pages 106-117

Once in a while I could hear her moving about for the kitchen was at the foot of the stairs. My sister by now deep in slumber was not assisting me in going to sleep. Turning over for the third and last time, I was practically in dreamland when I heard the rattle of a wagon approaching. Through the open upstairs window I distinctly heard my father say, “ho” then call mother. The voice a bit distressed so I slipped out of bed and into a house coat and to the foot of the stairs. Mother helped him through the door. He was holding one foot and hopping with the other. She got him seated and put his foot in a pan of hot water.
By that time Jim had come out to help. “If you’ll just take care of the horses, Jim,” said father. “Sure,” Jim replied as he started out the door. I went along to help. When we came back, my sister was downstairs also and father was telling how it had happened. “I had come through the last gate. I put my foot on the front wheel to get in and about that time the horses started up. My foot slipped off in front of the wheel and the wheel rolled over it,” he said. Then turning to mother said, “I am sure there are some broken bones, what do you think?” Mother lifted the foot from the hot water feeling for broken bones. She too thought there were. So Jim hunted for splints, while mother tore strips from a sheet and soon the foot was in splints and wrapped. After father had eaten, Jim and mother assisted him up stairs to bed.
Jim was up early the next morning, September 10. This was my twentieth birthday. When I awoke mother was preparing breakfast. So I arose and went down to help. I was on the last step with my hand on the bannister when Jim came through the kitchen door. His hands were filled with the most beautiful bouquet of wild flowers. Some had lily like leaves with bunches of red berries in the shape of clusters of grapes. And said as he came toward me, “Look what I have and it’s all for you. I’ve been walking along Shirley Creek and through the wild cherry orchard. I picked these. They are for your birthday.” He then put them in my hand. I was so pleased and surprised at his gesture.
Mother by then had a delicious breakfast ready for all. Hot biscuits, oatmeal, eggs, sausage, strawberry jam, coffee, and cream. Everyone was happy. Father came down unassisted by holding to the bannister and took his place at the head of the table to return thanks. For we were all glad father’s accident was no worse. And was partially able to get around.
After breakfast, Jim and I went to the wild cherry orchard. There
he sawed off two limbs just right to be made into crutches. I carried
one and he the other. Then helped father to saw them the right
length for crutches. Then a small block in between the split sides to
hold them apart for a hand hold. With a soft cloth at the top for an arm
rest. I can see father now as he put them under his arms and started “Now I can get around.” Soon out in the yard and most anyplace he wanted to go and anxious to show us around.
We girls usually played the piano after breakfast but It was forgotten that morning. Father on his crutches with mother at his side. Jim and we girls who had been so blue the night before, were enjoying the scenery of this lonely valley. The little creek too seemed forever to rush madly on without a slow up. It tumbled on and on over rocks and pebbles to its end somewhere on the flats below.
Thus we were engaged in conversation when two cowboys came riding by. Seeing my father was hurt and the wagon unloaded, they offered to assist. The task soon accomplished one of the boys insisted we play for them. They must have spread the news around for before the day was over others came to visit and welcome us to this ranching cattle country. Some of the folks said as they prepared to leave after some hours of visiting, “We moved to this country some years ago and figured it would be mighty lonely. But neighbors came from miles around to visit, especially newcomers.” Soon we began to move the furniture about and by evening had most everything in place. Mother and father had put the curtains up and the carpets down the week before.
As evening drew near, mother began to prepare the evening meal. My sister was playing one of the late hits that we had bought before leaving Portland. Jim joined in the singing too for it was a pretty number. So I set the table while mother put the finishing touches to the supper. A good cook could fix a tasty meal with whatever she had. My father was resting while he waited. The crutches had made his arms tired and sore.
So when supper was over the dishes washed and put away, Jim said, “Let’s ride down to the post office and pick up the mail. I said. “Oh, it isn’t likely there’ll be any unless it’s for father but It’ll be fun,” I said. So Jim went out to saddle the two horses while I dressed for the occasion. Assisting me in the saddle we were off. The horses now on a gallop, but stopped short when we came to the first gate. Jim was off before his horse stopped. And on again the same way. We sailed along lightly over another eighty and there was the other gate. “Well this is it,” Jim said and we were off on a long gallop toward Sublett.
The moon had come up over the mountain peak and was shining brightly on us the last mile. The brightness of the moon threw the shadow of a telephone pole across the road. This brought my horse from a fast gallop to a dead stop. Throwing me against the saddle horn and almost over the horse’s head. We were riding so close that Jim grabbed my arm saying, “Are you hurt? That was a close call.”
“No, I’m just a little scared and shaken up,” was my reply.
We started on slowly for there were several more telephone poles making shadows. And now only a short distance from the post office. A small store with the office in the back. Lights were on in the home but none in the store. So Jim knocked at the door. The owner, a white haired elderly man, came out and said he would look and see if we had any. He finally came back stating there wasn’t any. Then said as we turned to go, “You be the folks what moved in over on Shirley Creek.” I said we were. “A couple of cowboys that had been over that way looking up some of our cattle dropped in today. They were telling everyone that you had a piano and that you young ladies could play and sing. Mother and I like that.” As we turned to go I said, “You and your wife be sure to come over sometime.”
We rode slowly for awhile and then started out on a gallop. I whipped up trying to outrun Jim. Finally he said, “Let’s slow down. It’s too nice a night to hurry home.” Thinking his tone of voice sounded a bit loving I kept my horse a few paces ahead and when quite close to home, he rode up close saying he would like to give me a kiss for my birthday. To this I urged my horse on a little faster as I replied, “But we are not engaged yet.” He said, “I just thought I’d ask.” We put our horses into a gallop and were soon home.
Hearing the hoof beats, mother came out as we rode up saying, “I wondered who was coming?” She went back in the house and I waited for Jim to unsaddle and put the horses away. Then went in together. Father was reading as usual and Wilhelmina was deep in a book while mother sat doing some mending. Then we all sat and talked for some moments before retiring.
The next morning Jim went back to Rupert. We waved him off as he drove down the road and out of the canyon. I watched as he went up over the last raise and headed into the flats below. Two days later I received a letter telling of the wonderful time he had had in our home. And how he had missed me. Said he loved the little valley that we had chose for our home and planned to be back soon.
Days went on as usual and each day this little valley home became more dear and close to our hearts. We did not lack for company. The two cowboys had done their work well. In that country everyone seemed glad to welcome and visit newcomers. So we were no exception. The two cowboys made excuses to come time and again. And many times they would enjoy one of my mother’s good dinners. Other boys and girls too came and we were looked upon as something a little exceptional since we had come from a big city, well raised and wore nice clothes.
About the first week of October Jim came again. I watched most of the afternoon for his horse and buggy to come over the top of the hill. Finally my watching paid off. I saw him open and come through the two gates. In no time he was in the yard, jumping out of the buggy. He couldn’t seem to greet me fast enough. Beauty covered with sweat and flakes of dust had made the trip much faster than when he brought us. Jim rubbed her down good and put a blanket over her until she cooled down.
He then wanted to know how I had taken up my time since he had been gone. I told him I had climbed hills found pretty rocks and picked wild flowers, beside gazing toward Rupert. He asked if it was because of him. I said maybe but not especially. Squeezing my hand hard we went into the house.
Everyone was glad to see him. Since he was staying for a week Mother thought it would be a good idea to give a party for my sister and I so mother had one of the cowboys, a rancher’s son and a nice looking fellow who always rode such beautiful horses, to invite some of the boys and girls that he knew to the party. It couldn’t have been a nicer affair. Horses, buggies, and saddle horses were parked all around the yard. Father hung up several lanterns for light. We played house games of all kinds. This young man tried to be near me at all times, especially when we played games like pass the dollar. All were in a ring and everyone tried guessing who had the dollar. When the one with the dollar was about to be guessed he would try to pass it to someone else without being seen. Everyone liked playing the different games.
Father had gotten the ice for making the ice cream a little higher up in the mountains where Shirley Creek froze at the edges at night. Mother had also made several cakes and jello. The party broke up after a lot of singing and playing the piano by us and others in the group. Mother thought it worthwhile by the way the young people enjoyed themselves, even though it was past midnight. When the last of the young folks rode away, and thanked mother for the good time.
The following week there was a box social and square dance at the school house. I wrote Jim and asked him if he could come again that soon. A letter came back pronto, as we wrote each other almost every day, stating it would be the first week in November before he could come again. He had too many farm chores and the folks he boarded with objected to doing his chores again that soon after being gone already for a week. I wrote back and told him that my sister and I would be going. One of the young men a tall well built, dark haired, good looking young fellow had asked my sister.
So one morning a few days before the affair the cowboy came over and brought me a letter from Jim. After talking to my folks for a while he asked if I would go to the box social with him. I thought for a while and said, “Just this once.” “Oh, come now,” he said, “you are not that much in love with that fellow.” To that I gave no answer. There was hardly a day that he didn’t come by while rounding up and branding cattle that fall just above our place. They would always butcher a beef for the chuck wagon crew and when they did they would bring us a nice piece of fresh beef. Sometimes they brought the liver and heart too.
And so the night of the box social arrived. My friend arrived with a team of matched black horses hitched to a nearly new buggy. Not long after he arrived my sister’s friend drove up. Wilhelmina and I with mother’s help had worked hard to fix and fill our boxes. It was quite an affair. A fellow got up and auctioned the girl’s boxes off. The fellow that bid the highest got the box and the girl that brought it would eat its contents together. They could really run it up on a fellow who wanted a certain girl’s box. Well my cowboy got my box and my sister’s friend got hers. The price was run up quite a bit on them though.
After the box lunches were eaten some fellows played and everyone square danced. At somewhat of a late hour, knowing our folks didn’t allow us to be out too late, we asked our escorts to take us home before the dance was over. On the way home my friend offered me the nicest horse with saddle and bridle to ride if I would ride with him sometime. Also the hay to feed the horse. I would not accept but said I would see.
On arriving home he was very courteous in helping me out of the buggy. And accompanied me into the house. Here he talked to my folks and me for sometime. Finally Wilhelmina arrived and we continued to talk awhile longer whereupon my friend asked my folks if he might come to see me and take me places. Mother and father answered that they didn’t mind. It was for me to decide but they wanted me in good company at all times.
We had thought that winter would be dull and dreary far from the beaten sidewalks of a large city. It was not so. Young people came often and we went to many entertainments. Jim’s letters came almost everyday and my cowboy friend came most everyday. Only friendly visits though.
The days still seemed to pass as usual. Jim had mentioned something about liking to have a place out there. My brother’s place joined my folk’s place. So my father began to look around for Jim. Finally finding one an eighty below theirs, I wrote and told Jim about it. And when he came again the first week of November, he and my father looked it over and thought it would be just what he would want. This time he had come to stay a week. The twelfth of November, 1912 was a lovely day in the valley. And after dinner Jim
had gone down to Shirley Creek with a grubbing hoe and was digging out and fixing a place where mother could cool the milk. I walked down to see what he was doing. After standing there and talking for some time, he turned around, looked straight at me, and said, “will you marry me and be my wife?” Somewhat shocked and I didn’t know just what to say for my heart was working faster than at anytime in ,my life. And not sure yet I was ready to marry and settle down. I stood there thinking while he continued to stand there looking at me with the grubbing hoe, still in his hand. Finally I said “Yes,” almost against my better judgment for I wasn’t quite sure.
Jim grabbed me by the arm and we were off like a flash for the house. He encountered my mother first and asked her if he could have me. My mother said, “You are a fine young man, Jim. I believe you’ll make Annie a good husband.” Then my sister. Her reply was, “Take her, she’s no good to me.” He then hunted up my father out in the yard and asked him. “Jim,” he said, “you are a good man. All I ask is that you be good to her and provide her with the kind of a home and other things you can afford.” We didn’t spread the news around. Jim and I thought we would like to keep it to ourselves for awhile at least. He squeezed my hand warmly as he went to bed in the down stairs bedroom and I upstairs to my room. Mother and father were ready to retire also. My sister sat reading for awhile longer.
It had been for me an exciting day. I did not go to sleep right off. I lay thinking if what I had done was right. I turned several times. When my sister came to bed but before I knew it, I had drifted off to sleep and did not awaken until I heard Jim talking to my folks in the kitchen below as mother prepared the breakfast. I knew then I had overslept. So arose quickly, washing my face, combed my hair, cleaned my teeth, put on a clean pretty house dress, and came down stairs when Jim said, “Look who’s coming she’s fresh as a daisy this morning.” I immediately went about setting the table and had it about finished when my sister came down. She then went in and played a fast little wake up song on the piano. Soon she and Jim were singing it. While I finished helping mother put the breakfast on. Father was out doing the chores and when he came in he told Jim he had fed his horses also. Jim thanked him. When we sat down to the table father asked Jim to return thanks.
So along in the day Jim hitched the team to the spring wagon and he and father were off to Malta about thirty miles away to see about and to file claim on the one hundred and sixty acres, an eighty west of our home place. I watched them drive out of the valley. Then I settled myself with things I planned to do that day. In that way time would go faster. Jim and father did not return until after dark. I was so busy helping mother with the evening meal, we did not know they were there until father walked in the back door. I went outside to see where Jim was. He was just unhooking the neck yoke. He saw me first. He dropped what he was doing and grabbed me. He hugged and kissed me like he was making up for lost time. That was my first kiss and hug in all the months we had gone together. Finally he said, “You know what we are going to get that 160 acres just below your folks place. That s fine, I said. I helped him to unhitch and feed the horses. We walked to the house with our arms around each other for it was all settled now. The kiss and the hug cleared my brains of its confused state. My heart knew the answer, “yes,” I had given the day before was the right answer and we were both happy.
That evening was spent planning with my father the kind of house We wanted. I said I wanted it just like this one. Mother liked the large front room especially when we had a lot of company or parties. I liked the arrangement of the kitchen, downstairs bedroom
and the two rooms upstairs. Father said when spring comes there’ll be wire and post to be gotten to fence with. You’ll want to get some ground cleared and in crops right away. Maybe not until fall wheat though. Fall wheat was always put in in the fall and harvested the next August.
That week-end before Jim went back they were having another box social at the school house. Jim, my sister and I went. She had a date but declined as she had on several other occasions. She seemed to be looking for someone that would be Sidney’s double in looks qualifications and so on. That was pretty hard to do. I sometimes thought that love had died within her for the only one, she had so abruptly quit writing because he wanted to come west and take her back.
At these box socials the fellows were sometimes tricked. If you wanted a certain fellow to get your box, you marked it with a certain color of ribbon, or certain color of box, a small blue tag, or other things so he would be able to tell which was his girl’s box. If you got a chance you showed it to him the box ahead of time. Those boxes filled with everything good to eat were wrapped and tied prettier than a Christmas package. Some didn’t care who got their box or who they ate with. If though you wanted a certain fellow, you sometimes had to do a little extra fixing so he’d know it.
It was hard at times to tell whose box was whose, especially if you were sitting in the back of the room. I heard a girl say, “That’s my box.” Another said, “No, that’s my box.” Jim and I were sitting about middle way and we were pretty sure of my box. Next to me was a fellow I did not know very well and next to him was my cowboy friend. They seemed to know each other and were passing a box of chocolates back and forth. Then they passed it to me. I took one and the cowboy said, “don’t pass it to that guy,” meaning Jim. And finally the fellow did offer Jim one.
The auctioneer now was ready to start on the boxes and all eyes were looking toward him. He began, “Here it is. Isn’t it a beauty? What am I bid?” Bids went up, one, two and three dollars. Finally it stopped. “Am I not bid more?” he went on. Isn’t it a beauty? Come on now. A boy from the back of the room claimed it and the girl that owned it walked over to the boy and they sat down together. . The auctioneer continued. Finally my box came up. Jim knew it. He waited awhile, then began putting in a bid now and then. The cowboy caught on and started bidding also. Finally when he had run it up to seven dollars, the cowboy quit saying, “Let the poor guy have it.” Jim walked up to get it and pay for it. Then he came back to me. The boxes were going fast. Now, and they were urged to bid up a little faster.
My sister’s box was next. A handsome looking fellow from Malta got it by bidding eight dollars for it. Now the auctioneer was calling out lots of good eats in these boxes and by now everyone was getting hungry and wanting to eat. The auctioneer, a small jolly like fellow, had been to our home several times.
After all had eaten, the square dancing started. Jim and I didn’t dance so we watched for awhile and then slipped out and went home. My folks were still up waiting for us. Father was reading and mother was mending a pair of sox.
An hour or so passed before the young man brought my sister home. He came in and talked for some time. Said he was glad to have the pleasure of meeting all of us. He turned to Wilhelmina and said good night. He then asked when he could see her again. She walked to the door with him and said, “when you would like to come.” Thus he went out into the night and was gone.
My folks were impressed with this young man, but he just seemed to be another fellow to my sister.
The next morning father, Jim and I went to look over the land Jim had filed claim on. We drove around all over it. There was a lot of bench land. Good for raising wheat and Shirley Creek ran through it from the east border to the west. Bench land is ground high up next to the foothills and this usually gets rain when lower ground doesn’t because more rain followed the mountain ranges than in the flats. Here we drove around for some time. Took in the valleys and the spring that flowed freely from the ground on the north, and the cedar trees on the far northeast’ corner where the lovely sweet smelling white sand lilies blooms late in the summer. It was mid-November and a chill wind came up from the north as we turned to start for home fully satisfied and happy over the prospects of our ranch and the place where we would erect our home. We also chose the sight on our way back. We decided to put it on the low flat like valley next to Shirley Creek.
Jim whipped the horses up and soon were home. A delicious odor came from the kitchen when mother opened the door to welcome us. “Dinner is ready,” she said. We couldn’t seem to get there fast enough. Sister was putting the chairs up when we walked in. Mother was putting the food on the table. After dinner we sat visiting in the front room. We played the piano and sang. Jim sang with us. He had a good bass voice. And a handsome fellow when dressed in a nice blue suit, white shirt and blue tie and much classier look than some cowboys that came with their pretty horses, fine saddles, and bridles. They seemed to attract for the moment or the time being. Our folks had always taught us to lift ourselves up but never lower oneself was a household expression.
We sat up somewhat late that night visiting. Jim was to go back to Rupert in the morning as he had left the care of his stock to others long enough.
The chilly wind that had blown most of the day and night subsided toward morning. A cloudy haze filled the sky. The mountain peaks were already white with snow and a few flakes were falling in the valley.
When Jim was ready to leave he said he wished he didn’t have to go. We were closer, and meant ‘so much more to each other now. Turning to mother he said, “That fine breakfast will keep me feeling good all the way to Rupert.” He thanked my father for feeding his horses and to my sister he said, “Now be good.” With a wave of his hand he was off. I watched him as usual out of the lane. At the top of the hill he paused for a moment to wave as he always did. I waved too from the front room window where I watched but neither saw the other wave.
Over the hill now and out of sight heading for the flats covered with dead June grass and thistles that cattle sometimes wintered on. Returning again over that fifty mile trip he had come over some days before. He said in the letter he wrote; later, “I did not come back empty handed this time. I have you and the prospects of a ranch all so quickly.” I read it over time and again.
It was evening when I had received it. Our neighbors, who lived above us, brought the mail to us. They did this once in awhile. It was two miles to the post office and we didn’t go too often during the week. As I sat there trying to answer the letter, the howling cry of a coyote off on a distant hill continued to fill the night air. They seem to howl just before and after a storm. It was a wailing, distress call. For a moment I ceased my thinking to listen to his weird barking. At times it seemed as though he were only a few feet away. Father had bought mother some chickens to put in the chicken house he had built for her. That was probably an attraction for food was sometimes hard to find in the winter. I was getting sleepy but managed to finish the letter and tell him everything that had happened in the short time he had been gone. Somehow it seemed as If he had been gone for weeks.
My cowboy friend continued to come as did other young people. I think that was one of the happiest winters we had spent since we left our home in the south lands. Every time I said those words it brought back happy memories ..
For when we left Portland we failed to leave our forwarding address. If Frank wrote, which he probably did, the letters were returned to him. He no doubt wondered what ever happened to me.
For I never wrote to him after coming to Idaho. At times I wondered what had happened to him. That was all water under the bridge now for he was never anything more to me than a childhood sweetheart that never blossomed into anything more than friendship. He was someone just to have a good time with, as were the other boys I had gone with.
The days went by, some fast some slow. I played the piano and sang more than usual during the days that elapsed between Jim’s coming.
My sister went to another party to which I was asked also but I had an excuse. It had not gotten around that we were engaged. I hoped it wouldn’t for sometime yet. The following week began to take on an air of Thanksgiving. The aroma of fruit cake baking was all over the house. Mother was baking fruit cakes for Thanksgiving, Christmas, and New
Years. This was a custom in our home for as long as I could remember. I can see our cook, Old Alice, assisting mother when I was a small child with this task Mother allowed no one to make her fruit cakes. Fruit cake was my father’s favorite. He liked a slice with a cup of coffee before retiring at bed time. He would tell us how his mother in faraway Berlin, Germany made her fruit cakes and what an attraction it had for him as a boy. I went out to where mother was working and asked if I might help. She stopped, while stirring to say, “Your turn will come next week. There are other cakes to make and bake.”
It had snowed quite a lot for several days after Jim’s last visit. And looked as though winter had set in. Finally it let up and when a warm wind blew down the canyon. The snow was gone. It remained nice until Thanksgiving.
The next week I made six cakes. Mother had said I could make as many as I wanted to. There was burnt sugar, chocolate, white, yellow, spice, and marble cake. Mother was surprised that I would make so many. I told her I also wanted to learn how to bake bread. For Jim liked home baked bread. I did not attempt to make any until after Thanksgiving though.
Mother was a good bread baker. She would use a cake of yeast to make her first batch. After that she would save back a chunk of dough about the size of your fist each time she baked. She would put this in ajar, to be used for the next baking. When that time rolled around she would mix a tablespoon of flour into a cup of boiling potato water and then to that a cup of mashed potatoes. When it was cool enough she proceeded to work the piece of dough saved from the last baking into the potato mix. This would rise until light. She then added one cup of boiled milk with a rounded tablespoon of shortening. This was poured into the amount of liquid you wanted to make your dough with. Then the yeast and liquid all were put into a bowl and salt and sugar were added. Either a sponge, which she always made, or stiff dough could be made out of this. After being made into a stiff dough It was covered and set in a warm place to raise. Then it was worked down and let raise again. Then it was worked down and put into loaf pans. Talk about bread fit for a feast, that was it.
During the nice weather that ensued, my father took advantage of it and went higher up on Shirley Creek among the quaken aspen trees. Here he hauled down three loads of dead limbs and trees to add to the already big pile he had gotten out earlier in the fall. My mother went with him on this trip. She loved to do things like that. I can see her now. Father had her to hang onto the break rope and pull it when ever it was necessary. They usually just used the running gear of the wagon and used log chains to put around the poles to hold them together.
I’ll never forget how she looked sitting upon that pile of poles. The road was rough and there was no springs except for the cushion father had taken along for her. She was still small but had grown thick through the middle. She looked like a ball bouncing around up there. She smiled and laughed while father held onto the reins. Thus I stood enjoying all of it along with them as they drove up to the pile of wood. Mother jumped off that wagon with just as much ease and said, “Let’s take this load up to Harry’s place. They’ll be coming soon.” Father did so and unloaded it there. I said to mother, “That was quite a ride.” “Wasn’t it?” she said, “but I liked it.”
The next day father went to some folks and bought a turkey for Thanksgiving and mother spent that afternoon dressing and preparing it for the roasting the next morning which would be Thanksgiving. That evening before retiring I watched her rub the bird with a mixture of flour, salt, and some pepper. She rubbed this all over the turkey several times. Then she stuffed it with her favorite dressing made with bread crumbs, one small grated potato, a small finely chopped onion, and a tablespoon of cornmeal, two tablespoons of melted butter, two whole eggs, powdered sage, salt and pepper. Then put it into the roaster and shove it back on the cupboard, ready for the oven the next morning. Mother was up and around early, for there would be lots to do that day. I got my work done up early also, so I could watch for Jim.
It was getting towards noon when I saw him come over the hill, down into the canyon. From the rate Beauty was coming, it didn’t look as though she had slacked her pace the whole fifty miles. She was really a wonderful little horse. I rushed out to meet him, and his first words were, “You look sweeter than ever,” and gave me a big hug and kiss. Then he unharnessed Beauty, put a blanket on her, and gave her a little water, as she was quite sweaty from the drive, and then a feed of oats. And as we started for the house, he turned back, took his suitcase and a small tan holder with a strap that hangs over your shoulder, and putting it there said, “Here are those spy glasses I promised you.” Then taking a box from the seat and opening it said, “Can you guess what this is?”
“Sure,” I answered, “a camera, and now whose pictures do you think you are going to take ?” “You’ll see,” he said. “And now you can’t guess why I came this morning instead of yesterday afternoon.” “No, why?”
“Because in this way I can stay a day longer with you” and, squeezing my hand tight, we walked on in the house together. My sister was helping Mother, but she was quite excited about the spy glasses. I gave them to her, and she went outside, looking in all directions. I helped Mother to finish up getting the dinner on.
Soon we were all seated, and Jim returned thanks. A delicious meal, and we had all eaten heartily, and when it came time for desserts. I was so anxious for him to taste all of my six cakes and Mother’s fruit cake. 1 cut a very small piece of each, putting it on a small plate and passed it to him. He looked so astonished, and my face got real red as he said, “1 don’t believe I can eat that much after all the other I have eaten.” Hastily I said, “1 only meant for you to taste each.” But he teased me ever after, and when I would make a cake after that, he’d say, “Where are the other six and he’d say, “That was really something - seven pieces of cake all at once!” I’d say, “Oh! forget it. It only happened once in your lifetime, and will never happen again.”
After dinner, I put on my nice white serge jacket suit, furs, and beaver hat with the willow plume, here Jim had me to stand down by Shirley Creek where he proposed to me and took several pictures. Then he had father take three pictures of himself and I together, wanting to send them to Iowa for his folks to see and keep, and some for us.
When we went back to the house, he took a letter from his pocket he had received from his Mother the day before, and had me read it. It was an exceptionally nice letter written well, and very interesting. In it, she asked several questions about me. Jim wanted me to write to her, but I was a bit hesitant and somewhat reluctant at the time, for I did not know them and I, perhaps, would be their daughter-in-law. I thought the matter over carefully and finally told Jim I would wait a while before attempting to do so, he thought that would be all right. My folks enjoyed Jim’s visit so that, the few days he was there seemed to pass rapidly, and soon the morning came for him to leave. And, as usual, that night I started another letter to him, and a couple of days later I received one from him, saying he had written that same evening; and thus it went, November was nearly gone and December coming up.
With it, my brother’s wife, and two children moved from Rupert to their home on the north of our place. It was a cold, rainy, snowy-like day when they got to our place. It was nice when they started that morning. Jim let my brother have his team and wagon to move out in because it had bows or ribs some called them to go over the wagon and slip in places on the sides of the wagon to put the canvas top over, which was good for them that day.
I never did forget my sister-in-law. She and the children had been sitting back in the wagon on a featherbed, and some way or another, she lost one of her new pink house slippers on the trip.

Across the Years pages 91-105

PART II
OUR HOMESTEAD ON SHIRLEY CREEK
The wind continued to blow and the sand drifted. The young man came as usual for his grocery order. I was deeply interested in a new book and my sister intent on learning a new piece of music, therefore, we did not go to the door. Mother gave him the order. Finally, he asked where the girls were. Hearing his remark, my sister went out. They talked for some minutes and then he went on his way. We spent most of the day indoors for it wasn’t very pleasant to be out, especially if one was not used to Idaho’s dust storms. The days that followed were extremely nice, as though nature was trying to make amends. As one fellow said, “There are days when I wonder why we ever took this land from the Indians. Then on nice days I can readily see why.” Thus the days went by and summer came. We were beginning to get used to this climate and to appreciate it more. July 3, 1912 arrived. That night a party was given in our honor at the home of this young man by his mother. A neighbor boy had been invited also, so he went with my sister and I. It was a lovely quiet summer night. The frogs from the wayside ditches tried to drown out any conversation we might be having as we walked along. When we came in view of the home. Some of the young people had already arrived and were out in the front yard. We were soon introduced and everyone went indoors.
Here sat the young man who took the grocery orders and another nice looking young man. Both arose and came forward. The young man in question introduced his friend, “I want you to meet James Throckmorton, a young man from Iowa.” My heart sorta slipped. I thought, “another Jim,” at the same time he said, “But everyone calls me Jim.”
The evening was spent in playing the piano, singing, and playing various games. Late in the evening the lady of the house served refreshments. After enjoying these everyone was saying good-bye and shaking hands in a jolly mood. I passed the refreshment table to
thank the hostess for a lovely evening. Mr. Throckmorton was standing close as I passed. He reached out to shake my hands and asked me if I would like to go to Blue Lakes tomorrow. His friend and his girlfriend were going and he thought it would be a nice trip. I agreed and said I thought I could go but I would have to ask my parents. Somewhat silent on the way home I was thinking what if my folks objected. I was supposed to be up early the next morning and ready for the train trip to Twin Falls. The young man walking between us sensed my quietness and began kidding me. I took the kidding all in good humor, but I was a bit worried. The young men I had gone with before had always been to our home first and properly introduced to my parents. When this young man left us at the door and bid us good-night, he called back, “Just be brave, you’ll make the grade.” I laughed and said, “O.K.”

Quietly we opened the door and walked in. My folks, whom I thought were asleep, were far from it. They asked if we enjoyed the party. We said we did. My sister went to bed while I began trying to explain about the trip I was to go on the next morning by saying, “You know the young man who takes the grocery orders? Well, he and his girlfriend, that you and I know real well, are going to Twin Falls and Blue Lakes early tomorrow. I met a young man at the party by the name of Jim,” but before I could get the Throckmorton out, my father said, “Jim how many?” Then I told him the last name. I said he seems like a very nice young man. He wants me to go with him. The four of us would go on the train for a Fourth of July trip. My mother said she thought it would be alright. It sounds like you will be in good company. My father agreed to that and added, “We’ve never met this young man.” “No,” I replied, “but my brother has. About this time my brother spoke up and said he had met him. He thought he was an exceptionally nice fellow. Then he said, “Let’s all get some sleep.” I went to bed feeling good that everything was settled. I didn’t sleep even though I knew I had to be up early and ready to go. I tried not to wake my sister for she would do as she had done so often, poke me in the ribs and tell me to go to sleep. I lay there, trying not to move or turn, wondering just what the trip would be like. I didn’t have to wonder long for somewhere in the distance I heard a rooster crow. I wondered if it was day break or midnight. Surely it was past midnight. Then a dog’s lusty bark broke the stillness. I could see faint rays of light. It was early morning. My sister’s snoring and the far away bark of the dog seemed to lu1l me to sleep. Thus my worries were over. Suddenly I felt a hand on my shoulder and someone whispered in my ear that it was time to get up. It was mother. She had arisen early and prepared my breakfast. She was going to assist me in getting off on my trip. I quietly got up so as not to awaken my sister, slipped on a house coat, and went to breakfast. By the time I had washed, dressed, and arranged my hair nicely, a knock came on the door. I opened it, and stepped out. Jim wanted to know if I could go. I said I was ready. Then he held out his arm and motioned. I took a hold and we were off. There were a number of folks at the depot. One young man in particular edged over to where we were and said to Jim, “I’d like to meet your girl friend.” As I was made acquainted, the other young couple walked up that we were to go with. The train was a bit late, but we were having a good time talking. Finally it pulled in and stopped. The conductor went into the station. All of us went aboard and took our seats. Jim raised our window. The train moved out. There was nothing pretty about the countryside on the beginning of the trip. Mostly sage brush and desert, but the clean cool fresh air that came in the window made up for the scenery. It was a fascinating trip: For Jim was so attentive to me trying to explain each little detail about the country. He had come to this part of the country one year before on April 1, 1911 from his home at Derby, Iowa.
It took some time for the train to get to Twin Falls. The depot was somewhat larger than the one at Rupert. And the town much larger. There were many lovely homes and a pretty country side. The four of us went looking for a cafe. We soon found a very nice small country place that was clean and well kept. Here the four of sat at one table. And made the mistake of ordering fried chicken. We sat for an indefinite length of time. It seemed almost an hour. Maybe it just seemed long because we were talking, laughing, and wondering what could have happened. Surely we thought they must have had to go to some farmer, buy the chicken, then dress and frying them. And in the meantime working up quite an appetite. When they finally brought the dinner, it was exceptionally good. As one fellow said, by that time most anything would have tasted good. We hurried through it for time was slipping away. We then headed for a livery stable to hire a team and carriage for the trip to Blue Lakes.
It was a warm ride except for a cool breeze. Soon we were driving down into the canyon where the lakes were. They were very pretty with a bluish color. And much cooler in the canyon. To our surprise there was a cherry orchard set in among the rocks. Here was a quiet calmness. As we strolled around the lake, I thought how nice it would be to have a home here away from the hot winds and the glare of the desert. But only a small place, and already in another’s posession. We were not there long when others seemed to seek out its Inviting coolness and looking for a place to rest, relax, and perhaps enjoy a picnic lunch. After walking around awhile we decided there were other places of interest. So back we went to the carriage and drove away.
The boys thought it would be nice to visit Shoshone Falls. So started out in that direction. The trip was rather hot and dusty, but it was worth it for the Falls were very pretty. We walked around quite awhile, then stood just watching the huge body of water go over the Falls. Then descended the long steep steps to the valley below the Falls. I had walked up an ddown the steps at Oregon city, Oregon and Council Crest, a summer resort near Portland on numerous occasions, but these steps were much steeper. I was no used to this high altitude and the trip back up tired me. Being tired was something that never bothered me before for I was always on the go, running, jumping, and sailing up the long flights of stairs two at a time at home. The sun was hot but the mist from the Falls were cooling to our sun-scorched faces. We were enjoying this part of it very much. Other people had gathered for a picnic or just sight seeing.
Consulting his watch, Jim thought we had better start back so as not to miss our train. The team, quite sweaty with dust sticking to their hair, were more than anxious to be on the go. Taking hold of the reins, Jim tapped each with the buggy whip. This seemed unnecessary for the horses took off on a trot over the winding road back to Twin Falls. We laughed and talked of the never to be forgotten Fourth of July in the year 1912 and thought it had been quite a day.
As we ddrove the team back to the livery stable, the man came out to take the team. As we got out of the carriage said, ‘You young folks have a good time I reckon.” “Yes,” we replied, “sure did and thanks a lot.” Of course the boys paid for the hire of the team for that was the man’s business.
We didn’t have long to wait at the depot when the train whistled and clanged the bell, and the huge engine puffed into the depot. Here we went aboard for that homeward bound trip. We were not he only young folks. There were others like ourselves out for some Fourth of July fun that year of 1912. all were laughing and talking. They seemed to have a great amount of fun. The conductor calling all aboard. The train started with a jerk. This started some of the young folks giggling all over again. It was like dropping a ruler in school everyone laughs. Once again the miles seemed to vanish as the train made its way across that long piece of desert waste land. It seemed to me after living in a city like Prtland, Oregon.
By late afternoon, back again in that small western town of Rupert, Idaho. Jim took my arm. I stepped from the train. Thys we left the depot and the many Fourth of July fun seekers with only a few blacks to where we lived. The walk soon over. We talked of the trip and activities of the day. Mother came to the door an dinvited Jim in but he said he’d better go on. He had chores to do. He was farming and kept some stock where he boarded.
Mother was preparing the evening meal when I went in. her first words were, “when I saw you walk away towards the depot I thought he’ll never do for Annie. He isn’t tall and slim enough. He’s most too heavy set.” He was somewhat heavy and did not look his height, which was 5 feet 11 ½ inches.
I Changed into a house dress and busied myself with helping y setting the table.

My sister had gone with other young folks to Burley which wasn’t much larger than Rupert. She did not arrive back until after I did. But was full of fun about the doings of the day. Immediately she sat down to the piano. to play some of her new pieces of music and soon we were both singing. And still at it when mother announced we should eat. It was a nice meal. Mother had fixed a bit special. She thought the young man might eat with us. Not long after the table had been cleared away, there was a knock. And my friend with his nice horse and buggy wanting to take me for a drive around town. It was decided we’d attend a movie first. Those were the days of the silent films. I don’t remember the show now except it was a love scene with a lovely country lane, fields, woods and streams. Those were the kind I liked best.
Afterwards we went to an ice cream parlor. And had a dish of ice cream each. Then a short drive. The night air cool and refreshing with a big moon just coming up from behind the mountain peaks as we arrived home. From the light that shone thru the window, I knew Mother was waiting up for me. My young man jumped from the buggy to assist me. He asked, as he escorted me to the door, when he could see me again or if he could take me to church on Sunday. I agreed to church. He grasped my hand firmly and we said goodnight. I slipped in through the partly open door as Jim pulled on the reins and with a tap of the whip he was gone. The shiny paint from the buggy wheels glistened in the moonlight. My mother sat waiting for me. An open Bible on the table showed. She had been reading and meditating while waiting. The rest of the household was asleep. Mother turned to me saying, “Did you have a nice time?” “Very,” I replied. Looking back as I started for the bedroom, I said, “He’s an exceptionally fine young man.” Mother smiled and nodded a good night.
Donning my night dress, I crept quietly into bed, hoping not to awaken my sister. But she was awake and the hours rolled by as we lay there talking. Our minds were drifting. Once again of our home the scenes so vivid. My sister was talking of Sidney. She had given
up her sweetheart in a rash moment, and wished that time could be turned back, so she could live those days over. She wondered where he was and if he were married. I said, “most likely. Once in everyone’s life there’s a regret, but you’ll get over it. It’s just because we are in this strange country. Things will be different, you’ll see.” There was a sadness there that I’ve never forgotten. We had both had a full busy day. Midnight had rolled around and dawn was coming up as we drifted off into dreamland. The talks between us that night were lasting. Years have not erased.

We were both awakened by the clattering of dishes. My mother and sister-in-law were talking in the kitchen while getting breakfast. Father and brother had dressed and gone outside to feed and harness the horses. At that moment little Mary had gotten out of bed and stood in the middle of the floor in her pajamas. She was clutching her Eskimo doll in one arm and her teddy bear in the other. And had evidently taken the teddy bear from her brother for he was putting up quite a fuss about it. When finally she went back and said, “You can have it. I didn’t want it anyway,” the tears subsided and all was calm.
After breakfast my sister played and sang several of the pretty songs. Sidney had loved and watched with admiring glances as she played. She had a lovely voice and an exceptionally nice touch while playing the piano.
Later I saw her admiring his picture. I said, “Why don’t you write. Maybe he isn’t married.” He had written her the last three letters. “Oh!” she said, “He’s surely married since he’s so nice looking.” A handsome fellow, with dark brown hair and eyes and the tan of a summer sun complexion. And all of six feet tall. A university graduate. Finally turning to me quickly and in a soft low voice, said ‘Do you really think I should write?” Then turning away said in a faraway voice, “what’s done is done. I’ll not write.” I’ve always believed there are times in ones life when we’d like to turn life’s pages back, but see the uselessness of it.
We went to town in the afternoon just to look around and pass the time away. Father and brother had gone to the ranch with another load of lumber and other things. He had coaxed mother to go along but she said she’d wait until the home to be was nearer finished. Days went by and at times they seemed to go too fast. My young man Jim came Saturday evening and took me for a drive and to the show. It was a nice drive. Idaho as always cool and pleasant after a hot summer sun had set behind the distant hills. For I had at times watched the sun disappear after a long day and enjoy it so much. In this country it seemed more beautiful than ever. As a child that gold ball had a fascination for me. Mother used to call and say, “Come now, supper is ready.” Even though, like a child, I was hungry as usual, and mother’s suppers always something delicious, I’d say, “Just a little while, just a little while.” When the last rays of the sun had flickered away, I’d go in and take my place at the table. Mother would get down the coal oil lamps and light them. How bright they seemed compared to the darkness outside.
I was no longer a child now, but still the fascination lingered on. My young man seemed to enjoy this along with me or maybe he was making believe, as we returned home from the show. He gave my hand an extra squeeze and we said good-night.
When I went in everyone was asleep so I quietly retired. Soon I too was fast asleep. But I had not slept long until dogs began to bark and a noise like a wagon driving into the yard was heard. Mother was soon up and turned on the light. She knew immediately what it was. She always seemed to have a way of knowing things ahead of time. It was the men folks returning from the ranch. My sister-in-law also arose. She and mother prepared a lunch for the men before retiring. I heard my father say just before I drifted off again “If building of the house was all-,that would be fine, but there is still the fencing of the land, post to ‘be gotten from the hills, and wire to be bought.” A lawfull fence was five wires with fence posts ever so often.
It was somewhat later the next morning before anyone awoke.M sister and I though attended Sunday school and church. When we arrived, horses, wagons and buggies were parked all around the church. They were starting to sing when we walked in. I looked back as we went in the door and there in the distance was Jim’s horse and buggy. The mare was a beautiful animal. She had tracked in Iowa and other mid-west states. And was of Hamiltonian breed. The buggy glistened in the sun as though Jim had spent some time polishing it.
My sister and I took a seat, beside two of our girlfriends. And there was so much to talk about what had happened during the week that we just had to whisper some when the teacher, my young man Jim, wasn’t looking. He almost caught us once when he asked us a question. As luck would have it, I was listening and answered it. After Sunday school all of us went up to sing in the choir. A quiet, nice summer morning. The minister’s sermon was inspiring and filled with words that gave one something to live on through the week. Jim stood between my sister and I as the closing hymn was sung. He had a good high voice, which I couldn’t help but notice. It blended so well with my sister’s and mine for my sister and I had sung so often together by request at church, parties and so forth. At the close of the service Jim drove his horse and buggy up a little closer and assisted us in. One little pull on the reins and we were off. My mother had dinner ready so we all went in and ate. Father asked Jim to return thanks. It was a good prayer of thanks. I tried to remember it and succeeded somewhat.
In the afternoon we went for a drive. And that evening Jim took us to church again. The services were nice for I always enjoyed church activities.
After services we stopped at an ice cream shop. A little wooden building on the west side of the square in Rupert. Run by some friends of Jim’s. Here we had a dish of delicious homemade ice cream. (There wasn’t much to Rupert in 1912. It was a pretty new country.)
Upon arriving home we just sat and talked for awhile. Mother came out and invited us in. Jim said he thought he’d better be going as he had a lot to do the next day. My sister went in the house. But Jim and I continued to talk and time seemed to vanish. There was a quiet stillness in the air except for the frogs from the irrigation ditches. More like an invisible melody or a scrap of a tune hovering in the air. Now and again a faraway bark of a dog or the call of a night bird. Life was somewhat beautiful at that moment.
During the next few weeks Jim and I saw much of each other. He’d ride his pretty horse or mare and lead her beautiful colt. I named Billy Fortune. He wanted to show me how he was breaking the colt to lead and get used to the rope and halter. The colt was from racing blood like his mother.
The following Sunday my mother invited Jim and the young man, who was a son of the couple Jim boarded with, over for dinner. So I baked a cake on Saturday. After church when the four of us arrived, mother had everything ready except setting the table. Idid this while sister entertained the young men.
When finally mother said, “Let’s sit down.” Father took his place at the head of the table. Chicken was the menu with nice fresh garden vegetables and a crisp salad. After thanks was returned by Jim, the food was passed around the table. A most enjoyable occasion. Much visiting and talking went on. Especially directed at father in regards to the ranch and home he was erecting there for his family. They were still talking along those lines as we arose and left the table at the completion of the meal. My sister and I cleared away the table, washed and put away the dishes. After this was over Jim and I went for a ride. As we got in the buggy and started off, I could hear my sister playing the piano and singing with the young man accompanying her.
It was a nice sunny afternoon not a cloud in the sky. And almost a bit too warm for it was mid-summer. The birds sang and chirped. The meadow larks whistled. Jim could imitate them perfectly and did so as we drove along. Soon we came to the river. So drove down by it. Jim said, “I am going to drive out in it.” I said, “You hadn’t better.” He said, “Oh, just on the edge.” “No farther,” I told him. Beauty was very hesitant. She didn’t want to go in the water, but she obeyed the voice that cowed her on. She no sooner got her feet in it when she headed for the shore. “I think she knows better than we do about this old muddy Snake River,” I said. “Do you think so?” asked Jim trying to keep her in the water awhile longer. 1 said, “If you drive out any farther, I’ll get out.” He replied, “Look what you’ll get out in.” “I can take my shoes off,” I told him. By that time Beauty had her front feet on the bank. And by the way she sped out of there 1 don’t think she intended getting back in. Then Jim laughed and said, “I just wanted to tease. I let Beauty have her head.” Beauty got out of there so fast when we were back again on the road I laughed and said, “Let’s go home. My folks will wonder where we are.” He said that was where we are going and Beauty started off on a trot. And Jim asked if I wanted to see how fast she could go. And she really took off. I had witnessed lots of races but that little mare was traveling faster than most any I had seen. Maybe it seemed so because Iwas in the buggy. I had seen racing horses, hitched to sulkys, or small two wheel carts, but had never ridden in one on the tracks. I had only ridden horseback. When we drove in the yard my father immediately noticed that Beauty’s feet were muddy to the knees. “Was the horse blind too?” he asked. He figured .we were. He said, “You know that’s pretty dangerous along that river in some places”. “Yes, I know”, replied Jim “but I knew it was safe where we drove in.” He got out of the buggy and helped me out. He said he had to get home and get his chores done. And would be back later and take me to church.
When he came mother had him eat some cake, ice cream and fruit with us before we went. When we went in church, we were asked to sing in the choir. They needed extra singers. The choir was a nice place to be, since you could see everyone that came in. Soon my sister came in with the young man. They too came up in the choir. And sat behind us. Finally my brother and sister-in-law came in. We did not go for a drive that night after church. Neither did we sit and talk very long. Jim had to mow hay the next day. This was the second cutting. He had to get up early to get the sickles sharpened. We said good-night, but he continued to hold my hand as we stood near the door saying good-night for the third or fourth time.
The next Wednesday night when we saw each other, the folks he boarded with said, “That surely was a case of love at first sight.” Jim asked me what I thought. I replied; “I’ve heard of love at first sight, but I think young people should be friends for quite awhile. Then they should be good friends for some time before talking of love. I really think one should get to know each other, some of their faults, some of their failures, and some of their good points as well. They should be thoroughly satisfied that they are the one and only that they would want to spend the rest of their life with. Health and character are very important, especially if one is to look ahead to the future to the family they plan to have and raise. In fact, I think one should use their brains if they have any as well as their heart. One seldom goes wrong in picking a good Christian with good character and good health. I always told my folks if I should marry I would want good healthy children if possible for I had seen so many that were not.” When I had finished he said, “Well you know that’s the way I’ve been raised and that’s the way I believe. Since we both feel the same way, we should get along fine.” 1agreed to that. We had been driving south in the moonlight as we talked and there is no perfume sweeter than the new mown hay. The hay in the fields along side the road had been mowed that morning.
Finally when he turned to go east, I thought he was turning around to start back to town. After he had gone some distance 1said, “where are you taking me?” He replied, “Just for a drive. You aren’t afraid?.” “No I replied”, only I am not used to being alone with a
young man I do not know very well this far out in the country.” It wasn’t very far out. It only seemed that way. He turned north and headed back to Rupert. Then he told me we’d soon be home. When we drove into the yard, I hurriedly got out of the buggy saying good-night as I did so. I was afraid my folks would get after me for being gone so long. When I looked back, Jim was following me to the door. As I was about to put my hand on the knob, he said, “I haven’t said good-night to you yet.” I stood for a moment waiting. He grabbed my hand saying, “You seem to be afraid of me. Was it the drive?” “No,” I returned, “only my folks do not like me out so late.” I grabbed again for the knob. “Wait,” he said, “When can I see you again?” “Oh! most anytime.” This time I turned the knob and went into the house and my young man drove away.
Mother was waiting up for me. “You are a bit late, don’t you think?” she said. “Maybe,” I replied, “We drove a little farther than we figured tonight.” “Just be careful,” .she added. “He seems like a fine young man but you do not know him too well yet. I said, Oh, he’s a gentleman, mother. He couldn’t be nicer I am sure.” With this we went to bed.
The next morning father and mother packed extra things in preparation for the move about two or three weeks hence into the big wagon and were off on that fifty mile trip to the ranch. This was a trip mother would enjoy for she was somewhat of a pioneer in spirit. My sister and I went shopping that morning just for something to do. We went in this store and that. But didn’t find anything we wanted to buy. How different these stores were from the large department stores we knew in Portland. We missed the music store where one could buy the latest hits in songs as soon as they were out. Also missed the large beautiful parks we could stroll in.
We were beginning though to like the new country we had come to. The dust storms were less frequent for they came mostly in the spring and late fall. We would be to the ranch by then. And just wondering what the ranch would be like. Mother would tell us more
about it when she returned. Being young in experience knew very little of ranching except what we had gained through living on the eighty acres at home. And knew little of that for father worked for big companies and hired everything done. This would be an adventure we’d have to learn about. We knew there would be no modern conveniences in this ranch home located in a. small valley by a gurgling mountain stream. We loved the luxurious home we had been raised in until we got the western fever. When finally. we
headed for that mile upon mile of wide open plain country with howling blizzards, dust storms, and the night broken by the weird cry of the coyote. With his shrill, piercing cry, one would think he was only a few feet away. I had walked across the cactus and gravel
covered hills in Montana to my sister and. brother-in-laws ranch Just below their ranch was the quiet flowing Milk river. I loved those walks. The air you inhaled seemed to make one feel good right to the very end of your toes. The prairie dogs chattered and scurried away as we trespassed over their land which seemed fit only for grazing stock. The magpies too mocked and made fun in their chattering way. I was only sixteen then but life was never more beautiful. Now I “was beginning to experience a little of that beauty again since I had met Jim. (My fourth Jim.) I was older now and a little more on the settled side. It seemed Jim and I were meant for each other. He wanted to be with me as often as he could. And I too liked having him around. Life was sweet and love had crept in unbeknowing to either of us. And knew we liked being in each other’s company. I thought so often of all the nice young men I had met and gone with. I liked them just while being in their company. When we were apart, they meant nothing. I cared little whether they came or didn’t. I know now that wasn’t love. It was only the fun of being together and the good time that went with it.
I now had the feeling I was drifting into something more serious than I had gotten into before. Keeping this all to myself, I went along through the weeks that followed trying to think nothing of it. Jim continued to come more often than ever. And when he thought he was coming too often, he’d think of an excuse for coming. Soon my folks began to notice. And when they’d ask questions, 1’d say he just liked to show me his pretty colt and how he’s training him, or that he just likes to come. So thus the days passed.
And the day came when we were packed and ready to go to our new home. That day dawned brightly. And all were all astir, getting the last of the load. The piano the hardest to load. My father climbed upon the wagon seat. The horses leaned into the collar as though the wagon was loaded a bit heavy. Once out on the road they got into a jog or slow trot.
Jim came with his white top, called a spring wagon, and loaded in the suitcases. He had a lively team and made short work in catching up with my father. So mother rode with us.
We traveled slowly for some time until my father waved us on. Cupping his hands to his mouth he said it would be dark before we could get there. And soon we left the project behind. After crossing the Snake River bridge. My father had traveled this road many times with loads of lumber. We were headed for Raft River and a vast flat desert of grease wood and sage brush. Raft River a small stream running through this valley. Willows grew along its bank. The river now quite low this time of the year since the water was being used for irrigating.
We watched for mirages that appeared frequently in the glimmering sun of the desert. And it was past noon when we pulled up to camp at Raft River, and unhitched the horses. Jim watered and fed them. Mother got out our basket of lunch and my sister and I spread
a blanket and then a table cloth. Mother put the basket on this. Then began to unwrap and pass out sandwiches and pickles. Jim had brought along a jug of cold milk. This was a welcome treat with pie and cake. We enjoyed the lunch for we hadn’t eaten since early morning. After clearing things away, my sister and I took a walk along the river bank among the willows waving and growing there. We hunted for pretty pebbles and rocks that had been left on the bank when the water was high. Stooping here and there picking them up. I longed to take off my shoes and go wading. This small river reminded me of a small river many miles away.
When we returned the horses were hitched. Mother was sitting comfortably in the back seat of the wagon. Jim helped us both in with the September sun beating down hotter than ever. If we thought the long morning trip was tiring, this was doubly so for the sun began to blister our faces that were used to a damper climate. The alkali wind bit and stung, but still we laughed and chatted. We watched the desert mirages mile after mile. Ground squirrels that had their holes too close to the road scurried away. Jack rabbits by the dozens bounded over the ground through the clumps of sage brush. Herds of grazing cattle stopped their incessant eating to gaze at the passersby. Jim explained that few cattle were in the valley this time of the year. Most of them were in the hills along streams and mountain sides where there was more feed. The dead June grass made sores in the cattle’s mouths.
So far no one had passed us. The field glasses Jim had brought along came handy to gaze at the distant hills with clumps of trees where the snow laid longest in the spring time. Once or twice I turned the glasses on the long trail over which we had come. I hoped to get some little glimpse of my father with his team and loaded wagon. This was something I shouldn’t expect for we had been trotting right along. Our team was now showing signs of it. Their coats were covered with sweat and flecked with dust, but Jim urged them on for it was getting late. The sun too showed evening was approaching. Jim took out his watch every so often and kept us posted as to the time. I sat in front with him. He would let me drive once in awhile.
Finally we saw several wagons and teams in the distance on other roads. Perhaps the roads led to some cabin on the mountain side where there was a ranch, a spring, a small stream of water, a clump of trees or perhaps an orchard of fruit trees in a small valley that derived water from snow that laid long after all other was melted. Homesteaders who built cabins in the flats. Thought they would try their luck. We were nearing the foothills now with the sun disappearing faster and faster. Jim crowded the weary horses on for night comes fast in the hills. Finally we thought we heard water running. There it was gurgling away. A cool dampness arose from the valley below. Such a relief for our scorched and sunburned faces and hands. The
sun vanished and twilight was our light and darkness gathered. The moon would not rise until later, but we continued on over the winding valley road.
Soon now to the first gate. A western style barb wire gate. Jim got down and opened it while I drove. Before getting in he took a lantern from the back of the wagon and lit it. This he hung on the side of the wagon because the valley was an inky blackness. Before long there was another of those western gates. Soon through this and on our last lap of the trip. I began to become afraid. We were not used to this. I wondered where we were and what kind of a place this was. Here we were city girls that had been raised in a closely settled country all our life. Was this to be our home?
The little creek called Shirley Creek was undisturbed and ‘Continued madly on its way. In fact it was music to our ears for it was the only noise that broke the stillness of that lonely dark canyon except for the ceaseless singing of the frogs. And so dreary in the darkness. Finally the house loomed into view. We were home at last after a dry hot fifty mile drive with a team and wagon when Jim said “ho” the horses seemed to stop dead in their tracks. They seemed as glad as we for the journey’s end. Jim jumped down and assisted mother out. He handed her the lantern, then helping us out. We began to cry, Jim tried to comfort us by telling us to wait until morning things would 1ook better. Somewhere off on a hillside a weird cry arose from the throat of a coyote as though he too were trying to serenade us at that lonely moment.
I helped Jim to unhitch the horses and take them to the creek for water. Mother had the lights lit and we had the lantern to find our way to the creek. As we fed the horses we both seemed to look up at the same time to see a large ball of gold just coming up over the top of a distant peak. Here we stood hand in hand, enthralled at this sight before our eyes. As the moon slowly rose from behind the mountain top. I called my sister and mother to witness this beautiful sight. At that same moment a coyote seemed to be enjoying this also for he began baying in his crooning way.
Turning away mother said, “Come now. We’ll eat some supper.” With a fire going she had prepared some mea,t fried potatoes with peaches and a cake she had baked before we left Rupert. Never had had food tasted so good. The long trip and cool of the mountain night air had given us an appetite. Mother though seemed worried. We could sense it. She said she had the feeling something might have happened for down that long trail we had just come over was a man alone With a team and loaded wagon plodding along at a slow pace. Mother prepared the downstairs bedroom for Jim. My sister and I took the upstairs east bedroom. The west bedroom was for my parents Everything was so strange that I could not go to sleep while mother kept vigil downstairs as she always did in cases of this kind.

pages 82-90

that trip going East, the train layed over all one night on the siding. When the conductor came through the next morning he wanted to know if we slept well. We said, “yes.” He said, “you should have. We parked this train on the siding all night so you’d get a good night’s sleep.” Then he laughed and went on. He said to my father, “there was a wreck on the line.” Father said he knew the train had stayed on the siding all night. My sister and I had slept so sound we didn’t know it until we awoke and the train was going. Upon arriving in Portland a big tent revival meeting was in full swing. The tent held five or six hundred people and was full every night with people standing outside. We all took time out of evenings to attend. They were wonderful meetings. My sister and I got to sing in the large choir. Finally I became one of the personnel workers. When the altar calls were given, I would talk with some who raised their hands but yet lacked courage to make a start. I would walk down that sawdust trail with them and kneel down and pray with them until one of the special altar workers would take over. I would then talk to others among the crowd. The meetings were of no one denomination but the two evangelists were Methodist. What good meetings they were. I don’t know when I had enjoyed myself more. It seemed to me it was just the thing I wanted to do for I was so happy helping in my small way. When the time came for them to move on to another large city, I was lost for awhile but the memory was sweet. Several times in an evening and sometimes more, I would walk that trail, with someone undecided, to give them faith and courage to grasp a better life and to have Christ in their hearts. Some had said they just couldn’t take the step even though it seemed so clear and plain to them. “You don’t know,” they would say, “my home isn’t a home” or “my wife is divorcing me.” Maybe it was “we have no control over our children.” But somehow the Lord would put the right answers in my mouth for what they were saying seemed of little consequence compared to the answers that came back in return. Scripture would come to me at times like that where other times it would fail me when I was in a more careless or thoughtless mood. I have lived and relived some of those talks and answers as the years have gone by, especially where their main plea was they were alcoholics or drug addicts and couldn’t give it up. I would tell them that nothing is impossible with God. God has cured more alcoholics than medicine if you are willing to put your whole faith and trust in him. Live for him and let him be the caretaker of your soul, mind and body. My life was made happier through those experiences. Thus the Bible became more precious to me. I read it each night before retiring.
I was eighteen that September tenth, nineteen hundred and ten. “It hardly seemed possible. We had been back in Portland nearly two months. I had had letters from Frank and the two Jims. Frank was rather put out because I had not written or told him we had gone East and was there most of the summer. He said he would have come to see me. Jim, Ida’s nephew, had been in Philadelphia and had gone there just before we went East and back to our old home. He learned too late that I was there so wrote me at our new address in Portland. The main statement in his letter was that he was coming out to Portland and take me back. I answered his letter right off. I said, “we’d like for you to come very much but don’t plan on taking me back.” That just about finished our letter writing. After some time he wrote saying it was impossible for him to come because of his job. I put that letter aside and I don’t remember if I ever answered it or not. About six months later we heard he was married to a Philadelphia girl. I was very glad and happy for him, for I, as yet, had not considered marrying anyone. The second Jim’s letter was so friendly and nice. He was so pleased we had gone to our old home town and state and had had a good visit with all our old friends. Finally too I began writing less and less to him.
Our rainy season had set in, just warm-like showers. The roses were still blooming as Portland was called the Rose City. No one quit work in that country because of rains. It was somewhat like a mist that lasted the winter through. Sometimes they would get what they called a “silver thaw.” Every branch, every leaf, every wire, every pole and every house top was coated with ice. Even rosebuds were encased in ice. Lots of damage was done when one of those came. Electric wires and so forth were down and walking was dangerous. It always seemed like, to me, that more people got out on rainy days than good. Umbrellas bobbing up and down with rain coats, overshoes and rain hats under them. The working men wore those raincoats called slickers and big rain hats. Rain didn’t seem to bother anyone there.
My sister and her husband came with us that same fall we did. They too, were a bit tired of the Montana cold. Their son, William Pruden, Jr., was a big handsome, rosey cheeked boy and took the notice of most people. He and Harry and Ida’s girl, Mary, used to have quite a time at my parents. Their grandma would always want to give them some candy, cookies or oranges. Mary would always take hers and thank grandma for it. But Pruden Jr. or Buster as we called him wouldn’t. Then he’d remark, “mama got some.” He and
Mary would go in the parlor and stand in front of the big window and here, with their arms around each other eat together what grandma had given Mary. Sallie and Pruden stayed on with us. He got a job clerking a store and that September, 1911, their second boy, Robert Harry, was born. They liked being in that warm climate so well they rented them a home.
There was a nice boy who used to take orders each morning and deliver by going from house to house for his father’s butcher shop. I had met him several times by going to the shop to buy meat for my mother. He was tall with blond, curly hair and blue eyes, a very nice boy. Each morning when he came to our house to take an order, if he didn’t see me, he’d ask where I was, of my mother. Most generally I was around someplace and we’d stand and talk until I’d tell him you’ll miss out on some orders if you don’t get to going. We did a lot of talking on the back steps and once in awhile he’d come in and have me play the piano for him. Though he asked, I never went any place with him. I remember his last name but I am not quite sure of his first name. Yes, it was “Morris,” his first name. I can see him now as plain as day.
After Sallie and Pruden moved to their home, father found, through the man he was contracting and building for, a much larger and nicer home. So we moved to it. It had a large attic with large rooms. Wilhelmina and I immediately took us one of those rooms. There were three large bedrooms, a big bath and hallway upstairs on the second floor. It had a very large kitchen, dining room and a large front room and hallway downstairs and a basement as large as the house below. Which was very nice for keeping and storing things. We could keep wood and coal dry for the coal furnace. The furnace made it nice for heating such a large house. A large front and back yard and located in a grand neighborhood.
My brother and his wife and little daughter moved in with us because the house was so large and we all got along nicely. That February their second child, a boy was born to them. It was February 8, 1911. He was given the name of Harry Claud.
That winter seemed to slip past rather fast. Our neighbors came often and visited. We attended church and made many friends. When spring came mama would liked to have made a garden but the yard was all seeded to blue grass which had to be mowed instead of hoed. Vegetables were pretty cheap anyway in that big city. A man with a small wagon and little grey horse came around twice a week selling every kind of vegetable and fruits that were in season. Mama always took a basket out and picked over and bought what we needed so we didn’t lack for fresh vegetables and fruits. The grocer came as well as the butcher each morning and took your order then delivered what you ordered by eleven a.m. which made it nice for housewives who didn’t have the time to dress up and go to the store in the mornings when they were so busy. I think that was the only place we lived that they did that.
When spring came, Pruden and Sallie bought a lot and built themselves a small home. It was some blocks from our place. I used to have fun caring for their two boys. They made a small garden and there was a fruit tree or two on it.
Spring faded into summer and that August the three girls we knew and liked so well when we lived in Great Falls, Montana, came to visit us. They stayed two weeks. We really had a wonderful time. We took in everything worth seeing in and around Portland. We got up early one morning and took what is called the trip up the Columbia River to the Dalles. We left around seven a.m. It was truly a beautiful, scenic trip with water falls, mountains, lovely homes and farms along the way. That afternoon as we were eating dinner we started to go through the locks. The boat tipped badly, sliding some of the dishes into our laps. We nearly went over backwards and would have had not the waiters grabbed our chairs .We got afraid that the boat would sink. The waiter explained it by saying it was the raising of the water and whirlpools in the locks. The wharf was loaded with vegetables, fruits, chickens and what have you ready to be shipped. A little boy came aboard with a basket of such luscious looking peaches. We bought some to eat, as did most of the other passengers. I don’t think I have ever eaten sweeter peaches. The trip was beautiful going but more wonderful in the moonlight returning. There was a couple of fellows that had tried all day to get acquainted with us but we had avoided them until now. They slipped around and asked if they might set down with us on the moonlight deck. As we talked you could hear the water beating and splashing against the side of the boat. I finally got up and walked over by the rails gazing deep into the old Columbia as the boat plowed toward Portland. I watched its waves with the moonlight shining on them. At home, mama had become worried and had asked my brother if he would go down to the wharf to meet us. When the boat pulled in and docked around midnight, there was my brother standing there as the gang plank was lowered. We came ashore and he hustled us away and we barely made the last trolley home which was about a ten block ride. I felt sorry for my brother. He had lost his sleep waiting to see that a bunch of fun loving girls made it home safe. Mama was still waiting up for us. Somehow, I guess, we had failed to tell her how long we would be on the trip. She figured that was too late for girls to be out.
And so the two weeks soon passed. We went to the depot that lovely August morning to bid the girls goodbye. They hated to leave and we wishing they could stay longer. Soon the train pulled out and we were waving like mad at each other as it roared down the tracks with three girls Montana bound. That was the last we ever saw of the girls but we corresponded once in awhile with each other.
That February we learned of homestead land in Idaho. We all thought it would be of great interest to have and live on a homestead in the West. We had read so many stories along that line. So when spring came, father took his suitcase that mama had packed and
headed for Idaho. He wound up in the town of American Falls, Idaho whose inhabitants could be counted easily. The depot was about the biggest part of it. It was a wheat and cattle country. Not having anyway, at the time, to get to Malta, a small inland town where you had to sign up for these homesteads, he bought himself a bicycle and peddled the thirty or forty miles’ to this small inland town. He got a team and buggy there to drive fifteen miles to Sublett which was a store and post office. He looked over these homesteads. Here again was dry farm grain and grazing for cattle. It was a pretty country. My father selected a nice place of a hundred and sixty which was the amount you could homestead. It was on Shirley Creek, up near the mountains or what they call “bench land.” In the summer the rains follow these ranges of Mountains. You are more likely to get rains and more of it than you would down in the “flats” or low land. He got his homestead all fixed up, sold his bicycle in Malta and took the stage back to Burley. There he took the train for Oregon. We were all waiting with great excitement and interest for the news. Upon papa’s arrival, we talked that evening through, until quite late. He told Harry how he had picked out a nice place for him adjoining ours if they got back there before someone else signed up on it. That put us in a big hurry to go. Preparations were soon underway for that trip, by buying and packing things necessary. Father even bought a wagon, harness and team of horses. He got a box car and started storing these things in it. He bought lumber and needed stuff for two homes, one for us and one for my brother’s family.
Finally the day came when we bid farewell to our neighbors who came to wish us well. The box car was on its way. It was dark, around nine or nine-thirty, when the train we left on rolled out of the depot bound for Idaho. Harry went with the box car on account of the horses needing feed and water. Anyway we were off there were a few tears in our eyes as we headed for a strange land something none of us knew anything much about. The trip was very fascinating, with much beautiful scenery along the way. As the train rolled along I began to daydream of that little home somewhere in Idaho out among the sage brush, coyotes, cattle, and ticks. I had not dreamed much of a little mountain stream but it was there alright, running clear as a crystal and just as cold. It came from lofty ledges where it originated.
About midnight we got into Minidoka, on the main line. This was about the middle of or May 10, 1912. My sister and I were quite tickled when we saw a fellow come with a wheelbarrow to take our suitcases to the little two-story wooden structure which was their one and only hotel. There was very little at Minidoka that year except for the depot, railroad track, a cafe and several houses.
When we were taken to our room, we found just the old fashioned bowl and pitcher on a wash stand in one corner of the room. But for all, the bed was quite comfortable. We slept well and awoke with the dawn. My sister and I lay thinking and talking of what we thought the country might be like. We saw very little of it in and around Minidoka by arriving after night. Arising, we washed and dressed. Just then mother knocked on the door and walked in. She said they were all ready to go down to the cafe for breakfast.
It was rather chilly that a.m. so we slipped on light jackets and were off. As we walked in folks in the cafe seemed to be staring at us. The waiter wasn’t long asking where we were from and where bound. Father said, “Rupert, for the present.” “Yes sir,” the fellow replied, “that’s going to be a fine country one of these days.” “What do you mean, one of these days,” father asked. “Well,” he said, “it’s new and they sure have lots of wind and jack rabbits but they got plenty of water. One day they’ll lick those obstacles.” “Well that’s fine” father replied, “but we are going out about fifty miles from Rupert in a wheat and cattle country soon as we can build two houses out there.” “You going to get some land through Uncle Sam, I judge.” “Yes,” father said. “You don’t look like that kind of a family,” he replied as he picked up his tray of dirty dishes and left. Father paid the bill and we went back to the hotel, packed our suitcases and came down stairs into the small but neat waiting room. Once more the man with the wheel barrow appeared, loaded our suitcases and was off to the depot with us walking behind and here we sat on the long seat waiting. The train was late that morning. It seemed hours that we sat there when it was only a short while until the train came steaming in. The three train men headed for the little cafe while the passengers and freight was being loaded. Here we sat straining our eyes, looking at the vast desert that stretched for miles into nowhere, so it seemed. Again we began to wonder, was this where we wanted to live, this somewhat forsaken country where the winds blew at will shifting the sands and the mournful cry of the coyote that fell on your ears at dusk and daybreak. Finally we consoled ourselves that where we were going would never be like this.
We had not long to wait now. The conductor was calling all aboard. The bell was clanging, then the whistle gave two sharp toots and the train started out and we were off, still gazing through the window at the glare of the morning sun on the sage and the silence of the desert. Here and there a jack rabbit scampered away as the train whirled up the dust in passing. It was so dry it seemed to make our faces burn for we were used to that moist Portland, Oregon, climate. Harry’s two children were very fussy. And mother was trying to help Ida with them. They too seemed to dislike the dry atmosphere.
Things began to look somewhat better as the train drew nearer to Rupert. Some were getting their suitcases ready as if anxious to get off. Father now was getting ours down. The train was blowing for the crossing. The conductor came through the train calling, “Rupert, next stop, Rupert,” as he went on his way. It was all dutch to us, sounded like a nice enough name, but what was it like? The train was slowing down. People with their suitcases were moving down the aisle. Father handed each of us a suitcase while he carried three and mother a smaller one. We moved down the aisle with the conductor
saying, “watch your step.” The porter, standing to one side, said “let
me assist you lady,” speaking to my sister-in-law for in her one arm Was her little son and the other was holding her little daughter’s hand tight. I could almost guess her thoughts, for if ever she needed her husband it was now. But, he had volunteered to go with the box car of freight for someone had to water and feed the team of horses. The train had gone on its way now and we were left standing on the depot platform. From the looks of those who descended, Rupert had increased quite a bit in the last few minutes. Some went one way, some another and horses and buggies were waiting for others. We stood for some little time looking in all directions. My father asked the station agent of a good place to stay and he pointed about two blocks to a wooden structure on the southeast comer of the square and said quite a lot of people stay there. All around the square were small wooden structures that May of 1912. The rooms were clean and comfortable. We were all tired and somewhat disappointed. A tent would have looked good to us right then, especially Ida with her two small children. The next night the freight pulled in and our box car of freight was shunted onto a siding. You never saw two people more glad to see each other.
Houses were small and hard to find, but father had hurried around all that next day and had finally found one that evening when the freight came in. The next day found a busy family getting our furniture moved into what would be home for us for some months to come. My father and brother lost no time in getting the lumber moved to our ranch, some fifty miles away at Sublett or in the foothills near Sublett on a little creek named Shirley Creek. Their first trip though was for my brother to go to Malta and file a claim on the hundred and sixty adjoining our place. Then the task of building the houses soon got into progress while we women folk stayed at Rupert and took in its surroundings.
We soon made friends and church people came to call. My sister and I were asked to sing in the choir and we did. We are also asked to sing solos which we did. We enjoyed going to the little Methodist church. The Baptist church found out we were Baptist. So the minister and his wife came calling. They were extra nice Eastern folks but we didn’t change. For we figured we would soon be moving to the ranch and we had already gotten acquainted with the people in the Methodist church.
My sister and I used to like to go walking around the square and shop. One morning we walked into a dry goods store. The lady who managed it came up to us and said, “you are not Idahoans.” We said, “how do you know?” She said, “from your white or fair complexions.” She then said, “you’ve come from the coast.” We said, “Portland.” She said, “I knew it. After you live here awhile you’ll lose that fair complexion.” I said, “I already have. This sun and dry wind makes my face burn.” We made some purchases then hurried to get home. The first thing I did was look in a mirror to see how much I had suntanned.
The next morning I was singing and washing the dishes when a young fellow knocked at the door to take orders for groceries and then deliver them later. I was somewhat talkative that morning and we talked for quite awhile while mama fixed out an order to give him. When he returned with the groceries we talked some more. That was the forerunner of someone else I was to meet for this party boarded at his home. Each evening he’d go home and tell him about the little girl that just moved here from Portland. The day went by and “Even tide” drew nigh. My sister was trying out a new piece on the piano, one of the last we bought before leaving Portland. It was a very pretty piece and I was just as anxious to learn it so I joined her there. As I sat thus taking in each note and sound, a melancholy feeling crept over me.
When we had retired I was still drifting and dreaming. Sleep would not come for I was once again, in my dreams, back home, my childhood home. I was turning over in my mind happenings, the old barn, skating pond, the hill where we spent so many happy hours coasting on chilly winter days, old Alice and her gingerbread that I like so well. It was evening and we had returned from school and father from work. Old Alice was putting the supper on the table as we gathered there. This was always a happy occasion for the family to discuss the happenings of the day. My mother was there at bed time roasting a pan of peanuts for us to enjoy before retiring. The mill and the steam engine that ground the com and sawed the wood. I could visualize the yard full of horses and wagons and people on milling day. The boy with the white goat and wagon and our store with its many attractive things to a child. I was once again on my pony visiting the many haunts of those early morning rides. Yes, it was all there in my dream. Now we were leaving it and the new country we moved to proved just as nice. I can hear my brother-in-law say now, “what a lovely spacious home you have. And Frank’s words in the letter I received just before moving West were, “wherever you go, I wonder if you will ever be able to entirely forget what you are leaving behind?” No, I hadn’t. I didn’t think the time would come when I ever would and most of all the little church in the Wild Wood
With its city Sunday crowd and the happy times we enjoyed there.
Somehow, I don’t know when, I drifted off to sleep. It must have been toward morning for the night was dark. And one of those Idaho dust storms seemed to come up from nowhere. The dust found its way in around the windows and under the doorsills. The house was quiet and still except for the wind.
I was awakened the next morning by the odor of fresh rolls baking. My good sister-in-law had arose early that morning to prepare and bake them, a delicious treat for breakfast. She had made up the dough the night before. I sat up in bed rubbed my eyes and hastily dressed. Breakfast was on the table and most everyone seated “Well!” they said. “Here’s sleepy head. What happened to you?” Harry and Ida’s little boy lay whimpering in his crib wanting to be taken up. Their little girl sat in her high chair without a care banging her spoon on her plate. Soon we were seated and “thanks was returned for all things good.” Truly what was on the table merited thanks, but as I gazed out of the window, the outside had not merited that much to me, yet. As I gazed the feeling crept with in me, we had made our choice, there was no turning back. We were destined to become part of this, and would be for years to come. This country of wind, dust and shifting sand, this country where we would carve out a home, would become dearer to us than any place we had ever lived before, for Idaho was a nugget in the rough waiting to be polished. And we were “Destined to go West.”

pages 76-81

That afternoon, as I planned to walk back, Pruden said, “I’ve got some time off and I’ll take Sallie and you for a drive and then go into town.” When we started out we went up a hill and continued until we were up on a very high hill. Here we stopped and took in the country. Over there said Pruden is what they call the Montana Bad Lands, only fit for grazing and not too good for that. He pointed in the distance toward an Indian reservation and the army fort about eight miles out of Havre. It really was a beautiful country, green as far as your eyes could look, but there was something lacking, houses and trees on either side of the road. Instead, the houses were miles apart and most generally built in a little valley, hidden or obscure from the road. There they would be a little more sheltered from the cold Montana winters. Its vastness was almost frightening but I loved it all. I wasn’t wanting to return East, for there was something here that drew and exhilarated one. The climate gave one a new feeling of being. It was cattle and sheep country where grain and hay were the main crops.
When we wound up in town it was dull and dreary to me, as towns always were. But my appetite was still keen from the drive and supper took on a delicious smell, coming from the kitchen, especially the rhubarb pie Ida had made from some rhubarb growing in the small garden back of the house. As we all sat down to the table my brother-in-law lost no time in complimenting her on the pie. She said, “oh go on, you act as though I had never made a pie before.” The baby, in her high chair, was growing fat and strong now. Pruden, looking toward the baby, said, “you’ve got us beat now but you wait. We’ll be having one of those sometime and I’ll bet it’ll be a boy. Anybody want to take me up on that?” Everyone was silent. Finally Harry said, “we’ll wait. Time will tell.”
After supper we all gathered around the piano in the parlor and had a good sing. Ida sang alto which always made the songs and hymns we sang so much prettier. It was wonderful, seemed like old times. It was the first time we had done that since being in Montana. For a moment I closed my eyes and we were all back home again having one of our usual good times around the piano. My two sisters played duets then Harry and two sisters played two trio pieces which were very pretty. Later on I added my bit by playing. I loved to play but I played in my own way, by ear. Everybody clapped and Said play some more. Pruden said, “play one of those ragtime pieces or better still play Frank’s favorite song, “A Hammock Built for Two, and sing it.” I did and I’ll put the words here:
A Hammock Built for Two, above the skies of blue
a boy who whispered Sue,
You’re the only little girl on earth will do.
A hug or sigh or squeeze,
A kiss floats on the breeze
as they kept on swinging
to each other clinging
in a Hammock Built for Two.

The above was the chorus. I’ll not bother to write the two verses. Father and mother were enjoying all of this to the utmost for they had a pleasant look on their faces, as they sat there with their arms around each other. These were their children grown up. They were proud of their family and their daughter-in-law and son-in-law and most of all, of their granddaughter.
It was somewhat late that night when my sister and husband started for home. A bright moonlight night but the air was still a bit chilly for June. In fact, it wouldn’t have been back home, but out here it was.
The next morning as I came down to breakfast, I overheard my parents talking and discussing the work situation. There was very little of the kind of work my father and brother did in this small sheep and cattlemen’s town. Without work my father soon became restless for he was a man that liked to be busy. Upon hearing of a considerable amount of building going on in Great Falls, father made a trip up there, found work, and rented a house. We moved up there and were soon settled in that beautiful city. It wasn’t long until father and Harry were contracting and building houses.
That summer, I still remember for we had such a nice time there going to church, parties and etc. Among the young people we met were three girls, daughters of a business man in that city. Their names were Elsie, Bertha and Constance. We went most everyplace together. Later on near neighbors of ours, a rancher’s wife, gave a party for their five boys and invited us. There we met two of their sons that we went with quite a lot that summer. Carl and Joe were very nice boys.
It was such a lovely city that my sister and I used to just like to take walks of evenings down its shaded streets. There too was a big copper smelter. Father finally got permission from some of the head ones of it to take us through. We got to see just how it was run and
copper refined. Even after our permit there were still places we weren’t allowed to go. They said just by getting a few drops of water in one of the copper molds caused the death of one man, blinded three and injured several. It was called the B& M Copper smelter. I was enjoying that summer intensely but I still missed those long pleasant walks out to the ranch on Milk River and the little white house against the hillside where my sister and husband lived. As a month and over had gone by I began to wonder how they were. Some days later a letter came announcing the birth of a fine, big boy along
in July, 1909. They gave him his father’s name bu the was nicknamed Buster which stuck with him for years. My parents were very proud of him for that was their second grandchild.
When their son was older Pruden and Sallie came to see us at Great Falls. As my brother-in-law put it they were just taking a few days leave from the ranch. They only stayed a couple of days but we enjoyed their visit so much. We told them what a fine looking son they had. “Well,” Pruden said, “he comes by it naturally. Just take a look at his father.” Then he laughed. Sallie said, “oh, yes!” Pruden went with Harry and father on the works. He thought that was something he would like to do or at least learn.
As Pruden, Sallie and little Buster left to catch the train to go back to Havre, but came back later and went with us to Portland, Oregon, we went to the depot with them and waved goodbye as the train pulled out. Then my sister and I stopped in town and did some shopping. Upon arriving home, I found the mail had brought me three letters, one from the Jim I met on the train, the Jim in Virginia and Frank in New York. They were all nice friendly letters. I put them aside to answer at a more convenient time and went to help mother with getting the evening meal. Wilhelmina sat down to play over some late songs we had purchased. They were very pretty and I was wild about learning them. One of them I knew somewhat because I had heard Carl whistling it. By listening to Wilhelmina play them I could soon learn to play them also. As the days went by I accomplished my aim. There were times that I just loved to play and sing for an hour or more.
One morning while finding nothing much to do, I was reading through a magazine and found where they wanted someone to get subscriptions to it. Thinking that was something to occupy my spare time, I started out early one morning. ‘It was then about the first of October and the mornings were rather chilly. Hurrying along from house to house I was surprised at most everyone, because at nearly every home I got a subscription to that little magazine. On my way back on one of those mornings, I met a large like lady whom I had seen passing our house quite frequently. With her that morning was her little girl about four years old with long dark red curls. She spoke and I returned the greeting. Then she paused and said, “the air is quite chilly this morning.” For a little bit I thought she was speaking of her little girl’s hair and in reply I said, “Your little girl does have beautiful hair.” She replied by saying, “yes, her hair is quite pretty.” Then I caught on. I thought to myself, she must be English for I had heard they left the “H’s” off where they should be and put them on where they shouldn’t be. I had been accused of Southern talk but this was a new turn of affair. I bid her good day and hurried on, wanting to finish my rounds for that day, then home to figure just what kind of a prize I would get. I had been sending in my subscription money and the magazine had sent me a book of the many prizes they gave. I began looking through its pages. There were dolls, roller skates foot balls and what have you. Finally when I got to the last page, there was the most beautiful set of dishes. I thought I’ll get those for my mother. Figuring up, I only had a few more subscriptions to get then I could turn the last of the money in and have the dishes sent. I danced around and hummed a tune for I was quite happy over the thoughts of what I was going to do. The time soon slipped by, and my order for the dishes had been sent.
It was getting very cold in that country and some men on the job were telling my father and brother about the new additions being added to Portland, Oregon, and all the building that was going on there so they planned to take off as soon as they finished the job they were on. My folks talked it over and they agreed if they could go where it was warmer and work most of the winter it would be better as we had nothing to lose anyway. Harry and father were finishing their last two houses and would not take on any more. Instead plans would be made for the trip. Mama agreed to sell the piano. She said we had hauled it far enough and we would get a new one when we arrived in Portland. She also parted with quite a bit of the furniture, thinking something new would look better for a change.
That day in the first part of November, 1909 arrived and we left behind a very pretty city and a host of friends. It was cold and blustery when we boarded the train for the City of Roses. I could see the pretty parks, the Margarette, The Gibson, and the one named after the famous Indian squaw, Sacajawea, that helped Lewis and Clark on some of their trips. As we hurried toward the depot, I thought of all the good times and picnics we had had there that summer. The train whistle blew, the bell started clanging and the conductor called out all aboard then the train slowly pulled out of the depot. This was a very nice trip for we went by the way of Wenatchee, Seattle, Tacoma, and Vancouver, Washington, and on to Portland. At Wenatchee the tram stopped for awhile. Here we got off during the stopover. The clouds hung so low it was almost like washing your hands in them. Outside the depot there was box after box of such big red apples. Wenatchee at that time was quite an apple country. At Seattle the train laid over long enough that we got to take a taxi and take in the city and out to the old exposition grounds. That was a nice
trip Seattle was such a pretty city. It was misting a bit as we took in the city. This was common in that country for that time of year. In fact, we found it somewhat misty the rest of the way to Portland but it was warm, grass green and flowers blooming. One could almost stand out in those mists and enjoy them like a warm shower.
We arrived in Portland the evening and went to a hotel. The next morning my father went out and bought an Oregonian paper. After we had breakfast we went back up to our rooms and started hunting a house. That very morning we found an ad saying house for
rent, mostly furnished. As mother had sold most of our furniture, that was just what we needed. Three bedrooms and bath upstairs, kitchen, dining room, and large front room downstairs and a big basement sounded just like what we wanted. My father soon had it rented and we moved in. It was a very pretty place, a half block from the end of the trolley line on Clinton Street. It was up on a hill and a lovely rolling grassy lawn with flowers and trees. Father and Harry were soon at work for there was lots of work. Soon going with us too, my sister her husband and baby son joined us there.
Around Christmas time one of the big department stores put an ad in the paper for clerks. My sister and I, having nothing to do, thought we would apply thinking we would work just until the rush was over. When it was over they asked us to stay on, out of the many girls they had hired for the rush. We worked until the first of March. The weather was getting so warm and nice outside. Wanting to have some fun and take in the pretty parks, Portland and places surrounding it, we quit.
Along in the first of April the lady that owned the house we rented made we girls acquainted with two nice Pennsylvania boys that had boarded with her for two years. She said she wouldn’t have made us acquainted with them except that she knew they were extra nice boys. That was the beginning of having a good time. My sister took to Ben and I drew Jim. That was the third Jim in my life. They were Eastern boys and we Eastern girls. They took us so many places that spring, to the large and beautiful Portland park, Council Crest, Portland’s big spring and summer resort high up on a hill overlooking the city, to Oregon City and through the paper mill so we could see how paper was made. We really enjoyed that spring.
In the meantime, father and Harry built two houses for one man and five houses as big as the one we lived in for another man. Along in the last of May my sister-in-law got word some of her relatives were quite sick. She cried a lot about it and was so homesick for them and home. So in the first of June, 1910, we stored our furniture and stuff and went by the Sunset Route that took us down through California. We started out from Portland going by Salem, Eugene, Roseburg and Grants Pass, down into Berkeley and Oakland, California. Here the train ran on a huge ferry to San Francisco. This was a lovely trip especially those mountains we went through on the start in California. On down to Santa Barbara and Los Angeles where the train ran about a hundred miles along the ocean. That was the first time any of us had seen the Pacific Ocean. This was a trip I’d never forget. We were eight days and nine nights on this trip. In Arizona we came to the little boarded up and down depot that was called Tucson. There was nothing around it for miles but a hot, dry desert. That year the heat was almost unbearable. We saw a few burros and a dead cow now and then. At the depot a woman and her little girl got on with a basket of lunch. Said she was taking it up the line to some men who were working. A Spanish boy standing on the depot was calling out his wares which were cow’s horns, painted and carved like a fish. I was told later that the little adobe town of Tucson was bypassed by the railroad when the railroad grade was surveyed and staked out. It was back in the desert some nine or ten miles. Father stepped off the train and bought a horn from the boy, as a souvenir. Dust rolled up in clouds as the train moved on. With the sun beating down, I wondered how anything could live out there at all. It was that way much of the day making the water cooler a favorite place. Finally after some miles the train slowed to a halt. There were the men working. The lady and little girl, with the basket of lunch, got off. I looked back as long as I could. The train pulled out and gained speed.
We touched the border of New Mexico and saw the monument that marked the boundary between Old Mexico, New Mexico and Texas. On into El Paso and on through San Antonio. Things looked better now. This was a beautiful city. Then on through Huston and on we traveled. In Louisiana were those beautiful old Southern mansions and some in Alabama just as pretty. We were stopped for an hour or more in that big, quaint, old, busy waterfront city of New Orleans. We left the train and got a taxi and took in the city. It was really a sight worth seeing. Out on the edges were big old plantations, well kept and worth a lot to see. Everyone felt rested when we were back on the train again and on our way. On through Tennessee and those beautiful rolling hills of Kentucky.
We had begun to miss that wonderful, Western climate. Here it was low, hot, humid and sultry. We had lived in that kind of climate all our life, but found something different by going west.
Our friends were all glad to see us and we they but we spent most of that summer in Baltimore, Maryland. My brother, his wife and little daughter spent the summer visiting with her folks. We enjoyed where we lived a home not too many blocks from one of Baltimore’s nice shady parks. There we spent a lot of time, especially my sister and I. We took daily walks through it. Toward August the sun began to bear down and in that damp climate the heat was somewhat too warm for any comfort. We visited with our friends once more and then planned to return by September.
We took the shortest way going back that time. When we arrived, we found a nice modem, three bedroom home one block from where we lived before. We were quite pleased because it was nice and also a very pretty neighborhood. It was really a nice home and we were quite busy for a week or better getting settled. The man my father and brother had built the five large homes for our first winter in Portland was ready for them again. They lost no time in getting back to contracting and building.
The trip coming back to Portland was pretty and nice but couldn’t compare with the one we had going East. One night in California on