In pioneer times, around this school (Rice),
the houses were few and far between, and where this very school yard is, the
Indians built their tepees. Across the highway, deeper into the woods than the
present Griffing home, rose the humble cabin of Reverend James Sayre Griffing,
Pioneer Methodist minister. He carried on his preaching as a circuit rider,
taking the gospel where no church was yet established, or where no regular
minister held a service. The pioneers heard him gladly, looking forward each
time to the next meeting. At first, he made the rounds and back on saddle and
horse, carrying his luggage and Bible in his saddle bags. Later, he drove a high
two-wheeled cart, to be gone as long as six weeks at a time. Tecumseh, Topeka,
Auburn, Lawrence, Junction City, Concordia -- all were on his itinery at one
time or another.
During his absence, his faithful wife carried
on, watching over her little family and tending the chores the homestead
demanded. On one such lonely day, Mrs. Griffing had just finished hanging out
the week's wash, which now flapped drying on the line. All at once, strange
Indians appeared. It being peace time, she was not too much concerned at their
unexpected arrival. Besides, it was well known that strange Indians were wont to
stop at the famous spring about a mile west, where today Highway Forty crosses
Deer Creek.
"Want white papoose clothes," grunted
the Indians, pointing to the line. Without much ado, the thieves unpinned the
baby things and took them away. Then Baby [John] Griffing, like any other
papoose, was wrapped in a blanket, or whatever have you, until his daddy circuit
rider could procure more baby garments.
And so, in earliest infancy, the pioneer baby
yielded to his red brother not only his shirt, but likewise his pants, etc. etc.
to set a new style in papoose infant wear.
Not too long ago, the primary children of the
community ascertained the facts from the circuit rider's grandson, Lewelling
Griffing, who farms the old homestead, two and a half miles east of Topeka on Highway
Forty. Of course the children told the tale orally more than once [and] also
made it into a blackboard reading lesson, which they knew by heart. In their
very best printing and handwriting, they copied their story as a permanent
record into their little booklet called, Social Studies -- True Stories of the
Pioneers.
Kansas State Historical Society
Manuscript Department
