "Grandmother and Grandad."

Howard’s fate

Is the sadest story of the black-smith’s family to relate.

Tis almost the same story of Poe and Annabell Lee you know.

Howard married a beautiful maid by the name of Lora Lee.

Their home was in a city near the deep blue sea.

He loved nobody but Lora Lee.

She in return loved nobody but he.

To their home a little girl was sent.

She made for them so much more love and content.

But ah, one day the angels entered from above,

and took from him his wife – his love.

He took his child and slowly went away, his home it was no more,

because death had draped the windows and locked

tightly every door.

Tis’ true that time heals sorrow.

Howard began upon one morrow.

Finding consolation in his daughter, his father, and his mother,

and now he is interested in another.

At one time on returning to his old home,

he again climbed the mountain, he said, just for a

roam.

Ah, so well do we now know,

Howard went straight to his old cedar tree and

changed every name to Flo.

Prewett and Roy have patterned their lives from the Biblical character of the Apostle Paul,

and have never married at all.

But we think a chance there yet might be,

because in late years like Howard and Roy, Prewett has returned to his old cedar tree,

And in English, French, and Spanish, carved so many, many times the name of Kitty all the way around,

that birds from every nation dare not light upon his

tree or even nearby on the ground.

Aubrey has crossed the continental divide

with his wife, Etta, and two daughters does now reside,

by the peaceful ocean side.

Dennis, his wife, Cathrine, and little daughter live also down by the deep blue sea.

The Gulf of Mexico it would be.

Dennis and Aubrey not quite fair with their wives do they be.

They should at least return back home and carve

Cathrine and Etta’s names on their old cedar tree.

The rest of these children are now living in the North, East, South, and West

in places where each one likes best.

At every chance all these children take

a drive for their old home they always make

And with joy in their name, they dwell within their youth again. Their parents there they first do greet.

How sweet it is for them to meet.

Norman and Lela are now lovers old and gray, and they still love within that dear old home today.

Their dear old home is just the same they say.

As they sit out on the old front porch at night,

they can still hear the call of the old Bobwhite.

How their memory with childhood does fill as they again watch the moon rise over the hill,

and listen to the trill of the lonesome old whipperwill.

And while at home, their friends of old, they can see instead of dream.

Also the same old trees and flowers along the stream.

As they hesitate and wander there,

how their mental pictures fair

Cling to the days of the past

as the flag clings to the mast.

Now and then they may catch the lost perfume

from the old wild plum tree bloom.

As they look in many ways

time turns backward, into their by-gone days.

Alas, their old schoolhouse has fallen in decay.

It has long ago been moved away.

No more they will go with in this dell,

and listen to the tolling of their old school bell.

Now in memory only they can tell

of their old school days they all did love so well.

And their hearts are saddened when they look another way.

Their father’s black-smith shop, it’s not there today.

Then they no more will ever catch the scent

from the burning stone coal in his furnace so relent.

And no more will they ever hear their father in his shop,

with his mighty muscled arm on his big anvil

hammering on the heated iron.

Because just like their old schoolhouse, his shop has fallen in decay,

and has all been moved away.

Norman is still keeper of his farm,

and he now does work around his barn.

He still keeps each boy’s tree

just as neat as it can be.

Lela too does all of her own work, she sews and cooks,

and still keeps her girls’ old school books.

Now these old lovers oft time say

They would like to call all their little children home again for just a day.

And listen to their five little boys upstairs all play, each one on his roller skate.

Then watch their little girls out among the trees again,

their big play houses make.

Their furniture made of rocks

all adorned with broken glassware, and a few old

broken crocks.

This family is now praying when their work on Earth is over,

to be in one big home safely landed, over on that other shore

where death, trouble, and cruel wars will be no more, where they’ll live again

this happy childhood as in the days of yore.

When then side by side

in the big family hack they all did ride.

When the hired man robbed the honey bees,

The girls scribbled in their school books, and the boys carved on the trees.