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SIMEON IDE Yeoman, Freeman, Pioneer Printer By , LOUIS- W. FLANDERS, M. D. With A GENEALOGY OF THE IDE FAMILY Compiled by EDITH FLANDERS DUNBAR Bibliography of the Imprints of Simeon Ide By R. W. G. VAIL Rutland, Vermont THE TUTILE COMPANY 1931 Copyright by Lours W. FLANDERS, M. D. Dover, N. H. Printed in U. S. A. CONTENTS AUTHOR'S PREFACE 5 FOREWORD 7 SIMEON IDE 9 BIBLIOGRAPHY IMPRINTS OF SIMEON IDE • 139 GENEALOGY OF THE IDE FAMILY 173 ALLIED LINES 275 ADDENDA 289 INDEX 313 SIMEON IDE Yeoman, Freeman, Pioneer Printer AUTHOR'S PREFACE In reading the intimate journals of Simeon Ide, one becomes convinced of his honesty and unconsciously es­ pouses his cause. Those journals were written with much unnecessary verbiage, frequent moral reflections and many underlinings intended to secure the attention of the reader. If a little of his style has crept into this book, it has been allowed to remain in the interest of unity and because it places a little emphasis upon the system of teaching by moral precept so prevalent in his day. FOREWORD The lives of great leaders are always written, and sometimes a too. eager pen may ascribe to them a glory which, in part at least, is but the reflected light of incon­ spicuous followe'ts. If we think of a nation as the expression of leader­ ship, we must also, and with even greater reason perhaps, think of it as the expression of those who have been led; since in these latter are the rugged qualities which give that nation individuality and character. Simeon Ide had these rugged qualities and he led his kind-that guild of skilled artisans to which he be­ longed and to which he was so intensely loyal. Calling himself "Yeoman and Freeman" when these terms had a meaning of their own, his life was the life of the inde­ pendent, forward-looking man of his day, and the expres­ sion of what was native, best and enduring in his char­ acter. It deserves all the greater emphasis because that emphasis is overdue. He lived almost a century and this realistic story of him is more than the mere record of an honest man. It is history, moving, veracious history, quick with the spirit and thought of some of America's most difficult days. There is here also something so intimate, brave and human, so eloquent of clean living and simple pro­ bity, that it cannot fail to challenge the attention of those, old and young, who are interested in the values of the past, and who are not above confessing what is due to the character, the courage and the labors of their for­ bears. F.W.C. SIMEON IDE In the year 1877, upon a side street in the town of Claremont, N. H., there was a square wooden house with a mansard roof. Attached to the house in the rear was a woodshed, and over the shed was an unfinished room furnished with an antique stove, two or three cases of type, an old-fashioned Washington hand-lever press and a modern foot-power printing-machine. On a certain day of that year an old man of eighty­ three was standing at one of the cases busily engaged in setting type. A boy of thirteen was rummaging about the room, picking up and examining curiously the vari­ ous tools used in the art of printing. Presently he ap­ proached the old gentleman with an odd-shaped steel box. "What is this, Grandpa 1" "That is a composing stick, my son." "What do you do with iU" "We set up the type into words as I am doing with this one I have in my hand." He looked at the lad kindly over the tops of his glasses. In spite of his love for his grandchild, the boy had distracted him from his work with his persistent questionings. Perhaps he could amuse him and keep him quiet for awhile. ''Would you like to learn to set type 1 '' he asked. "Yes, Grandfather." The old printer led the way to one of the cases and seated the youngster upon a high stool in front of it. '' These little leads in the boxes before you have letters on the ends of them. They are not arranged in order like the alphabet in your spellin' book, but the ones we use oftenest are nearest your hand. This is the 'prentice's desk. The names of the letters are pasted 10 SIMEON IDE up over the boxes. You must learn the location of them so well that you will be able to find them with your eyes shut.'' He tore off part of a printed page and stuck it up in front_ of the boy. '' This is your copy. Take these little leads and spell out the words, beginning in the lower left-hand corner of your stick. You see the type has two little notches cut in one side. Those notches go away from you. That is so you won't get a letter bottom-side up. These little leads without any letters on them are spaces. You must put a thin one in after each word.'' The old man measured the line and set the gauge in the composing stick. "Do you know what a hyphen is T'' he asked. "Yes, sir; it is a little straight mark to show that a word is split in two.'' ''That's right. Don't forget to put one in if you can't get the whole word into the line. Now let's see what you can do.'' The boy was delighted with the new game. He was quick to learn and deft with his fingers. For the space of half an hour no sound was heard save the clicking of the type in the hands of the pair. Presently the youngster said, '' The little box is full. What shall I do now, Grandfatherf" "So soon 1" The old gentleman wiped his hands on his canvas apron and taking the stick turned it up to the light and examined it critically. "You have done very well," he decided. "Every word is spelled correctly.'' He had a curious habit of lifting his brows and drawing down the corners of his mouth when deeply interested or amused. In this way he regarded the boy seriously for a moment. "You would make a marster printer,'' he said. SIMEON IDE 11 "Can you read that backwards, Grandfather1" "Just as well as you can for'a'ds, my son. It would be a pity if I couldn't do that after sixty-eight years of practice. ' ' " ''Sixty-eight years!'' exclaimed the boy incredu­ lously. "Why, how old were you when you began1" "I was 'bound out' to my marster by my father when I was fifteen to serve until I was one and twenty. We worked twelve hours a day; all the rest of the time we had to ourselves, unless the missus wanted us to run errands for her." His eyes twinkled under the uplifted brows as he paused to note his grandson's reaction to this statement. The irony passed over the youngster's head. It had just dawned upon him that this old man with his wrinkled face and shock of snow-white hair had once been a boy like himself. "What did you do when you were little, Grandfather1" he asked curiously. "Moved, mostly. My father lived in half a dozen different houses in about as many towns during the first ten or a dozen years of my life. In the winter of 1799 my uncle, Zenas Stone, took me in a sleigh from Reading, Vermont, to Shrewsbury, Massachusetts-, to live with my grandparents. It was two years before I saw my mother again. I was a tough little chap, but I was only five years old and it was bitterly cold. Every time I started to cry my uncle would say, 'Sing, Simmy, sing!' All the music I knew was a verse or two of Watt's hymns, but in trying to remember the words, I forgot the cold. Try it some time; it helps you to forget your troubles." "But didn't you play any1" '' Oh, yes; I played goold and tag and ball, same as you do, I guess, but there were so many chores to be done that I didn't get much opportunity for play." 12 SIMEON IDE All this time the old printer had held the composing stick in his hand. He now inspected it keenly once more, comparing jt with the copy on the desk. Up went his eyebrows. "' "Why, what's this!" he exclaimed. "You have left out all the commas and semi-colons." "Yes," replied the boy easily, "I never bother about them when I am writing a letter, so I did not put them in there.'' '' That will never do,'' protested his grandfather. '' Everything done in a printing office must be exactly right. But you certainly show an extraordinary apti­ tude for the business. I must talk to your mother about it." '' Is there much money in it, Grandad 7'' '' There may or may not be, but it offers splendid opportunities to the children of the lowly. The great Doctor Franklin himself was the son of a poor soap­ boiler. Never think of riches, my son. There is no em­ ployment more honorable or useful than that of the day laborer-the honest, intelligent, industrious, frugal farmer and mechanic.'' Then with trembling earnest­ ness, '' Printing and book-making is the art of all arts.

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