Mrs. Anna Stephens Tells ofMassillon of Long Ago.OUTINGS! AT MEYER’S LAKE.Went to School in Barn WherePublic Library Now StandsThrilling Climax to a ShakespeareanEntertainmentWhen the Reservoir DamBroke in ’48.There are few if any persons in thecity who know more about the development of Massillon, from personal observation, than Mrs. Anna Stephens, of 188 West Main street. She is now 78 years of age and has livedin Massillon since she was six years old. Far from being seriously affected by the advance of age, she is still as hearty and her memory is still asclear as the average woman of fifty.0showHer powers of reminiscence that she has been a keen observer ofthe changes that have occurred within the town in the past seven decades, and a half hour’s chat with her is better than a trip into Ihe dim, long-forgotten past. When seen at her home in West Main street by an Independent reporter Wednesday afternoon, she was busily engaged in her house work with as much vim as a womanof half her age. Pulling her favorite rocker up before the fire she said: “Yes, I can remember when Massillon was not a city of lo,000 people. Many of the incidents of the past seventy-five years are clear in my mindas they were the day they happened. When I draw up my easy chair, the happenings of the past flock into my mind so fast that I hardly know what to tell you first. Of course, when Ifirst came to Massillon, I was but a mite of a girl, only six years old.“With my parents I arrived in Massillon from Cleveland by the canalboat route, which, with stage coaches, was the only means of transportation. I was born near Dublin, Ireland, but did not live there long. After living a short time in Canada, 1 came to Massillon in 1836. I had never seen snowIn my life until I came to this country. In Ireland snow is an unknown quantity. Once, so my mother told me, they had a heavy frost there and the people thought it a cause for celebration. Bonfires sprung up all over the country and the people rejoiced at the strange spectacle.“There was not a school house ora church in Massillon when I reachedhere. I first went to school inabarn which was on the lot now occu-li-pied by the McClymonds public brary. I distinctly remember playing on the pile of lumber from which I)r. Watson’s house was built. Later Dr.Watson’s house was replaced by the residence of J. W. McClymonds. The Episcopal church was the first churchin Massillon. If I remember correctly, my brother, Charles Higginbotham was the first baby who was baptized in the first church. Later I attendedschool in the basement of this church.“I shall never forget the first entertainment that I attended. Our only theater was in a barn at the rear ofThf:Is11I11(ithe site which is at present occupied by the Boston store in East Main street. The appointments were rude and our only lights were candles. William Burke, a tailor from here, often ied companies which gave plays fromShakespeare. One night while theflickering candles gave but a half-light, Burke commenced to recite withappropriate gestures, “My Name is Nerval. On the Grampian hills my father feeds his flock—” Just then Mrs. Burke, not exactly understanding the condition of affairs in the dim light, entered and shouted, “William Burke, you’re out of your head. Your name ain’t Norval and vour fathermbenever saw the Grampian hills. Come down here and go home with me.’’ That has been indelibly impresseddaT1se.1.upon niv memory.“Seventy years ago parties of young folks went to Myer’s lake on pleasure outings, but conditions were somewhat different than now. Instead of taking the electric car, we went intwo-horse wagons. We rode in oneMDfl3 beuPi(Acand in the other we transported the boat and fishing outfit. Where now are hotels and pleasure booths, were then occupied by the stately trees of the forest. Among the few recollec-Pintions that remain to me of that day is the fact that we had no dinner. Wehad spread the cloth near the shore\vlt;teirelt;pohr