D~ EIGHTTHE LINCOLN SUNDAY STAR— SUNDAY, JUNE J, 2930.Pioneer Days of Nebraska Are VividlyRecalled By 89-Year-Old Lincoln WomanShown above is Mrs, garah Jane Brown, Nebraska pioneer, nearing her ninetieth birthday, with four generations of her descendants. Mrs. Brown, who is making her home with her daughter, Mrs. Mary Cafch- erine Chandler, 1424 Folsom street, settled first at Beatrice m'1864, and came to Lincoln in 1869. Mrs. Brown is at the extreme left. Her daughter, Mrs, Chandler is at the extreme right. To the left of Mrs. Brown is Mrs Chandler’s daughter, Mrs. W, W. Schofield. Her son. E. F. Schofield, is holding his son, Wayne lYankhn Schofield, now aged 6 years. The picture was taken when Wayne was a few months old. The Schofields also live In Lincoln.Pioneer days are not so long ago. Yet to one born to the airplane and motor car age, the title of “Pioneer” carries little meaning beyond privation, lumbering prairie schooners, Indians and sod huts. A swiftmoving world has relegated the pioneer to the dim past. There are however, a few of that disappearing legion which conquered the west, who yet remain with the power to make live again the days when they were laying the foundations of an empire.One of these is Mrs Sarah Jane Brown of Lincoln, who, nearing her ninetieth birthday, and surrounded by four generations of her children presents a typical picture of the pioneer wife and mother. A great-great grandmother now-, Mrs. Brown enjoys to the fullest the pleasure of her large family, and quietly watches the world pass by, not, however, without a surprisingly close scrutiny and perti-Inent observations on its complex activities. Mrs. Brown is now living with her daughter, Mrs, Mary Catherine Chandler, 1424 Folsom street.Recalls EarJy Incidents.When she relates the incidents of her earlier years, Mrs. Brown breaks into sudden Iaughter^-and her eyes i brighten at recollecting of an amusing incident. Or her face will assume a thoughtful expression, as she tells of the raiding Indians, or the hours she sat alone with her children awaiting her husband's return from his perilous trips to Nebraska City driving the stage coach. Her still rugged strength has resisted to a great extent the inroads of age.Bom in Vigo county, Indiana October 25, 1841, the second eldest of eleven children, Mrs Brown j with her family emigrated to Ne~ ivada, Vernon county, Missouri, in1846. Her father was- a blacksmith. There was no schooling for her nor her sisters and brothers. They had but few' even of the necessities for the family. She married George Washington Brown in 1864, the year she came to Nebraska. They settled at Beatrice, and m 1869 the family came to Lincoln.Shortly after she married, and left home, her father was slain in the yard of his home by Missouri raiders The identity of his assassins 'was never discovered.Drove Team To Nebraska.An emigrant, passing through Nevada, offered the newly-married couple an opportunity to come to Nebraska. He needed help with his stock. So while her husband herded sheep along the trail, Mrs. Brown drove a team and wagon. Beatrice was a village of a scant half-dozen houses then, said Mrs. Brown. It was a quarter of a mile lo the nearest neighbor. Her newhouse was up-to-date, though, being made of milled lumber,Mr. Brown became a stage coach driver, and freight hauler, opemt-ing between Beatrice and Nebraika City. The children began to arrive, and the young mother was left alone with them for days at a time while the father was gone. Mrs. Brown's face betrays but little of the anxiety she must have felt then, as she speaks now of the days and nights alone, with hungry, thieving Indians roaming the prairies.• On one of these days, a band of Pawnee biaves appeared at the isolated home, and demanded food. Mrs. Brown gave them bread and meat, and they departed. Shortly thereafter, a wagon train was attacked, and a number of lives lost. The depredation was attributed to these Indians. When the same band returned several days later, fear clutched at the mother’s heart, but more food sent the unwelcome visitors on their way. Although sufficing to win for her the Indians’ approving title of “heap good squaw,” the gift also served to bring more of them, when the good word got around.Grasshoppers Ate Garden.Then came the grasshoppers and the drouth, two disasters which sent many settlers back to the east, where food was plentiful. Although their garden of vegetables was wiped out in an hour by the insects, the Browns were not faced with the , prospect, of starvation, since their living did not come from the soil entirely, as that of the farmers.In 1869 Mr. Brown brought his family to Lincoln, where he,became connected with a livery business on O street between Eighth and Ninth streets. He later dug wells, and worked in the stone quarry west of the penitentiary. It was from this quarry, that Mr. Brown helped take stone for Nebraska’s first capitol building. He passed away fifteen years ago,“Sometimes I think the world Is getting worse,” Mrs. Brown commented in talking of the changes which she has seen. “It seems that they think of nothing but killing each other.” Although declaring that she doesn’t care about taking a ride in an airplane, she said that the many improvements and advances interest her greatly. Mrs.ikeholding her great-great-graudson,at other times just a quiet figure in circle.the family circ...Seven of Mrs. Brown’s children are living. They are: Mrs. Chandler. with whom she lives: Mrs. Mel-vine Keller. Mrs. N. W. WelcheJ and Mrs. A. C. Bice of Lincoln: Mrs. Emma Foster of California; Mrs. Lily Keller of Des Moines, and Gi W. Brown of Idaho.Occasionally, when a family group forms for Sunday dinners or other events, five generations are represented. As shown in the photo, they are Mrs. Brown; her daughter, Mrs. Chandler; Mrs. Chandler's daughter, Mrs. W. W. Schofield: Mrs. Schofield's son B. F. Schofield, and his son, Wayne Franklin Schofield — great-great grandmother, grandmother, father and son, all living in Lincoln.ELTON: FEE VISITS HOME OF VILLAGER PLAYING CHRISTBrown has not taken an auto ride since she was in an accident a number of years ago.Takes Care of Herself.While other members of her family go about their affairs. Mrs. Brown proceeds about hers. Upon arising, she dresses and carefully does up her hair, now white and rapidly thinning, with two combs in the back. Then until mealtime she sits m a low rocker, sometimes(Continued from Page Two sounds’’ something like ‘me and swansy/ I haven't learned the spelling, but I can now count from 1 to 100 in German. M6re fun. I had a cozy room on the top floor, the third. I had a funny incident when I got ready to climb into bed. The blankets seemed to Be about four feet ihgh. I couldn’t figure it out, until I sank my hand and arm down into the depth of the airy quilt. It was a cotton tick, a large red satin quilt filled with feathers and air. When you get under this, it fills in every crack and space around you, and is really warmer than any d02en blankets. When I looked at it, I thought ‘here’s where I freeze to death,’ so I closed the window, but after being covered for about five minutes, the windows went flying open, for I was as warm as buttered toast.Directs Bicycle Traffic.“I slept like a log that night, and awoke early m the morning. I went down to breakfast and ate a real German-styled plate. They serve rolls, butter, jam and cocoa. I asked for porridge, but they never have heard of it, c* couldn’t understand. That was the thrill, being in a native town where it was impossible to be understood in English. I had to point or use a few gurgles that I had heard and attempted to mutter.“After breakfast, about 6:30, I stood at the mam intersection and watched the morning traffic, which consisted of bicycles and carts. .There was a stately, well-uniformed policeman standing m the center of the street, directing bicycles and carts just as though he had a thundering herd of Paqkards and trucks.T*.