Father Winter
BY C. B. Stebbins.
On my settlement in Adrian, in 1842, I found my next door neighbor to be an affable gentleman of sixty-four years, of commanding presence, and in every way of a patriarchal appearance, called by everybody, "Father Winter.'' He died about six years later. Sometime after his death, Mrs. Winter related to me the remarkable history of their emigration from Vermont to western Pennsylvania, and afterwards to Michigan. I was deeply interested in her story—truly romantic—both on account of the thrilling scenes
