Small businesses are everywhere. From baked goods to products crafted from goat cheese, online virtual assistant work to content writing, the types of small businesses that entrepreneurs can run abound. Over the past few months, I’ve shared some Little House-inspired thoughts on legacies and children, so the topic of pioneer businesses and entrepreneurs seemed a natural one.

The entrepreneurial spirit is one piece of the legacy of Little House and the pioneers that has endured. Our country was founded by men and women who struck out and created a path for others to follow. I’d like to introduce you to two of the entrepreneurs that Almanzo Wilder remembered from his childhood days growing up on the family farm in New York—the tin peddler and the cobbler.

When Nick Brown, the tin peddler, arrived with his white horse and bright red cart, every member of the Wilder family rushed out to greet him. Before joining the Wilders for supper, Mr. Brown cared for the needs of his horse, an action that brought him much esteem in the eyes of young Almanzo.

After supper, Mr. Brown began his customary routine—spinning tales, singing songs, and sharing news from far and near. He could tell more stories and sing more songs than anyone Almanzo or his father had ever seen.

The next day, Mr. Brown opened the doors of his bright red cart and invited Almanzo’s mother to take a look. According to Farmer Boy:

Inside that cart was everything ever made of tin. On shelves along the walls were nests of bright tin pails, and pans, and basins, cake-pans, pie-pans, bread-pans and dishpans. Overhead dangled cups and dippers, skimmers and strainers, steamers, colanders, and graters. There were tin horns, tin whistles, toy tin dishes and patty-pans, there were all kinds of little animals made of tin and brightly painted.¹

Every item had been carefully crafted with quality materials and skillfully soldered to endure almost daily use. After a long round of bartering with Almanzo’s savvy mother, a deal was reached and a trade was made. Before he left, Mr. Brown pulled a few more special items from the cart and presented them to Almanzo and his two sisters as gifts.

With the reins in his hands, Mr. Brown drove away, whistling a tune as he went. That day, he left them with more than new dishes and pans in their cupboards. He left them with laughter and stories, songs and pleasant memories, and the warmth of a friend’s company in their hearts.

The second entrepreneur who stood out in Almanzo’s memory was a cobbler whose name Laura Ingalls Wilder did not record in her books. She tells of the time when a delay in the cobbler’s arrival caused not only concern but hardship as well. With the energy and passion with which some of us approach shoe shopping today, it may seem hard to imagine a time when you purchased new shoes only once a year, no matter when the pair you were wearing wore out. Royal’s feet had grown, but last year’s boots had not. Royal had cut a slit in them, the entire way around, so that they would fit. Almanzo’s moccasins were worn out, and there was nothing either of them could do to keep the cold weather from making their feet ache as they waited.  When the cobbler finally did arrive, three weeks late, he explained the reason for the delay: One family had delayed him because they had asked him to make shoes for a wedding.

At Almanzo’s house, the cobbler got right to work, telling jokes and looking through the hides that Almanzo’s father had tanned the previous year. After dinner, Almanzo got the biggest surprise of the cobbler’s visit—Almanzo’s father asked the cobbler to make Almanzo a pair of boots! He was finally old enough to wear boots—as Father and Royal did—and no longer had to wear boyish moccasins.

Making a pair of boots was a long and tedious procedure. Shoe pegs had to be fashioned from exactly the right kind of wood, Almanzo’s feet had to be measured in every direction, soles had to be cut, and thread had to be waxed. Only then could the cobbler begin sewing together the boots. Every stitch required holes that had been punched with an awl, and then the waxed thread had to be pulled tightly through those holes. The finished product was a seam the cobbler could be proud of. The cobbler boasted: “Your feet won’t get damp in my boots, even if you go wading in them. I never sewed a seam yet that wouldn’t hold water.”²

Life as an entrepreneur today is far different than it was in Almanzo’s day. Topics such as liability insurance, Social Security taxes, and workers’ compensation were far from the minds of the tin peddler and the cobbler as they struck out to build businesses for themselves. They never had to deal with things such as 401k’s and downsizing. Nevertheless, they experienced many of the same struggles that modern entrepreneurs still face today. Whether you haul your living behind you in a tin peddler’s wagon or in a trailer behind a Peterbilt, a mechanical problem or an accident can mean the end of your job and your livelihood. Mechanics and cobblers alike depend on the health and strength of their hands to do the skilled work required. An injury or arthritis could bring either way of life to an end.

Why do modern-day entrepreneurs press on? I think many persevere for the same reason that pioneer entrepreneurs did—the opportunity to pass on a legacy to their children. Indeed, it is a legacy that all who labor can leave behind: the legacy of a job well done. The tin peddler and the cobbler shared their dependable products, friendship, and joyful hearts with the Wilders, and those are things that an entrepreneur of any age should be proud to leave behind.

Endnotes:

1. Farmer Boy by Laura Ingalls Wilder. A Harper Trophy Book, Harper & Row Publishers, 1971.
2. Ibid.

If you’d like to read the other posts in this series, you can find them below. Enjoy!

• Legacies and Children, Part One
• Legacies and Children, Part Two: Pioneer Clothing