The first mill erected in the township was by Frederick Sager, who settled on Darby Creek in the early years of 1800.  Before this mill was erected, the settlers had to use a pestle

WILLIAM B. LAUGHEAD
96th O. V. I.

stone mortar, the same as those in use by the Indians.  In this manner they would mash the corn and make coarse meal and hominy.  At intervals they would place a wooden pack-saddle on the back of a strong horse and load it up with sacks of shelled corn.  The pioneer would mount his hunting horse and start on a long and tedious journey to Lancaster or Chillicothe, followed by the packhorse.  This trip would consume several days and his return was anxiously awaited by the family and neighbors, as he would not only bring the precious mal, but the capacious leather saddle bags would be filled to full capacity with newspapers and other reading matter, which would be liberally distributed among the settlers.
     The site of the old mill erected by Frederick Sager is just above the bridge on the California and Plain City Road, on the east bank near the farm of Samuel H. Ruehlen. the dam was built of logs and brush and this work was very largely done through the volunteer assistance of the settlers.  The building was erected in the same manner, as they were all intensely interested in this new enterprise.
     The first burrs for this mill were chiseled out of a boulder that Mr. Sager found on the farm of John Taylor.  After weeks of tedious work the boulder was split open and the stone dressed ready for use.  As soon as the mill was in running order, there was a great rush by the pioneers and also by the Indians, and they came both on foot and horseback from many miles around with their sacks of corn.
     For a few years he only ground corn, but there was soon a demand for flour, as the farmers began to raise wheat, and he installed a flouring bolt.  For many years the bolting was done by hand.  During the dry season the mill could run but little, as there was not sufficient water, but when the creek was not frozen in the winter and spring months, it was a very busy place, as farmers came with their grain from great distances, and when the water power was sufficient the mill ran day and night.
     Mr. Sager also erected the first sawmill in the township attached to his grist mill and run by the same water, thus furnishing the first boards and sawed lumber in the cabins.  Before that date the floors and doors were made of puncheons split out of timber and smoothed by a drawing knife and adz.  Mr. F. Heminway Mill" for many years and until it was finally abandoned for want of water power.
     The Kahler boys erected a sawmill along in the fifties on Robinsons Run, just above the bridge on the Plain City and California Road, which was run by water power and was the last mill in the township run by water.  They also erected a grist mill near the same site run by steam power, which they operated successfully for a number of years.
     The above described are the only grist ills that were ever erected in the township, although some of the sawmills have had burrs attached for grinding corn. 
     Many times a boy sent to the mill horseback on a sack of corn would have to wait all day for his grist.  If the fishing was good he did not object, as he always took his hook and line along.  The miller did not exchange meal and flour for corn and wheat, as was the custom in later years, but took tool out of the grain - he did not have facilities for weighing the grain and generally took the farmer's word for the amount, that the proper toll could be taken out for grinding.
     An anecdote is related of one shrewd farmer who usually tried to get the best  part of a bargain with his neighbors.  Like the Irishman, he thought it was better to "Chate than to be chated."  The story is told that he went to the ill one time with his grain and informed the miller that he had two bushels and a half in his sack.  After the toll was taken out, he winked at one of his neighbors and said that he had "two bushels and a half and a peck and a toll dish full."  The miller having taken out a toll dish, the sly old farmer got one peck ground free. 
     A doggerel poem written by a swag was set to music and sung with much glee by the old pioneers at some of their convivial gatherings.

THE OLD MILLER'S WILL.
"There was an old man lived all alone,
He had three sons, big men grown,
And he was about to make his will
All he had was a wet weather mill.

Chorus:
To my hi fal lal, diadle I do

He called unto his youngest son,
Say son, O! son, my life is run,
And if I to you the mill do make,
Pray what is the toll you intend to take?

First son:
Dad, O! Dad, my name is Breck
And out of a bushel I'll take a peck;
And if a fortune I can make,
That is the toll I intend to take.

You ain't the boy, the old man said,
You ain't the boy that's learned my trade
And unto you the mill I won't give,
For by such toll, no man can live.

Second son:
Dad, O! Dad, my name is Ralph,
And out of a bushel I'll take half;
If a fortune I can make
That is the toll that I will take.

Third Son -
Father, Father, my name is Paul,
And out of a bushel, I'll take all;
If a fortune I do lack,
Will keep the toll and swear to the sack.

You are the boy, the old miller said,
You are the boy that's learned my trade,
Unto you the mill I give,
For by such toll a miller can live.

The old lady throwed up her hands and cried,
The old miller rolled up his eyes and died;
He died, and died without a will
And the old lady got the mill

To my hi fal lal, diadle I da."

POTTERIES.

     Isaac Mason started the first pottery in Jerome Township.  His little plant and located on the old Sager farm, on the east bank of Darby Creek, afterward known as the T. T. Kilbury farm, which he operated for a number of years.

TANNERIES

     In the early days the tanning business was quite extensively carried on in the township.  William McCune operated a tan yard for many years, just over the line in the township, near Plain City.  In those days, in the spring when the sap was coming up, many large white oak trees were cut down and the bark peeled for tanning purposes, and it was always a ready sale on the market.  Unless the trees were needed for rail timber, they were frequently allowed to rot.
     The tan yard of Asa Converse, located on his farm just west of the David Moss farm on the California and Unionville Road, was perhaps the most extensive tannery of those days.  In addition to the tanning business, he ran a boot and shoe manufacturing and repair shop.  He employed a number of shoemakers during the winter season, and did quite a large and profitable business.
     Mr. Arthur Collier for a number of years carried on the tanning business in Jerome.  The country tan yard was so convenient for farmers in either selling hides or having them tanned for their own use, but is now a business of the past and of which the younger generation has little knowledge, as it is largely concentrated in the cities.

ASHERIES.

     Asheries for the manufacture of black salts and sometimes saleratus, were quite common.  The proprietors had wagons running all over the country buying up the ashes saved by the housewives, or by the boys in the springtime when burning logs in the clearing, and it was quite a source of revenue.
     Kibourne and Amos Beach operated quite an extensive ashery in the village of Jerome for many years.  Peter Beaver was also engaged in that business at New California, but these industries are all abandoned, although in the early days the business was quite profitable.

COOPERAGE.

     The manufacture of barrels was engaged in quite extensively in the township by a number of citizens.  The McCampbell brothers, John, Joseph, Andrew and Charles, were all coopers by trade, and engaged in that business on the farms during the winter season.  Robert b. Curry, John Oliver, James and William Woodburn were also engaged in that line.  They made sugar barrels, flour barrels and pork barrels, many of which were disposed of in the neighborhood, but the bulk of them were hauled to Columbus.  They had great high racks on heavy wagons which were used to transport the barrels to market, and merchandise of all kinds was brought back in return.  The loads were immense, and while I have no definite knowledge as to the number of flour barrels that could be loaded in one of those wagons, it seems to me that fifty would be a safe guess.
     Tradesman of all kinds were in the country, and there was scarcely a farmer's family that did not have some member who could do mechanical work, either as shoemaker, harness maker or a wood worker.  Nelson Cone was, perhaps, the best all-round mechanic along Sugar Run.  He manufactured boots and shoes, harness and saddles.  He was also a wood worker and made sleds, ox yokes, plow stocks and all kinds of farm implements.
     Among the shoemakers were Perry Buck, the Fleck boys, David Beard, and some of the Germans, a Mr. Myers and others.  George Ruehlen, who arrived in Jerome Township direct from Germany, along in the fifties, was an expert workman and erected the first up-to-date cider mill and press in the township.  He also operated a sawmill for a number of years.
     Nearly every farmer had a good set of tools and made and repaired all kinds of farm implements himself, instead of running to town and to the shop of a carpenter or blacksmith every time it was necessary to have a nail driven or a board sawed.  They were especially expert in the manufacture of ax handles out of tough hickory timber, so much in use those days.
     The fathers always took a great deal of pains to instruct their boys in the use and care of tools.  There was one kind of work along this line that did not appeal to the farmer boy particularly, and that was filing a cross-cut saw.  He was well aware that getting the old saw out, in company with a rat-tail file, meant hard work as soon as the saw was sharpened.
     If there was one kind of labor harder than any other on a farm, it was for a boy to tackle a saw log about four feet in diameter with a cross-cut saw, for the other fellow was sure to "lay down" on the saw.  Did you ever, my old farmer boy friend - now three score and ten - ever know it to be otherwise?  I think not.