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.