EDITOR’S NOTE: This is part of a weekly series on our region’s history coordinated by the Trumbull County Historical Society.

These excerpts from the reminiscences of Mrs. Phebe l. Marvin Sutliff, written in 1906, take place in 1830 when she was 8 years old and her family had just moved to Bazetta. They settled on land that now includes Bazetta Park and much of the south end of Mosquito Lake.

“My first remembrances when a little girl were the bears and wolves, and snakes of all kinds; the bobcat was the worst of all.

“We had a dog named ‘Watch.’ He was a big fella, brought from old Connecticut. When I got old enough to go to school, he would go with us as a protection from the wild beasts.

“When I was 8 years old, my mother wanted a corn broom. It was at harvest time; father could not spare a boy to go 5 miles to Warren for a broom. (The Indians had made mother splinter brooms.) I asked father if I might go, as I could ride a horse as well as the boys. He said I might, but I must not get off the horse, going or coming, as the woods were full of wild animals. I told him I would not get off the horse, and I started on the 5-mile ride.

“When I got to a place called Mud Run, where big logs had been rolled in so people could drive over the mud and water, I saw a little black dog sitting on the bridge. I rode as fast as I could to the store, thinking all the way that I did not think father would mind if I got off the horse, and got the little bright-eyed dog, for our old Connecticut dog was so old and cross. I wanted this dog, for I did not like Watch. Mr. Smith told father I was in such a hurry, that after he tied the broom to the saddle, I started as fast as I could for home. My little dog was gone; I had to whip the horse to get him by the bridge.

“When I got home, my father saw that I was troubled about something. He put his hand on my shoulder and said, ‘Did my little girl mind her papa and not get off the horse?’ I told him I wanted to. He asked, ‘What for?’ I told him I saw such a pretty black dog with such bright eyes that I wanted it, because old Watch was so cross, I did not like him. My father put his hand on my shoulder and said, ‘That was not a little dog, but a little cub bear, and its mother was in the bushes watching her cub. That was why the horse was afraid, for she saw the mother bear in the bushes watching you.’ If I had gotten off the horse, she would have eaten me up, and then father would not have had any little girl to come home to mama and papa.

“I had a long cry about it. As it was the custom of my mother to pray with her little children when she put them to bed, as she knelt beside the bed, with my hand in hers; she prayed, thanking the Lord, that he had taken the little cub away that I should not disobey my earthly father, and that my Heavenly Father should bring her little girl safely back to the parental home. Although so young, my mother’s prayer made a great impression on my mind.”

You can learn more at www.CortlandOhioHistory.org or visit the Cortland Opera House Friday afternoons from 1 to 3 p.m.