--_Philip D. Armour_

[Illustration: PHILIP D. ARMOUR]

Philip D. Armour was born on May Sixteenth, Eighteen Hundred Thirty-two,
near the little village of Stockbridge, New York. He died at Chicago,
January Sixth, Nineteen Hundred One. The farm owned by his father was
right on the line between Madison and Oneida Counties. The boys used to
make a scratch in the road and dare the boys from Madison to come across
into Oneida. The Armour farm adjoined the land of the famous Oneida
Community, where was worked out one of the most famous social
experiments ever attempted in the history of civilization. However, the
Armour family constituted a little community of its own, and was never
induced to abandon family life for the group. Yet, for John Humphrey
Noyes, Danforth Armour always had great respect. But he was philosopher
enough to know that one generation would wind up the scheme, for the
young would all desert, secrete millinery, and mate as men and young
maidens have done since time began. "Oneida is for those whose dream did
not come true--mine has," he said.

The Armours of Stockbridge traced a pedigree to Jean Armour, of Ayr,
brown as a berry, pink and twenty, sweet and thrifty, beloved of Bobbie
Burns.

The father of Philip was Danforth Armour, and the father of Danforth
Armour was James Armour, Puritan, who emigrated from the North of
Ireland. James settled in Connecticut and fortified his Scotch-Irish
virtues with a goodly mixture of the New England genius for hard work,
economy and religion. His grandfather had fought side by side with
Oliver Cromwell and had gone into battle with that doughty hero singing
the songs of Zion. He was a Congregationalist by prenatal influence. And
I need not here explain that the love of freedom found form in
Congregationalism, a religious denomination without a pope and without a
bishop, where one congregation was never dictated to nor ruled by any
other. Each congregation was complete in itself--or was supposed to be.

This love of liberty was the direct inheritance of James Armour. It
descended to Danforth Armour, and by him was passed along to Philip
Danforth Armour. All of these men had a very sturdy pride of ancestry,
masked by modesty, which oft reiterated: "Oh, pedigree is nothing--it
all lies in the man. You do or else you don't. To your quilting,
girls--to your quilting!"

When Nancy Brooks was beloved by Danforth Armour the F