Summary

Z. S. Hastings Autobiography of Z. S. Hastings

No paths were ever trodden more frequently than the paths to the well, the barn and the post-office, and the church. No neighbors were ever so long ours in kindness and love. No birds ever sang so much and sweetly as those in the very trees that had been planted by our own hands. And no home was ever more truly dedicated day by day to Almighty God upon bended knee and in the reading of His word.
Do you remember the old home, boys? But life is not always sweetness. It cannot be, under the present sin-curst environments.
Source: Gutenberg

Z. S. Hastings Autobiography of Z. S. Hastings

May heaven's blessings rest on the family, noble, useful family. Earthly home is sad now. Heavenly home still nearer and dearer. And on the church she loved, on the Senior C. E.—we will not forget her pure sweet talks there—on the Junior C. E. she organized and superintended until death. On her assistant superintendent and bosom friend, Miss Maude Tucker. On the school she taught, on students of county Normal at Effingham, who loved her, on one noble young student of Drake University who came to sit among the mourners as though he was already one of the family.
Source: Gutenberg

Z. S. Hastings Autobiography of Z. S. Hastings

I said, "But you are certainly not the young, bashful, scared, Will Price of that event." "I am he" he said, and sure enough he was he. But now, so different, large, handsome, wise and brave. All boys ought to grow to be men, for men are what we need in this old, sinful, abnormal world.
In 1881 after I had been away from old Indiana my native home for about fourteen years, I returned and visited the scenes of my early life. Many were the changes—a passing of the old, and a coming of the new, bringing to me a mingling of sadness and gladness.
Source: Gutenberg

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