The story of “Grandpa’s Sled and the Pig” told in Little House in the Big Woods is a popular one. It’s interesting how stories about naughty children are so much more fun than stories about well-behaved ones.

But the story has puzzled me for a very long time — ever since I first became interested in doing Ingalls genealogy. You see, if my records are correct, I know who Grandpa is — but who are James and George?

Landsford — Pa’s father,  Laura’s Grandpa — was the youngest son of Samuel and Margaret Ingalls, born in 1812. His older brothers? Samuel Worthen, born in 1808.  John W, born in 1806. Benjamin, 1804. Aaron, 1802. Hiram M, 1800.  James, 1798. And Daniel, 1796.

We have a James, yes… but James is 14 years older than Grandpa.  Is it realistic to imagine a boy of that age — even if Landsford is as young as 5 or 6 years old in the story, that still makes James 19 or 20, a full grown man — sneaking out on Sunday afternoon to play with a sled and being whipped by his father? And which of these brothers, if any, might be our George?

It would make logical sense that if such an event occurred, it would have been the youngest three boys — John, Samuel, and Landsford. If these three boys were indeed the three brothers of Pa’s story, if Landsford was around 6 years old (we aren’t given any indicator of his age in the story, so I’m just choosing an age for reference), that would make Samuel 10 and John 12. That seems reasonable, doesn’ t it?  Can’t you easily imagine the three boys being 12, 10, and 6?  Or 14, 12, and 8?  The two older boys would be old enough to know how to make a sled, yet young enough to enjoy it.

But if our boys are John and Samuel, why does the story say James and George? Were the names changed? I can understand if the boys had a name like Landsford, why Laura might want to change it. But John and Samuel are every bit as ordinary as James and George, so why change them?

Perhaps Laura didn’t remember the names of the boys, so she made some up? That’s certainly possible, although with the names repeated in sequence so many times, one would think that if she remembered Pa telling the story, she would remember the names he used.

What about earlier manuscripts? Might that give us a clue as to their identities? But even in the earliest known version of Pioneer Girl, which preceded the Little House series and gives it its framework, the names James and George are used for Grandpa’s brothers in the telling of this story.

I admit, this is one question I simply can’t answer, and may never have an answer for. What do you think? Which of Grandpa’s brothers do you think are the characters that belong to the story?  Could it truly be James, despite his age? Might one of the other boys have the middle name of George, and gone by that name? Could there have been another son that has eluded genealogists? Or are the names invented for the story? Let’s hear your thoughts.

Lately, I’ve been thinking about Samuel Worthen Ingalls. Laura’s great-grandfather.

He interests me because he is the one ancestor Laura never met who makes it into one of her books as a minor character. As I wonder what kind of man he was, Garth Williams’ depiction of him flashes into my mind’s eye. You know the one — he’s leaned back in his chair asleep, his Bible resting open in his lap, while his three errant sons tiptoe out the door to try out their new sled on this forbidden Sunday afternoon.

Yes, that man — Grandpa’s father in the story “Grandpa’s Sled and the Pig” from Little House in the Big Woods — was Samuel Ingalls.

Born in Sandown, New Hampshire, on July 11, 1771, Samuel Ingalls married Margaret Delano in 1793 and moved to Quebec around 1800. Samuel and Margaret had ten children, the youngest being Landsford, Laura’s Grandpa, born in 1812. He returned to the United States shortly afterward, where he served in the War of 1812. He then settled in Cuba, New York, where his grandson Charles (Laura’s Pa) would be born in 1836. Samuel died on February 15, 1841, and is buried at the Maple Lawn Cemetery in Bolivar, New York.

But there’s much more to Samuel than this mere recitation of genealogical facts. You see, in 1809, Samuel Ingalls had a dream. A spiritual vision of future destruction of the wicked.

I think about the man who had this dream… and felt it important enough to write down and spread the message to others. And then I think about the way that this same man enforced a religious upbringing for his family, as told in the story that was passed down to Laura, who recorded it for all of us. A man who had rigid rules for what could and could not be done on a Sunday; a man who invested his time into the study of Scripture; a man who ensured that his children learn the catechisms that would teach them the doctrines of their religion.

And I wonder just how much this dream might have had to do with the strict honoring of Sundays in this family.

But that’s not the only thing about Samuel Ingalls that makes me wonder. You see, when one thinks of the gift for writing that Laura Ingalls Wilder possessed, and especially when one realizes that her daughter, Rose Wilder Lane, had this same gift, it makes one wonder just where this gift came from. One might expect it came from Caroline Quiner Ingalls, the educated refined schoolteacher Laura describes her as. And perhaps it did.

But perhaps the gift came from the Ingalls line. For Laura’s great-grandfather, Samuel Ingalls, wrote more than just his dream. In 1825, he wrote and published a small book, Rhymes of an Unlearned Poet.

So that’s why I’ve been thinking about Samuel Ingalls. Picturing Grandpa’s father in the book… piecing together what bits of information I can find about the man that he was.  And wondering… wondering just how much of what made Laura who she was, was handed down to her from her great-grandfather.