pages 178-211

ATY 178-211

The next morning the familiar sound from the chicken house was not there to awaken the family as usual but I have a dozen young ones tried out their newfound voices. Someone managed to get a whole crow out while others cut it short. This crowing as the sun comes up at dawn is real music to a country-born person. And so the crow of the young roosters was music to our ears. But the murderous cry of a killer to the stock man was the coyote. Mother felt the same way about her turkeys too. Upon hearing the coyote about 5 AM she got up and came into our bedroom to peer out into the predawn darkness. Father got up also to see if there were trouble. Hearing nothing more he went back to bed only to rise again at six to build the fire in the kitchen range. Soon the household was awake. Jim had gone out to feed and harness the horses while I helped mother with breakfast. Soon we were all seated. Mothers muffins seemed more delicious than ever that morning.

It was one year and almost 2 months now since we had come to this valley to live in our home father had built some months before on Shirley creek with hills to the north, south, east and west of us. We settled into battle the elements and wage war with nature, to raise grain, and have a garden as part of our sustenance. Life was kind to us and we did enjoy all of it, for neighbors said father‘s garden couldn’t be beat. The vegetables that grew there could very well have taken prizes at county fairs. Mother was proud of her accomplishments by filling the cellar with nourishing canned goods for winter, the cellar father had dug in the hillside. Mother also was proud of her turkey and Goose crop. Father of his one hundred acres of wheat to be harvested the following summer, and a nice team of horses. Brother too,  had made great strides and progress in the same manner. We had made lots of friends, people that lived there all their lives and those who had come to the valley about the same time we had. Mother had her chickens for eggs and eating. Our home was meager but comfortable with its three bedrooms, kitchen and large front room but not like our very large home in the southlands with its five big bedrooms, double parlors, large reception hall, dining room, big kitchen, winding front stairway also back stairway, up and down front porch two back porches, thirty-two glass windows and three glass doors and mother's hired help in the home where one could hear the roar of the Atlantic ocean on calm nights.  The sigh of the winds in the pine trees, the nice summer resort at Virginia Beach where we took our friends and because father was the contractor and builder at the resort we and our friends rode the many different amusements free. We had fun riding horseback and on the racetrack as well. We had our beloved Baptist church in which we sang in the choir and play the piano or organ for church and Sunday school. There are numerous poems from six to twelve or more verses that I (178) recited for the different occasions. We three sisters sang lovely songs for church parties and other doings. There springtime and summer with its new mown hay and the sweet melodious voice of the Whippoorwill singing so sweetly at evening tide. I loved to ride horseback too, and on the corner of our eighty teaming with wildlife. They scattered and scurried here and there as I rode among them. The rabbit hurrying away with only his white tail visible. Here the red squirrel, chatting noisily, flying from limb to limb with his bushy tail behind him.

My girlfriend, Ethel, met me in the driveway for long talks, thinking my folks wouldn’t want me to associate with her because her father was an alcoholic. Frank, a New York boy, who thought it fun to buy new pieces of music and play them over several times so I could learn to play them by ear. All this and more from the beautiful southlands of my dreams where I was born and raise until I was sixteen. I would sometimes become homesick, as I rode horses back over these everlasting hills that ages ago had been left here in Idaho. The hills that I found beautiful and loved from the day I saw them. This country that seemed to grow on one and become a part of you. Its hills and valleys, cattle and grain fields and the mountain streams, bubbling from the hillsides, flowing cool and pleasant to drink, that farmers used for irrigating, where cattle grazed from hill sides, the big valley below them in the mountain-like hill south of our home that always seem to beckon me. I acquired a deep pleasure from accepting the challenge. There were days and weeks that went by with nothing to do but stay indoors with a book by a cheery fireside, play the piano and sing while looking and waiting for someone or maybe a long letter from my friend while the snow covered the valley and Shirley Creek flowed on to its destination beneath its ice crusted top. This was new and strange to us but oh so enchanting and to enhance a lover of nature. There was the big outdoors, the cry of the coyote from a distant heel echoing against the canyon walls, his stealthy, sneaking way about obtaining food as he went slinking along through the snow with more often than once rabbit tracks in the snow just beyond or signs were a bird had fluttered from the bush upon hearing his approach.

All this and more to us was Idaho, already here and waiting our arrival. It mattered little for we had become a part of it. As mother and father had often said, “make the best of whatever situation you happen to be in.” 

Father came home early the next day and taking his gun went up on the hillside above the choke cherry orchard a while later we heard the gun go off twice and he returned with two young sage hens. He stopped at Shirley Creek, cleaned and dressed them. Mother went down and bought brought them to the house, then a immersed them in salt water before cutting them up to fry for mother went all out to fix an extra good supper that evening for it was to be my last (179) one at home for a while. The next day would be our wedding day October 4, 1913, almost a year since we had become engaged.

The clouds hung low over the mountain peaks that next morning making an overcast in the valley. About ten, when we were ready to leave, the sun broke through the clouds shining brightly, we put our suitcases in the buggy and said goodbye to Wilhelmina.

We then drove down by the garden where father and mother were harvesting the last of their potatoes for storing. We stopped and talked for a while. Then father wiping from his eyes a tear or two with the back of his hand said “be good to her, Jim." Mother took the corner of her big apron and dabbed at her eyes and said “Yes be good to her Jim. “My heart began to well up within me. Home ties were being severed. I was going now to my own home and the two most wonderful people in the world who had done so much for me even to denying themselves that I could never repay. They waved and we continued to wave until it was of no use.

Soon we were out of the canyon and on top of the hill and here we paused and waved and they in turn waved but neither saw the other wave. Driving on my heart became heavy and the tears ran down my cheeks regardless. While trying to brush them away, Jim put his arm around me, drawing me closer to him saying, “Honey, this is our day, for better or worse as long as we shall live." Then squeezing me closer he said, “Let’s be happy. Now smile, that’s it. Now a big one."  We kissed each other and laughed together. Jim pulled on the reins and Beauty took off on a fast trot over the winding narrow road through the sagebrush heading for Albion, Idaho a distance of 30 miles. (180)

PART III The Salt of the Earth

We were off to fulfill our promises, to perform a duty to last a lifetime. Beauty seem to take on more speed than usual, as though she wanted to get us there. We were now passing by the little country school house and then through Sublett. Turning to our right we were on the road to Malta, Idaho. Beauty began to sweat a bit as we drove along into the dry, dusty greasewood flats between Sublett and Malta. Jim held her down a little so we could enjoy this somewhat cool but sunny October 4 in the year of 1913. We met or saw no one on the fifteen mile trip to Malta except people in the fields near Sublett and some cowboys riding at a distance. Off on another road we saw a lone man with team and wagon. The wagon, from our viewpoint, was loaded with sacks of grain. Evidently he was hauling it to Declo or Burley elevator.

We turned a corner and crossed a small bridge over Raft River. We were not far from Malta. The road was much better. Jim consultant his watch. It was now eleven-thirty. He said, “We'll stop here at this small restaurant to eat our dinner for we will have another 15 mile drive before reaching Albion, Idaho.

“The time went by fast as we drove along for soon we were in the little desert town with ten or a dozen homes at most and not very close together. We drove up to the water tank. Beauty drink and we tied her to the hitch rack a few feet farther with a couple of other saddle horses. We then gave her some oats.

It was five minutes to noon. When we walked in, the lady, whom we knew well, walked over to our small table. Two Cowboys at another table stared in our direction.  I guess we did look a bit conspicuous, all dressed up in a cowboy town. Jim had on a new blue serge suit, white shirt, tie and shiny new shoes. My fall hat was a pretty ribbon pink and white one. It gave me a coquettish look. My white raised flowered voile dress, which was the style then, had a large wide yellow ribbon sash tied in a pretty bow in the back. The dress was nice and somewhat expensive. It looked well on me so I (183) liked it.  Underneath I wore a white slip of taffeta silk. This made the dress rustle when I walked. My extra high topped shoes buttoned up the side and laced with a wide shoe string up the middle from the ankle to the top and tied in a bow were the newest thing in shoes. What made me provoked though, was that the dresses were so long those days that the pretty shoot bows didn’t show. My stockings or hose were white and thin. My coat was a maltese collar with a very large rounding gray silk collar, and a big wide grey silver belt, and deep high silk cuffs on sleeves. I had liked it from the moment I put it on.

The café lady just stared for a moment or two at us. She said “what’s all this hurrying around about?"  “oh, we are just here on business,"  we said. As she went back where the waitress was we could see her whisper something to her and when she brought our dinner to us she said, “You right sure this is just business?" We said, “Sure."

As we drove off over the road to Albion I thought about marriage being a business and a very serious one.  We hadn’t exactly fibbed.

Beauty stretched out into a good steady trot. We would soon be on the uphill climb. In fact, we were now. This was all uncultivated ground, mostly pasture and cattle in numbers could be seen scattered far and wide over the area. The more upgrade we went, the chillier it became. We had a warm fur lap robe and a white canvas over the back of the seat

Beauty kept to a steady trot. We were making some headway. We had met no one since we left the little town. The drive was getting cooler and would be until we crossed the mountain range. Jim held Beauty down to a walk to rest her for a while. There were heavy clouds ahead. As we drove into them, we found they were laden with snowflakes. Here we pulled the canvas up over our shoulders I finally pulled it up over my hat, holding it up with my hands to prevent spoiling it. Beauty was off onto a trot again, as though wanting to get out of this. The higher we climbed, the more snowflakes fell and the colder the drive became, until at last we reached the summit and started down. There were beautiful stately fir trees as we made the last grade. We soon out ran the snow, leaving it on the summit behind us.

Albion was our goal and had by now covered half the distance of the 15 miles. The days were shorter. The sun was already slipping down so that when we finally did reach there the dusk of evening had settled over the town. We drove down its main street to the livery stable to get Beauty taken care of and put up for the time we were there. Jim assisted the man in unharnessing and saw to it that she was rubbed down and blanketed before being watered and led back into a stable with oats and hay. The man at the barn was the first person we had seen on the whole fifteen mile trip from Malta to Albion. Of course it was evening and somewhat cool for October (184) when we arrived, so most people were indoors by that time in this small mountain hamlet. Jim asked the man where we could find the Methodist parsonage. He stopped, as though stunned for a moment, then said, “You young folks looking for a minister to marry you?" “Yes," Jim answered. Then the man went into details of telling just where we could find the Methodist minister‘s home. We followed his directions right to the point for this was the first time we had seen or walked down the streets of this small inland town.

We first went to the hotel, a two-story wooden structure, where Jim signed up for a room and left our suitcases. They gave him a key and told us the number of the room which was to the right at the end of the hall upstairs. A maid took the suitcases up to the room. After getting rid of them, we went in search of the minister. We walked several blocks and knocked at what we thought, from the description we had been given, was the Methodist parsonage. A tall thin-like man answered the door. “Yes,"  he said, “I am the one you are looking for." He invited us in and asked us to have a seat, saying his wife was away and he’d have to go next-door to get two neighbor ladies as witnesses.

After waiting sometime, the elderly, nicely dressed ladies came in. Then the minister asked if we were ready. We said, “Yes." We then arose and stood before him while the two witnesses sat nearby. It was 8 PM, October 4, 1913.  It was a single ring ceremony. I was somewhat scared and did not remember all the words he said, except where we said the "I do's"  and when he pronounced as man and wife. Jim slipped the ring on my finger and we kissed. One of the ladies asked if I played the piano. I said that I did. They thought it would be nice if we sang a hymn or two before we left. They seem to enjoy it so much we sang several. Thanking us, the minister said “You are the first couple we’ve had to stay this long with us."  We smiled and thanked them, as the minister accompanied us to the door saying good night.

It was 9 PM when we arrived back at the hotel and contacted the lady that ran it to see if we might have a lunch. We hadn’t eaten since our dinner at Malta. She said the hired help was asleep, but she’d see what she could find. We went in and sat down at a table to wait. Finally she came with a glass of water each and some dishes.  Then she brought an apple pie, dish of apple jelly, bread and butter. It wasn’t too bad for a late lunch but the apple pie I think was the sourest pie we had ever eaten. What kind of apples they were, we could have never guessed. We thanked her and Jim paid her.

We started for our room. The fellow at the desk said, “I’ll have to have the lady sign too. “I had never written Mrs. to my husband's name. To this day I can see how awful it looked.

We then made our way up the wooden stairs to our room on the right at the far end of the hall. It seemed as though we had just gotten (185) to sleep when we heard the maid sweeping and cleaning in the hallway. It was then six-thirty a.m.  She told us the night before that breakfast would be served from six-thirty to nine. Thinking the maid would like to clean the room, we arose, washed, combed our hair and dressed.

I put on a pleated cream color cashmere skirt and a new style white jacket and blouse with box pleats and belt. The outfit had a sporty look I always liked.

We were about ready when the maid tapped on the door and said if we were going to breakfast now, she would clean the room.  We hadn’t more than seated ourselves, when a waitress came with buckwheat cakes, eggs, sausages and coffee. She seemed to have brought us an extra amount we thought. Perhaps because we had had so little supper or because it was Sunday morning.

After breakfast we went to the lobby for a while, visiting with some of the other folks who had spent the night there also. Some were ranchers who had come quite a distance to do trading and so forth. They had spent the night and would start back that day. Some were men who boarded their steady and worked for ranchers or people around the town and one was a salesman.  Jim liked to visit so we spent some time there.

Then I went upstairs to put on my coat and we went for a walk. The air was brisk and a bit chilly. The normal school girls and boys were taking in the town too. Some were in groups, some single file and any number of them walking hand-in-hand. Some even had books, as though they planned to find a warm nook someplace to study. The most predominant thing I noticed about them was there bobbed hair for that year 1913 brought in the style. Jim thought I might look well that way. I said, “You are forgetting I am married now."   It did look to becoming to some of the girls but others I just didn’t know.

We continued to walk, not knowing anyone, enjoying the scenery and fresh mountain air. After some time, we did run into a man we knew, a Rupert fellow. He spoke and shook hands saying that he had come over yesterday on business and asking if we were here on business also. We said we were. He went on to say he had read in the Rupert paper where we were married at my home on Shirley Creek one week ago this Sunday. To that we said nothing, changing the subject to other things. Jim asked how things were around Rupert and how certain farmers came out on their crops and if the wind blew as much as ever. He said to Jim, “You know, I think you’ll do all right on that homestead you have over on Shirley Creek. I know a lot of fellows who wish they had one. They think irrigating costs too much."  "That might be so,"  Jim replied, “but you are always sure of a crop that way."  He then said as we parted a knew fellows who had been over there and think it’s a very good country. Well we think so too and here we started back to the hotel. (186)

The normal school girls and boys still gathered in bunches, laughing and talking, others we saw dressed in their best on their way to Sunday school and church. Cowboys and their girls on horseback and some in wagons and buggies driving through the streets. In the last hour or so, the little town seemed to have come alive this October Sunday morning. It was evident that the nights had been a bit frosty of late from the fall leaves that added a touch of color and beauty to the atmosphere. We walked hand-in-hand back to the hotel.

We then went up to our room to get ready for dinner. The maid had left the room neat and clean. Since we had a half hour or better before dinner we sat down to plan whether to start back that afternoon or stay over and go back in the morning. We had not come to any conclusion when we heard them announcing dinner. The roast beef dinner with cake and homemade ice cream for dessert was very good. After the meal was over, we went back to our room and sat talking still not quite sure what we would do.

Later down into the lobby and then another walk, speaking and talking with people that seemed friendly and when evening came on and the sun started to set, I said, “ Why spend another night here when we can just as well be home when morning comes instead of here

After supper Jim paid the clerk and we checked out, went to the livery stable and the man hitched Beauty to the buggy. As we got in,  the man said, “pretty dark night to start out, isn’t it?" “Yes," we replied, “but we know the way and the moon will be up after awhile." 

The moon didn’t come up or if it did, the clouds obscured it from view. There were times when it would partially come to view for a second or two. The warm sunny-like day had brought on a cloudy night and a storm was in the making. We found this out when we came near the summit again for the snowflakes were still falling there. Beauty really took off as though she wanted to get us home before the storm broke, but Jim held her down for we still hadn’t reached the little town of Malta. We had a better time going back then coming, getting out of the mountains and the big spruce trees. 

Now in the flats we had not seen or met anyone since we left Albion. There was a dead quiet stillness and the only noise, other than the buggy wheels and Beauty's feet where the bawl of a cow occasionally in the distance, and the yap, yap of a coyote. There we were in the dark of night alone, and a horse that knew the road whether we could see it or not, when finally the moon broke through shining down on the long road ahead of us like a guiding light. In that time two deer crossed in front of us and finally a coyote sneaking along hunting something to prey on. Now and again a jack rabbit, sometimes a half dozen, scurried across the road. It seemed good to just be able to see animals. Nothing disturbed Beauty. Her one aim was to keep to the road trotting right along. Here we were about halfway between the mountain town of Albion that we had just left( 187) behind and Malta, the little desert town ahead of us, or in the middle of nowhere.

I had heard of couples wanting to be alone on their honeymoon, if ever a couple was alone and in the dark of the night, we were and this was our honeymoon.

There were no electric lights in Malta that year. The little town was as dark as the desert except for dim light that shone through window panes. One would hardly know they were passing through in the dark silence, except that the moon broke through the clouds again as we were halfway through the one main street. Nearing the last house, a man stepped outside the door as he heard Beauty's hooves and the crunch of the buggy wheels going by. He stood in his doorway with hands over eyes peering out at us.

We had made the first fifteen miles and now we had another before we would be home. But still we thought we had done the right thing. The worst was over for we knew every foot of the road through these grease wood flats and on to Sublett. Beauty had hardly slackened her pace on the whole trip except when Jim held her in. Halfway across the moon clouded over again and a few drops of rain fell, mixing with the dust of the buggy wheels. We just had an open buggy and were in hopes the rain would hold off until we got home.

Coming to good Land and houses, soon we would be passing Sublett. Here was the bridge over Warm Creek. A couple of dogs ran out to bark at us when we passed. There was the post office and on farther, another home and more dogs. This began to take on a home-like atmosphere. We were feeling pretty good now even if it had begun to rain, just three miles from home and Beauty seem to add a little more speed to her already fast gait

The little school house was to our right. Here Beauty didn’t want to turn off on the road going to our place. She wanted to keep on the road that went to my folk's home where she had stayed all summer and left from that morning, but she obeyed the pull on the reins.  I too felt the same as Beauty. When Jim got out to open the gate to drive to our home, the rain came down faster. He then drove up to the door helped me out and gave me a match to light the lamp. He brought in the suitcases and lap robe, then drove out by the hitch rack to unhitch Beauty put the blanket on and gave her a drink of water. Then fed her oats and hay.

Jim dashed for the house with the rain really coming down, saying, “We made it just in time."  He looked at his watch and said, “It’s straight up 12 o’clock. Beauty didn’t do too bad." “Yes," I said, “I think she knew the rain was coming. This was why she kept trying to go faster."

All that night we could hear the rain running off the eaves. What a blessing to the wheat!"  “yes," Jim said, “range grass and everything." 

The next morning the valley was dripping. The sun came out for awhile, only to go back under a cloud and another shower. This went (188) on all day and when evening came, the rain came down harder and kept up throughout the night. I said, “Jim, you know what? This will keep the folks that were going to chivaree us away." Jim had bought cigars and we had cookies, lemons and other things ready for them, but the rain kept up and came down harder toward evening of each day and this continued for more than a week, until we learned they gave it up. We heard they thought we would come back Saturday night and gathered at one of the neighbors until about 12 o’clock. Sunday night they did the same and then every so often would ride down to the house to see if we were there and waited until eleven-thirty Sunday night.  When it started to rain, they figured we wouldn’t be home until morning and left. The rain was appreciated in more ways than one. I was glad they didn’t get to come for I did not know just what they would do. I figured that they would bring a violin and have a dance in our front room and I would fix treats for them.

Toward the end of the week the rain seem to have run out of raindrops. Jim and I went up to my parent's home. There was his stock to be taken to our place and the trunk I had filled and left upstairs. Jim also had to gather up his clothes he had left in the downstairs bedroom. Father helped Jim bring the trunk down and fasten it to the back of the buggy. Then mother said, “We’ve missed you. Supper's about ready, stay and eat. “Glad to get another of mother's good meals, we stayed. My sister was busy helping mother prepare it so I helped by setting the table.

Seemed like we had just been away on a visit and this was still our home, but not so, we were out on our own. We had taken the big step, that of making a home of our own.  We did not belong where we once belonged except as what had been. We were now one, and with the world before us to wrest from it a living. My folks had fed and clothed me well for 21 years and one month. Now that was for my husband to do. This didn’t mean though that they would give up loving us as their own. They would still keep a certain amount of watchful care over us. After supper I helped to clean up the table, wash dishes and put them away.

Then all of us sat in the front room visiting and telling of our trip. Just before leaving for our home, we had a good old-fashioned songfest with father and mother joining in as though they were glad to have us home again. When we left they said, “Now, if there’s anything you need and we have it, you will be more than welcome to it."  Then mother said, “It’s chilly, Annie, better pull your coat up around you good for the rain has made the weather cool."  Jim said hugging me up close, “I’ll take good care of her mother."

Pulling on the reins,Beauty took off down the lane and out of the canyon and in no time was at our own gate at the top of our hill. Soon home Beauty unhitched and fed hey, Jim unfastened the trunks (189) and together we took them into the house, putting them in the downstairs bedroom where we slept. Then Jim went back to bring in an arm full of his own, mostly work clothes. I said, “We badly need a clothes closet here as well as upstairs." “Well, “Jim said, “the next time we go to Rupert, we will buy a ready-made one."  For the time being Jim put up four shelves at the foot of the bed that answered the purpose for a while.

That following week we finished the chicken house and mother gave us a few of her hens so we would have eggs. Then we started the work on the barn and while in the midst of this, Jim decided the next morning he'd saddle up Babe and ride over to a neighbor to see about buying a straw stack, freshly threshed for bedding and roughage for our stock. So near noon when he arrived, the neighbor had him to eat dinner, then the two of them decided to see another neighbor on business. In doing so, they crossed a straw-filled ditch with both horses on the gallop. The neighbor's horse made it OK, but Jim’s horse must have stepped in a hole, falling and rolling on his left leg. Breaking the big boned once and a small bone twice. Jim said as the neighbor rode back, “She did it." “Did what?"  he asked. “Broke my leg," Jim said. A neighbor lady living close by rushed out with splints and bandages, taking off the high top boots, wrapped and fixed it up while the neighbor rode on to contact the other neighbor who was driving on a fast track with a spring wagon toward Sublett. Upon contacting him, found he was in a hurry to get the Dr. at Malta. His brother had broken his arm while playing at school. Instead the two came back, help Jim in the wagon and arrived at our home about 1:30 p.m. Then they helped him into the house and on the bed. Jim was afraid to have me do anything with his leg and thought it should be left as it was until the doctor came.

But the Dr., as usual, was a good many miles someplace else and did not get to the neighbor boy until about midnight and much later to our home. Several of the neighbors came over and waited to help. When the Dr. arrived, I gave him hot coffee and cake. Jim called to him and said “Doc, will it do any good to keep it bandaged? Will it keep the swelling down?"  “No," Doc said," if it’s going to swell, it will anyway."  I had a good fire going with a tea kettle of boiling water if needed. Doc said, “that will come in handy after we get it set for hot packs above the knee to promote good circulation."  Doc took the bandages and splints off then began feeling the leg, trying to work the broken bones in place. Looking at our neighbor east of us, he said, “take a hold of his foot, and when I have these bones where I want them you pull and pull hard." He did. After some time the bones were in place with splints on, then bandages. After a while the neighbors left and the good neighbor who had brought the Doc, left with the Doc. I had begun putting the hot packs on before Doc left, he had said to me that if I were you I would use hot and then cold (190) packs, he thought that would have more effect, so I did all through the night.

they broke I was so tired I could hardly keep my eyes open. My cut wood of stove lengths had run out so I let the fire die down until daylight when I could see to cut more. I just sat after that rubbing his leg to help relieve the pain and in between the rubbings, I would fall asleep.  Jim would call my name, putting his hand on my shoulder, shaking me a bit to wake me so I would continue.

This went on for several days and nights, with his leg paining him more and more and swelling until it looked like the bandages would pop and with us trying all that time to get the Doc back again to no avail. Then about a week later he came at midnight in a pouring rain.  He looked pretty worn out and tired. After examining Jim’s leg, he said, “there isn’t anything more I can do. “He said the swelling was going down and that it was only natural for it to swell and pain some and said I had done wonders with the hot and cold packs and to continue it for several days longer.

Jim said, “Doc, it won’t be long until morning, go unhitch and feed your horses. My wife will fix you a bed and stay until morning."  I believe I will," he said starting for the door. In the meantime I had put on a big batch of chocolate fudge and it was about ready to take off and beat. I was doing that when he came back in. His comment was, “That really looks good for if there is anything I like better than fudge, it's some more fudge." I had already given him two cups of hot coffee and two slices of cake and he said the hot coffee helped to take the damp chilliness of the rain out of him. Soon the fudge was ready. I took a large plate of it into the bedroom where he sat talking to Jim.  When I came back from fixing his bed, that plate of fudge looked mighty empty. I announced that his bed was ready and he might retire if he wished. He said he thought he had better and turning to me said, “Jim’s leg is getting all right, you go to bed and get your sleep. You look like you need it. From now on, use the hot and cold packs in the daytime."  That night I could tell a difference in Jim’s leg or else I was so tired I slept through any motions he might have made

I was up early the next morning to prepare breakfast. I made hot biscuits, oatmeal, eggs, coffee, bacon, butter and current jelly.  I did not call Doc, I waited for him to awaken. I had fixed Jim his tray and was taking it into him when Doc came into the kitchen. (I had fixed a bed for him on a cot in the front room.) “My," he said, “that looks wonderful." He then went to the wash stand behind the kitchen door where I had a mirror and comb and freshened himself up. While Jim atet from his tray, Doc and I sat down to the table to eat. Upon finishing he said, “That was certainly a good breakfast."  Going into the bedroom where Jim was and asked if he had a pair of crutches. “Yes," I answered. “Father has a pair of cherry limb crutches." (191)  "Well that will be just fine. Have your folks bring them." “I’ll go up and get them," I answered.  Doc went on to say, “You’ll be able to get up and around some with the aid of crutches."  Then he thought he should be going, saying, “If you have to have me, I’ll be out this way again."  He hitched his team and was soon up the hill and gone.

I did not have to go for the crutches. Before I had gotten the breakfast dishes done, father came with them and said he thought Jim would be needing them, for in his youth he had had his leg broken twice and knew what it meant to have something to lean on, especially, when the loaded wagon rolled over his foot that night he was coming through the gate and our first night at our home on Shirley Creek. That next morning Jim and I had gone to the wild choke cherry orchard to cut the limbs and help dad make his scratches from them

Father sat talking to Jim as I got out his clothes. When he was dressed he sat up on the side of the bed. Father and I helped him to stand up and with his crutches under his arms he went out in the kitchen and then into the front room where I had a good fire going. He said it seemed good to be able to get around that much. Father stayed a while longer, then left saying they would help anyway they could and that he and mother would come again tomorrow. He was walking and he went back down the road along Shirley Creek, the way he had come.

I closed the door, going back into the room and helping Jim to sit down in his rocker, handing him a book he had been reading. When finally he said, “I wish I hadn’t stayed with our neighbor for dinner and maybe this wouldn’t have happened." I said, “ it probably wouldn’t have."  I went on saying that when you left you said you would be gone only a short while and when I had dinner ready and you still didn’t come, I began to wonder what could have happened. When I saw a spring wagon drive in the yard with your saddle horse tied behind and then the man helping you out, I couldn’t quite guess what until one of the men said the horse fell and rolled on you breaking your leg. I was almost speechless, wondering what to do."  Then Jim broke in saying, “It’s going to be all right. It feels good now." I helped him get it on a chair to take the weight off of it. While I went about my housework, he read to me from the book. A hill country story a little like where we were living and very interesting.

Every so often I would replenish the fire for it burned out fast in our little sheet iron stove. This had to be done to keep our home warm for the days were on the chilly side. We did not have the mountains for shelter as our folks did.  The fellow that was rubbing brush for us and lived over on the north was still working away. He came at noon to see how Jim was and to tell him of his progress with the sage. I had dinner about ready so he sat down and ate with us. It seemed good to have Jim eat at the table again with me and to ask the (192) blessing. It seemed funny just married and having to stay awake to care for a husband with a broken leg where I had very little care or worry before marriage. Life was always something I took lightly, leaving the cares for others, looking on the brighter side, so I was pretty happy when Jim could get around on crutches, even if they were made from cherry limbs.

The days went by and each day Jim could get around a little better. I would get out in my spare time and cut wood into stove lengths until I had a big pile close to the house and continued to as long as it was nice enough to be out (for our two stoves devoured it pretty fast) against that time of storms and always kept our wood box in the house filled.

October went out like a roaring lion, a high wind with a driving snowstorm that kept up throughout the day and night. When I saw it coming I got a canvas to cover the pile of wood so I would not have to dig it out of the snow. It lasted for a couple of days and just as quickly was gone. The sun came out warm with a calm stillness, as only you can be in this valley and the snow vanished, leaving the bare, damp, black earth, for this ash soil was rich and dark in color. Our stock had sought the hills along Shirley Creek for shelter from the storm for Jim had not gotten his barn built. He had planned a bank barn also for just such storms. The days continued to be warm and sunny.

When Sunday came Jim’s leg was feeling so good that I hitched Beauty to the buggy and we went up home. We always called it going up home as they were higher up that we. They were glad to see us. It seemed ages since we were there and oh! so good to get home again.

Mother's dinner tasted like something out of this world. I was so tired of my own cooking and I know Jim enjoyed it for he patted mother on the shoulder and told her just how good everything was. She looked up at him, smiled as usual, and said “Oh, go on."  I helped clear away the table, wash and put things away. We sat talking and visiting until evening. It just seemed like we didn’t have much desire to go home and mother seem to sense it, when finally she said, “Jim, you and Annie might as well spend the night with us." I guess that was what we wanted to hear so we said, “We'd just like to." Father went out to take care of Beauty and saying when he came in “Beauty is in the barn, and it’s going to be a pretty nippy night."

Those old mountains did look cold and forbidding, but this was home, my folks were here. We were not alone and the warmth of home one could feel. We were all together again, it was like going home after being gone for a while, for I had learned to love this home in this valley with its sheltering mountains and hills. The main thing though my parents were here,  with whom I had lived with and loved for 21 years, and I think Jim felt about the same for they had (193) been so good to him. Mother came into the kitchen to warm up the leftovers from dinner. It seemed good to help her and soon it was ready and we were once again all sitting around. Father bowed his head to return thanks and the food was passed. Mother had put on a small dish of honey for a change and when it was passed my sister's friend said, “This is sweet honey."  We didn’t know just which way he meant it, my sister smiled, and we all laughed saying after that “Please pass the sweet honey,"  and finally it got to be a by-word. 

Darkness soon settled over the valley and time went by. My sister saw her friend to the door and he was gone out into the night. Mother replenished both stoves, somewhat banking them for the night and closing the draft to try holding the smoldering fire as far into morning as she could. Quaking Aspen was pretty good to hold. Then I heard father come down the stairs at daybreak to fix up the fires so the house would be warm when the household arose. About an hour later, mother came down to start the breakfast. Hearing her stirring during around, I dressed and came out to help her, "You didn’t need to get up, Annie," she said.  Soon Jim came out, “Well," mother said, “I didn’t mean to wake you up too, Jim, but I guess I am pretty noisy in the kitchen."  "No," said Jim,"  "I had been awake for quite a while."  “Your leg bother you much?"  She said. “some," he said as he steadied himself on his crutches, then went into the front room to sit down and read.

Father came down and went out to feed and care for the stock and mother's poultry. Mother's breakfasts always good took on an added goodness that morning. Mother asked Jim to return thanks and we were all touched and blessed by it for it gave us a thought for the day. After breakfast father hitched Beauty to the buggy and after mother had put quite a few things in for us, we were off for home, waving, saying goodbye and thanking them. The coolness of the early morning was giving way to the warm rays of the sun, as we drove along seeing some of our neighbors, spoke and waved to them. Soon we were at our gate. I opened and closed it, as I had the other two and here we were home.

Jim leaning on his crutches, helped me some with unhitching Beauty, taking the things from the buggy, mother had given us, we went in the house, putting them on the table. Soon I had the fires going. The house had a chilliness like no one had lived there for a while. The warmth from the two stoves soon removed this atmosphere. It then seemed homey, for Jim sat down in his rocker to read and I to fix dinner while he read to me from the continued story and when dinner was ready, I fixed a tray and set it on his lap for his leg still was in the cast and was on a chair to take the weight off of it. I sat in the other rocker with my tray. I returned thanks and there we sat eating in the warmth of our own home, which seemed pretty nice for this was our home and would be as long as we wanted it to be. (194)

Toward evening I went out to feed the chickens and throw some hay to the stock and then refilled the wood box. It was nice out. The sun would set clear and soon this day would be over. Taking the eggs from my pocket, put them in a box on the cupboard and told Jim the stock looked all right. I then replenished the stove with wood for the fires had died down some, at supper. We both ate from the library table father had made for us in the front room. Here it was cozy and comfortable with our little sheet iron stove. Jim sat reading out loud until late when I sat nodding in my chair and he said, “We better retire."  As we did so we could hear a coyote's howl, sounding like he was right by the chicken house. I lit the lantern and went out just to make sure I had fastened the chickens in. As I did so, something shaped like a dog dashed ahead of me down the hill to Shirley Creek. I knew at once what it was. Seeing the henhouse fastened securely, I came back, shining the light so I would not trip on my return. Jim stood watching to see that nothing happened. Blowing out the light I put it in its place, then assisted Jim in getting into bed and I retired also.

Being late, we were soon fast asleep and did not awaken until about seven the next morning, when I arose, dressed, fixed the fires, then proceeded to get breakfast. I poached eggs, browned some potatoes and cooked pancakes. We ate these with butter and choke cherry syrup which made a very appetizing breakfast. Afterword, I washed and put the dishes in the nice cupboard father had made for me.

I then picked up the broom for there was always lots of sweeping.  Our sagebrush wood was so trashy and it was hard to keep the floor clean, when putting it in the stove, but we had little else to do but cook, eat, and keep fires going, sleep, read and write. We did lots of reading. We had subscriptions to a number of magazines, and a newspaper that came once a week from Kansas City. It usually carried a continued story. When Jim’s folks sent the big box out, in it was about 10 or 12 books that made interesting reading. We made a trip to the post office and store once a week in the winter and always the days we knew our paper would be there for our mail came to this little post office by horse drawn stage from Rupert. We wrote numerous letters for mail was a welcome thing in this country. It helped break the monotony of short winter days and long cold evenings.

I missed Toby‘s barking at night to warn if something was around.  It was a friendly sound, not like the weird coyote’s howl, off in the canyon or hilltops. We planned to get us a good watch dog. Jim had a little yellow mother dog that rode back and forth with him while freighting the lumber for our house. She would always stay with the lumber, never coming with Jim to our home and Jim would see to it that she was fed there. Then on one of his many trips to (195) Rupert she got lost from him or was picked up. She used to like riding on the load of lumber and made good company.

Thus our days and evenings went. One of the things I liked to do was to write stories for contests or try to finish out a last line to a limerick or work out puzzles, when I wasn’t busy with the duties of our home which took up much of my time.

The neighbors came visiting and we visited them which was quite a source of pleasure in that country. When one went visiting usually it was a several mile trip, you could always figure they would come in the morning so as to get in lots of visiting, eat dinner with you and return to their homes in the evening. While the men folk talked and the children played, the women folks would start up a big dinner and usually something pretty good when two cooks got their heads together. There were times when we didn’t know they were coming and in that case while the water was boiling, we'd grab up two or three young roosters, cut their heads off and soon have them ready for the frying pan, but most generally when visiting, they would say, “We'll be expecting you at our home on a certain date," and in that way everything was fixed ahead of time.

One old-like couple, extra nice people, we used to visit, they had three children married, and three at home, he said whenever he went out to plow there was a bird that always seem to say, as he made his rounds turning the new sod, “Going to leave pretty soon, meat's all gone."  He would reply to the bird, “I am going to leave, too, pretty soon, if I don’t get a crop for my meat and we'll be all gone

They didn’t have as good a chance for a crop as we did. They were down in the flats a ways where our land was up in the foothills or bench land, for the rains followed the mountain ranges. We would get rains When the flats wouldn't so our spare time was used one way or another and as I said, we had friends, two to three and even ten miles from us that we knew better than next-door neighbors in town.

This was really God's country and the folks that lived there were the “salt of the earth." We had very little time for loneliness for their was always things to do or occupy one’s mind, whether it was a puzzle or getting a big dinner for friends or going on a picnic or going down in Shirley Creek Canyon to get a couple of young cottontail rabbits or a spring sage hen or two for a change in your dinner table menu. In that way, the days did not drag or be time on one’s hands as one would think. There was always the little parties at the school house.

Jim‘s folks, far away in Iowa, would save their Sunday school papers and send them to us. They gave us pleasure for the nice stories and articles always so interesting. We had a large Bible story book that we liked to read from and when I was busy Jim would read from it to me. We were doing just that one afternoon when a knock came on our door. Upon opening it there stood two men. I knew at (196) once they were missionaries from a church that we did not believe in. They soon began leading up to and trying to sell us on their faith and beliefs, but my husband knew his Bible well and could quote it and straighten them out on things they were trying to say and misquoting all the time, and saying in so many words we wouldn’t be saved unless we did join their faith. Finally I said, “ You haven’t given proof enough that we would ever be saved if we did join you. I have no faith my soul could be saved through your doctrine, then that you could put life back into a chicken after his head was cut off."  This stumped them somewhat, but still they talked on. Evening was drawing to a close, but I did not bother to prepare a meal for them for we had just figured on something light for ourselves, and we did not invite them to spend the night for they were strange man. We had never seen them before. I got a little worried when they continue to stay and not make an effort to leave until it was going on 10 p.m.  Then one of them got up saying they’d be going and I accompanied them to the door, opening it, they went out into the night. I never did learn where they stayed but the last I saw of them, they were heading for our neighbors up on the hill above us. I worried about it for some little time, wondering if we had done the right thing, for had we known them, it would have been different. But we were alone and my husband with his leg still in a cast caused me to think twice before being too hasty in the matter. I often wondered what they thought of us for I had been raised to always be courteous to others and my folks never liked to turn strangers in need away. But I couldn’t see where these strangers were in need and they didn’t just happen at our door, it was a planned affair for a personal contact that had not previously been planned between us, so I soon washed my hands of the whole deal and dismissed it from my thoughts with that they were rude not us.

The next morning my sister came on horseback to visit. We had a wonderful time together as we usually did. We planned and fixed dinner together. It seemed good to have her. She thought we had everything pretty nice for newlyweds, but went on to say, “How do you get along without a piano?  It would be nice to have one in that corner."  Of course that was the corner our piano was in at home and the corner would look empty to her for her piano and music was everything, almost a part of her very being even when younger, the piano meant more to her than any of us. I liked the piano just has a past time, but I’d rather ride horseback or read good books.

As we sat visiting we went over our trip to Albion and back home at midnight. She said, “You know that hotel you were at burned down."  “Yes," I said, “We heard about it – – just one week to the day after we were there.” I guess we were lucky when we got married the fourth instead of putting it off another week. Toward evening, she rode back along the canyon road by Shirley Creek and up the section (197) that had been fenced for a road between my brother's and father's places and our neighbors in that way there were no gates to open. This brought her right to my brother's place, then down the path and she was home.

Ten days of November had already slipped by. The trip we had planned to Rupert for supplies had not as yet culminated because of Jim breaking his leg. When we went for the mail each week we would buy what groceries we needed there. After supper that evening and a lot of reading and writing had been put away, we retired around 9:30 p.m., only to be awakened an hour later by the yodeling voice of my brother coming back from Rupert. He had gone the day before to lay in their winter's supply of groceries and to see just when they would want mother's turkeys and geese. When traveling alone, and after dark, he had a habit of yodeling to keep himself company. He could really yodel pretty, about the prettiest I had ever heard. It seem to sound even more beautiful than ever as we lay there listening to it floating over the tops of the sagebrush in the calm of the night. He was happy because, though his horses were weary, he is would soon be to that little home on the hillside shrouded in the darkness of midnight hours where a wife and three children awaited his return. We drifted off to sleep as the yodeling died away with the descent into the canyon did not awaken until early morning.

When I arose to fix the fires and set yeast for the day's baking, making it into a stiff dough, after it had worked for some length of time, next was breakfast. I fixed gems or muffins, with whole cracked wheat  that had to cook slowly for a half hour, fried eggs and made Postum, the old-fashioned kind you boiled like coffee, only fuzzed out of the top of the pot much easier, with apple jelly, butter, cream, and sugar, then we were ready to sit down. Jim returned thanks for what had been provided for us and we felt thankful in our hearts as we partook of it. Our table sat in front of the large kitchen window which I liked because we could see to the top of the hill, if we were having company for the day or what the weather was like outside.

That morning it was a bit windy, and we could see the big dry thistles broken loose from other wind storms come drifting and tumbling end over end, over the hill and down into our valley and on below our home into Shirley Creek Canyon where they would lie until a spring freshet or cloudburst would dislodge them, sending them drifting down into the flats below where they would again roll and tumble, seeding  the ground for spring rains to bring them to life, making pasture for the range cattle in the fall.

It wasn’t a pretty picture to us that morning for Jim didn’t like having our valley seeded in that kind of weeds.  But that window was a source of pleasure to us as we sat eating our meals.  Jim‘s leg was getting much better now and he could get around on his crutches easier. After I had washed the dishes and put them away, I (198) proceeded to sweep, dust and straighten our bed.  Since that day was not stormy, I went out to cut more sage wood to add to our pile as I did other days against a time of storm. Then I fed the chickens and threw the stock some hay. I return to the house after being out in the fresh air some length of time. I found my dough was ready to be made into rolls and loaves. Then I sat down to relax and rest for a while after replenishing both stoves with wood.

An hour or so later found the rolls and loaves I had put in the pans, ready to bake so stirring up the fire adding more wood, slipped the rolls and loaves into the already heated oven. After making off the loaves, I found I had made enough for an extra loaf. When the bread was ready to be removed from the oven, I wrapped the extra loaf separate and going out, hitched Beauty to the buggy and took the loaf to mother. I wanted to show her how well I was doing on my baking. Before I even got to the house I could smell the Quaking Aspen smoke from their chimney. I love the smell of it, made one think of camping out. Toby was the first to greet me, he seemed overjoyed as though I was coming back to stay, and it did seem good to be home. My brother and his family were there, my sister-in-law was wearing a new house dress her husband had bought her while in town and they all seem so happy.

Mother was quite pleased with the loaf of bread and thought I was doing well with my baking. My brother, seeing me hand it to mother said, “she brought that for me,“ for he loved freshly baked light bread. My sister in law said, “You'd think I never bake any bread for him." Mother said, “He is still a boy at heart and always will be."  Father was busy building crates to take mother's turkeys and geese to market in.  I asked mother if Toby and the gander had had any more episodes or entanglements. “No,"  my mother said, “we watch them pretty close since the old gander so near lost his life in the last mix up."  When I was ready to leave, my sister said she would ride home with me if I would bring her back again towards evening so she got in and we were off.

Beauty trotted right along and we were soon there.  Jim was still sitting reading and had neglected the fires so I filled both stoves with wood and the house was soon warm and comfortable. Finally Jim looked up from his reading saying, “What took you so long. It’s lonely here alone."  Then he said to my sister, “I didn’t know we had company.  I wish we had a piano for you to play and sing for us.”  Well, we had no piano, but I got out our hymn book and believe it or not, we went clear through it picking out and singing those we knew, which was quite a songfest and what with visiting, the time soon rolled around. I had not unhitched Beauty, just tied her to the hitch rack with a blanket on her. I said to her as we left that if the evenings didn’t come on so fast I would have had you eat supper with us." No,” she said as we got in the buggy, “Mother will be expecting me.” (199)  I turned Beauty around and we were off. As we drove along a dog was barking lustily in answer to the cry of a coyote off in some ravine. A jack rabbit with his long ears and legs jumped from a sagebrush taking off down the middle of the road ahead of us. My sister opened and shut each gate as we came to them, saying I would have to do it on the return trip.

When we reached home Toby came to meet us, more overjoyed than ever, trying desperately to make me welcome by wagging his whole body along with his tail. Mother came out with a box of good things, things she thought we needed and could eat, tomatoes, potatoes, onions, carrots, some dried corn and string beans and etc.  I thanked her and told her how much I appreciated all of it and that they couldn’t be more wonderful parents. I told her I’d have to go now, for darkness was settling in the canyon and Beauty was anxious to be home and get out of the harness. Mother smiled and waved me on as Beauty took off on a fast trot.  I was at the gate in no time, another second and we were up over the hill passing our neighbor's homes on the hill above us, then at our gate, and down the hill and home. By the time I had taken care of Beauty, fed the stock and chickens, picked up the eggs, darkness had settled over the valley. The house was dark as I open the door. Jim sat nodding in his chair, putting the box of things on the cupboard and the eggs in a box. I turned next to light the lamps, then to fix the fires that had all but died out. Jim said, “When did you get back?"  “Oh, just awhile ago. I was doing the chores,” I answered. Then I filled the wood box from my pile just outside the door, in case of a storm during the night, which windy days often brought.

As the sun's last rays disappeared from view the wind settled to a quiet calm. Our home was cozy and warm when I at last closed the door shutting out the night, but somehow, I thought I could hear the voice of a night bird crying in the canyon. It wasn’t exactly a pleasant sound.  It was a sound that seem to say you are not alone. Jim and I were alone. It was a happiness we were sharing together and perhaps in due time there would be children to share our love and home.

I now turned to fixing some supper, the fresh light bread rolls would be good with butter and wild current jelly. I warmed up some mashed potatoes, gravy and cold meat, putting it on a tray, set it down on the library table. Looking through mother's stuff she had given us, found a jar of ground mixed pickles, that seem to taste better with each bite we took, giving everything a delicious flavor.  I cleaned away the dishes and Jim read to me from the continued story until a late hour. When we retired, only to be awakened about midnight by a pebble-like snowstorm, that beat against the windows with the force of a blizzard while off on the hillside at daybreak came the lonely yapping of a coyote that continued until daybreak. (200)

We arose to a land of white where the day before the bare soil appeared and this morning as we ate gazing from the window a phenomenon seemed to have happened in the night as though someone had neatly spread a white blanket over the land covering up Nature’s bad points and mistakes hiding the hideous ones along with the good.

We were nice and comfortable in our home, alone in a world of snow with only books and magazines and best of all the Bible and a Bible story book from which we read often and with it our hopes and prayers. I felt sorry for the stock, but the foothills made good shelter and somehow the storm abated, still a bit cloudy though the sun came up and tried to shine through a hazy sky. I thought of mother and knew how glad she would be to get rid of those turkeys and geese.

As we sat talking after the chores and housework done, we heard a wagon drive into the yard. Father came in the door. He came to get Jim’s bows and canvas to go over his wagon for the trip to Rupert in a few days to deliver the turkeys and geese to those who had ordered them. We visited until father thought he should be going. I helped him to put the bows in place and then the canvas over them and tied down each side and back.  It made the wagon look like those old-fashioned covered wagons the early pioneers crossed the plains in, but they were very nice for trips in cold windy, wet weather. One could sit back in them to drive their team and be warm and dry. Father got in saying, “Now, I can make the trip in any kind of weather and tell Jim I’ll take good care of them and will return them," as he drove away.

I grabbed the axe that was handy, adding more word to my already dwindling pile near the door until Jim appeared in the doorway wondering what had become of me. “Come on in,” he said, “You’ll take cold out in the snow. Maybe it won’t be long until I’ll be able to cut it." So I chopped the axe into the end of the log and went in for the house was somewhat cold and chilly. Jim had forgotten the fires as usual so I added wood and re-fixed them, then turned to get a little dinner for the morning had slipped away unnoticed. We sometimes wondered where and how time vanished when alone with neighbors at a distance and no telephone, but we were surrounded with good literature and I needed to clean home. I never did care for housework, it seemed like a lowly job to me and never having to do any as a child for father kept help for mother in our home. Consequently I had freedom of choice and my choice was the out-of-doors under God‘s blue sky and there to enjoy the liberty of growing up. But there couldn’t be any worse thing than a dirty home unless it couldn’t be helped. I had grown up with that idea implanted in my mind by my mother who was a very neat particular person and whether she or her hired help did our housework, it had to be done (201) in the neatest, cleanest manner. When mother figured our hired help was preventing we three sisters from learning the duties of a home, she discharged the help so as to put us at it. In later life I thanked her for it, many times although I didn’t at the time. I thought she was taking away my liberty and the fun of outdoor life by harnessing me to housework. That next afternoon Jim and I hitched Beauty to the buggy to go visit in our neighbors about 160 acres below us. He wanted to see him on business as well as to visit. It did not take us too long to get there for the small log home of two large rooms came to view like a mirage in the desert long before we arrived. For when one is traveling over a vast stretch of waste land, there are always those optical atmospheric illusions by which the image of a distant object is seen only to find when you arrive at where it should have been, find it was never there at all. But this little log cabin was there and we soon drove into the yard, exceptionally friendly folks. We had hardly stopped when they pulled open the creaking door callilng, "Come in, come in," in a pleasant jovial manner. "Well we had been aiming to call on you,"  he went on, “but just haven’t gotten around to it."  He told Jim to drop the tugs and put his horse over to the hay and helped him. His wife came out in a neat clean house dress saying, “You mustn’t stand out here, you’ll catch your death of cold," and took me into the house.

They had come to this great country from an eastern hill country.  He drove the mail stage between Sublett and Rupert.  Their home had a very pleasant atmosphere and clean as a pin. Their are two oldest were at the little Shirley Creek school. The youngest were playing with homemade toys on the floor. The old fashioned churn sat on a small table for she had just finished turning a batch of butter and had left it out in a bowl working out the buttermilk then adding cold water several times to rinse out the remaining buttermilk.  On another table were loaves of bread dough and a large pan of rolls rising to bake and from the kitchen cook stove came the order of a kettle of beans boiling which seem to have an extra good smell and I thought deep in my heart as I surveyed all desk, here were people that were, “the salt of the earth.” Her floor, though only earth was very clean. 

About that time Jim and a man came in. She immediately took him to a large old-fashioned rocker then placed a homemade footstool for his broken leg. I could see Jim would be comfortable. The lady was very talkative and jolly and I knew we were going to enjoy this visit. It was not long until the older boys came home from school and their father said to them, “You know what your chores are.”  So, they wound them up by cutting wood and filled the box by the stove and as evening drew on, the delicious odor of baking bread filled the log cabin and she turned to us saying. “You are going to eat supper with us. It will soon be ready." I said, “Oh, no, we must be going." (202) “Not when my wife says we are going to eat," the man spoke up. Then the woman set the table for all of us. I put the chairs up and she said to the boys, “get the wooden bench outside for yourselves."

Soon we were seated. They asked Jim to return thanks. Then the food was passed, a large platter of rolls, a dish of fresh butter, currant jelly, a large bowl of white beans with bits of meat in it, and a bowl of cooked dried prunes. They had bought them last summer from a prune orchard at Sublett, dipped them in boiling water with a certain amount of lye in it until they looked wrinkled, then they dried them. I knew how it was done for mother had fixed some in that matter. There was a plain meal but oh! so delicious to the taste. I couldn’t help but eat too much for it seemed like the last week or so I was hungry most of the time and everything had a better taste than usual.

It was way after dark when we arrived back home, but the visit was always remembered as had been other visits we had had with other neighbors, people that were “the salt of the earth."

By the time Jim and I took care of Beauty and the hours we were gone, the home was quite chilly. When I opened the door and walked in, I had left matches handy, so soon had the lamps lit. “Shall I fix the fires?" “No, it isn’t too cold,” Jim said, “We’ll just go to bed,” glancing at the clock saw it was 9:30 PM. How fast the afternoon and evening had gone. When we had only figured on being gone an hour or so, instead it was six hours, but that was just a sample of the kind of folks one found in that country. It may have been out of the world has some people thought, but with such down to earth folks how could one help but like it. These visits we would go on always seem to call for more, but the next few days we spent writing and reading and doing odd jobs that had to be done.

When the days were real nice, Jim would go out and work an hour or so on his barn and I would help by holding or handing him lumber for he still had to use crutches, but I think I enjoyed doing it as much or more than he did. The crutches though tired his arms. The old magpie that never said much in the winter flew to a post close by and sat there jabbering away as though trying to mock or ridicule us until I picked up a stick, throwing it at him and telling him to go back in the canyon where he belonged. Giving a last "maggie" sound, he took to his wings flying away to a distant hill across the canyon from us.  In that way Jim got quite a lot done on the barn.  I also stayed at my wood cutting so in case of a storm that would last for several days we could have a fire and our house warm.

The day after tomorrow we would go for the mail again and also get what groceries we needed. This time we were lucky. Besides the regular letters and papers a large cardboard box came from Iowa. Jim’s parents had sent. We could hardly get home fast enough to open it. Something like that was always welcome. I took the groceries first to the house, then came back for the box. By that time (203) Jim had finished unhitching Beauty. He took the mail and we went to the house. My first thought was to fix the fires while Jim opened the box. In the box it was a flour sack filled with smaller sacks of dried corn, dried apples, dried peaches and a nice sized box of mother's raisin, oatmeal, sorghum cookies and did they taste good, so much so we had just had to keep tasting them. I had made several batches of cookies which we liked but none had that good old sorghum flavor. I think one reason they tasted so good to Jim was his mother had made them. It was going on three years now since he had left Iowa to come to Idaho.

 Father had got back from taking mother's turkeys and geese to market and that afternoon brought the canvas cover and wagon bows back. He came in while we were enjoying all this to thank Jim for the use of what he had borrowed. He thought that was nice the Iowa folks had been so thoughtful of us. He told how he and my brother had finished the last job they had taken on and said they had a large barn to build for a fellow the other side of Malta and wanted to work at it whenever the weather permitted and said they had a small house with a stove they could camp in.  Jim said, “Father, as long as you are going to take on that job, just keep the canvas and bows, I will not be needing them for some time."  Father thanked him and I help put them back on the wagon. Then he drove away.

 It was then toward evening so I did the chores, fill the wood box, fed the hens and picked up the eggs, going in the house, put wood in the stones, took the lamps down, lit one for the kitchen, then put one on the library table. By that time Jim wanted to know if we would be having some supper after a while. “Sure, are you hungry too?" I opened the cupboard to see what might be left there that I could start with, deciding on just some fruit, bread, butter and a couple of soft fried eggs each with tea. Soon had it fixed and placed on a tray. We ate again from the library table in our living room. It seemed more cozy and warm there of evening where there was just the two of us. After we had finished this nourishing repast, Jim read again from the delightful continued story while I cleared the things away, washed and put them in the cupboard.  At length after several hours we had become sleepy so retired for the night.

The next morning we awaken to the patter of raindrops on the roof and as we looked from the window could see the raindrops were fast turning into snowflakes. By noon the ground was quite white, only to stop about an hour later when the sun tried to break through, the clouds to disappear behind another while a wind came up from nowhere to assist in melting the snow.

The days were going fast. Thanksgiving would soon be here and mother would be preparing and making her fruit cakes for the holiday season and the delightful aroma emitting from the kitchen.

Thus we sat by our fireside dreaming, thinking, talking, many (204)  things crossed our minds that morning, going over the times that had been, the things that had happened and why was he destined to break his leg that morning, just when he needed them most. This answer and answers to other things we went over, were unanswerable. They just happen we concluded as we sat talking the day away, except for times when I would add more wood to the fire or prepare our meals and toward evening the few chores to do and days like it to remember a lifetime. Sunshine and sorrow all a part of life and that makes up life.

After supper Jim continued his reading until I was dozing in my rocker, when I was awakened by that howling cry, seemed almost beneath our window, with me saying quickly, “What was that?"  Jim wide-awake said, “I know it wasn’t a coyote." Then it came again at that time I heard it plainer. Instead of a howling sound it was a murderous squall like that of the wildcat. Jim laid his book down saying, “That’s it but what’s a wildcat doing down here?  They stay in caves in the mountains more.” We continued to sit quietly, listening when the old boy serenaded us again with his screaming cat like cry, that seem to get farther away each time. So I decided since we had nothing that he could kill our get out, we’d leave the old boy to his wanderings, whichever way he chose to go. But we learned later he got at some of the neighbors stock. He was probably just on the prowl around our place for what he might find. Since we had been so rudely disturbed from the quiet calm we had settled in for the long winter evening, Jim thought he’d read awhile longer before retiring to put us in a more of a retiring mood for that was enough to disquiet anyone and I couldn’t have been more awake. But the popping, crackling wood of the dying fire put us in that slumber land mood, glancing at the clock, saw it was straight up 12, then blew out the lights, saying good night to the world around us, and were soon in dreamland with warm quilts and blankets talked in around us.

 It was cold that night and by morning the temperature had dropped much lower, so much so that I bundled up extra good before going out to do the few necessary chores and since I was out, added a little more word to our pile by the door, then re-filled the wood box by the kitchen stove, and by that time the wind had come up, which made it even colder; going in, I was 
soon warm by a crackling fire. I sat down to write one of my contest stories which I always enjoy doing. I lived in the stories as I wrote them and poems were always a delight to me. As I went about my housework I could compose a six or eight verse poem, jotted it down at intervals on a pad I always kept handy.

The days went by one by one and much faster than we sometimes wanted them to so that day set aside for giving thanks had arrive. We were up early to take care of things for we wanted to spend most of the day there.  Going home to visit our folks was always something (205) special and when at last Beauty, was hitched and we were tucked in by a lap robe, Beauty took off seeming to be glad of the opportunity. In no time we were through the gate and up on the road going west always then turned east going past our neighbors on the hill above us, waved to those we saw as Beauty trotted by. Our hearts filled with happiness and before we knew it we were singing a delightful little Thanksgiving song for I always had a happy feeling when going to visit my folks. This day was something a little more exceptional.

The crisp cool air made our cheeks glow with the wind in our face, going east down in the canyon along Shirley Creek. We were through one gate and now another. We could hear Toby barking, coming down the lane to meet us and the closer we got the more one could see that white tip of his tail waving like a flag. On he came, head up and mouth open, almost like he was laughing at our coming, getting right up to the buggy, whined, jumped up on his hind feet, welcoming us in his most dog-like manner. Father by that time had come outside, waving as we drove up, taking a hold of Beauty's bridle, turned the buggy wheel so we could get out. Then he said, “ I'll take care of her, Jim, you and Annie go on in."  

Mother opened the door and we went in. Things like this just don’t happen by themselves for here was home, here was love, and kind friendly loving parents, a warm fireside and my sister was playing a pretty Thanksgiving song. Jim and I joined in singing with her, who could wish for more

Life was brimming full and running over. All this besides that tantalizing aroma of roasting stuffed turkey and all the good things that went with it. We sang several more numbers, some mother asked for. Then father came bringing a large log to put in the room stove. He and Jim sat visiting a while. My sister and I helped mother with the dinner. Soon someone else rolled up. My sister went out to welcome him and they came in together and went into the front room.

It was now past 12 noon so I began setting the table then getting the chairs up while mother proceeded to put things on and then we were seated. Mother asked Jim to return thanks and the food was passed. As father carved the turkey here was a day of thanks in this canyon surrounded by hills that echoed one's sentiments. The day a bit chilly, just enough to make one feel good. Shirley Creek already frozen on its edges leaving a narrow margin where the water ran.

After that big dinner I felt like I would just have to walk around a bit. Toby seemed tickled to think he could accompany me. The garden void of its summer vegetables looked somewhat lonely and forsaken. Toby dashed here and there and soon flushed out a sage hen, that took to its wings flying to the top of the bench, giving that up, he went back again, this time among the old choke cherry (206)  grove that was shedding their dead leaves, leaving the bare limbs for birds to hop among or roost on. Here he scared up a cotton tail. I watched him for some little time, barking and yipping and trying to keep on its trail, all to no avail, being outwitted again. We started back for the house. About that time he heard mother calling him, “Well Toby."  I said, patting him on the head, “You are not going to miss out on a Thanksgiving dinner after all even though you did miss the little rabbit, who has a lot to be thankful for too."  

Hearing mother's second call he took off leaving me to follow for he knew when that call came there was always something good for him. As I reached the house mother was feeling a pan with table scraps that the most elite dog would have welcomed.

I apologized to mother for running off, but just had to look around. “That’s what I want you to do, “ mother replied as we went in. Most of the stuff was still on the table. I got busy helping, telling mother how wonderful everything was and to me she still was the best cook in the world and full as I was, had to nibble at this and that, as I continued to help, getting the dish pans ready to wash the dishes, telling mother she had done her part, I would do the rest. But as always she would not sit down until it was cleared away. My sister dried the dishes and we had a visit like we hadn’t seen each other for months. We always had such good times together and what should have been a tedious task wound up a pleasant one, quickly accomplished while we went back days, months, even years in the short conversation that ensued there between us as we worked.

After that, Jim and I went up to my brother and sister-in-law’s place just up the path from my folks. They had just sat down to their bountiful feast of turkey and all that went with it, even wanted us to partake. We declined, saying it looked wonderful, but anymore would be overdoing it as we were already too full for more. The two older children each wanted a drumstick. They looked pretty large but they seemed to be doing a good job of getting away with it.  Thus we sat talking. The baby seemed happy for he lay cooing in his crib. It was an enjoyable afternoon. My brother was proud of the way his wheat was doing and proud and thankful for all the blessings bestowed upon them. We sat visiting until the evening shadows began to enclose the surrounding hills, then went back to my folks

Mother had gotten the lamps down, cleaning the chimneys in preparation for lighting giving a cheery mood to the already darkening room. I took two to the living room while my mother sat one on the kitchen table by the window, sending a glow from the inside like a beam into the outer darkness. Jim and I thought we should be going before the night really settled in the canyon. Then to the evening brought on a damp chilliness and an open buggy wouldn’t be very pleasant.  Mother coaxed us to stay and father said, “It isn’t necessary to go.  (207) Beauty is in the barn with feed.” So giving up I helped mother to prepare supper.  When we sat down everything tasted much the same as at noon and somewhat better. This time I ate more of the pie and cake I didn’t get to eat at dinner. When it was over we felt we had over eaten as usual. I helped clear away the things while my sister's friend left to go to his home.

After that we gathered in the living room for a round of singing. Then we visited until bedtime. The temperature dropped in the night and we awoke to a much colder morning. I heard father come down at daybreak to fix up the fires. Then mother arose.  Soon all were awake and dressed.

Mother had beat up a large bowl of pancake batter. I proceeded to fry them while mother fried eggs and bacon and made coffee. She got out a jar of choke cherry jam to go with the butter and syrup and I don’t think I have ever eaten anything more appetizing.

After breakfast we knew we’d have to head for home, so father hitched Beauty and we were off. The cold air seem to bite and sting our faces as we drove along and now through the two gates up the hill, past our neighbors, then on the winding road, the big corner post and here we turned east in the section road north into our gate down in the valley and home.

Jim got Beauty unhitched while I went in to fix the fires. It was almost as cold in the house as out of doors where there had been no fire there since the morning before.  But it was all worth it to  be home again for Thanksgiving for things like that were never forgotten and when Jim came in the fires were slowly warming up. We both stood shivering with our coats on until the stoves began sending out a glowing warmth into the room. I went out again later to feed the stock and the chickens that had been neglected the evening before. I drew a fresh bucket of water from the cistern near the door.  Then took a tea kettle of boiling water to thaw out the chicken's water so they could have a drink. Near the door were coyote tracks, so we had had a visitor the night we were gone, but wasn’t unnatural for we were serenaded most every night with them especially on stormy evenings.

The ground was bare again. The last snow had vanished about as fast as it came, but the snow lasted in the mountains and lower down. Each snowstorm though left the snow further down the mountain side, there to lay gradually melting and descending into the valley with the spring freshet or run off.

Taking an arm full of wood I went into the house putting more in the stoves. I took off my scarf and coat, fixed a lunch of some hot soup and crackers I had made that was always good on cold days. When that was over, I swept the house and dusted. For in this country it was always dusty. Then I sat down to read and relax for a while. I hadn’t been feeling too well lately. When I spoke to mother about it (208) she said, “from the sounds of it, you could be expecting. “Well,"  I said to her, “Maybe that is it, but I didn’t know one got sick because of that."  “Oh, yes,“ she replied, “each time you are that way."  “Well, that is a mean trick,“ I said. She then said, “a lot of things aren’t right in this world, we just have to go along with it."

I thought of her words often, especially each morning before and after breakfast. But I was the kind that never let things bother me and always fought off sick spells instead of letting it get me down. So I made up my mind to disregard it, but that was the hardest thing I ever tried to ignore for it was with me each morning no matter what. For as the days and weeks went by that was one time I had been licked. My will power had no effect in the matter. It was something that had to be, so from then on figured I’d put up with it. As each day went by consoling myself with the thought that it would pass and that I’d be rid of that feeling. So I sat thus reading in a farm journal and relaxing until Jim finished his letter writing and was ready to read on the continued story that was so interesting. While he read I mended several pairs of socks until toward evening when I went out to do the few chores, fill the wood box and fix the supper.

The next few days slipped away and it was December. The middle of that week we went for the mail.  There was quite a bunch. The first of the month always brought our magazines, two newspapers, and several letters.  We did enjoy the farm notes and other interesting things like short stories, poems, pictures and etc. that gave us a better outlook on life. Some would think life was monotonous in this country far from neighbors without a telephone or any fast means of travel, but we did not find it so for we always found things to occupy our mind. There were times I did miss having a piano though for that was one of the ways I had at home of amusing and consoling myself during long winter evenings. But Jim liked to read to me and I lived in and enjoyed the stories he read.

As the weeks slipped past we had more storms, then snow and more snow until we were in a world of white and were constantly entertained by the yapping coyotes off on the hillside or from the canyons that put a lonely feeling into one at times if they kept their ear turned steadily to it.

Then a week before Christmas a storm of blizzard type came up during the early morning hours just at dawn. Our windows were plastered all over. We seem to be marooned  in our own home. We worried about our stock for it kept up through the day and night. I managed to get them fed and to get to the chicken house and back and fill our wood box. When I came in, I was covered with snow until I looked much like a snowman. I took off my coat and tried to shake it outside but the snow came down faster than I could shake it off. So I shook it off in the kitchen then swept it up in a dustpan and threw it out. I was glad it came from the west because we always went in and (209) out of our east door. This snow already added to what we had was a blessing as well as a nuisance. Then too, Jim thought we might as well have some fun out of it so with my help some days later, he put the sleigh runners on the buggy, laying the wheels aside, then putting the sleigh bells on Beauty.

 We went sleigh riding to get our mail at the Post Office and also picked up my folk's and brother's mail. We had quite a batch with all of it. The sleigh runners worked fine on good smooth roads but when in the narrow sagebrush roads they didn’t work so well for instead of like a regular sleigh with one runner on each side, we had two short runners on each side and you could turn with them like buggy wheels.  Once in a while they would catch on a large sage near the road instead of going over it. The runner would turn up on end, raising up the buggy on that side. Then Jim would back up to get it straightened out and sometimes we'd have to get out to get it back like it belonged, so we learned to go slow and be careful on rough roads.

We were having fun though and the jingling bells brought people to the door as we went by. When we got to the folk's, everybody came out for a look, taking out the mail. I told my sister to get in when Jim got out. We drove down the lane to the first gate and back twice, laughing and having the most fun. She said, “Oh, if some certain person could see her now.“ Tying Beauty up, we went in the house cold but happy

Mother had dinner ready so we got in on another good meal besides quite a lot of playing on the piano with all singing together. My brother heard the bells so he came down to get his mail

The winter was very pleasant, if one didn’t have too much to do, with some relaxation or entertainment, we all surmised as we sat talking and visiting. Evening was coming on and knowing we couldn’t spend the night, got up to leave with father and mother wanting us to stay. Saying goodbye and waving, we were off with sleigh bells ringing to the tune of our singing where we had hit upon a sleigh bell song. Out of the valley and over the hill, we were soon home and our fires as usual were out so I set about to fix them while Jim took care of Beauty and fed the stock. He still had to lean on one crutch while doing things. I took care of the chickens and soon we were in for the night by our own fire side and the beam from our light shining fourth through the window over the miles of snow that lay outside for all was quiet and calm. Our thermometer indicated the temperature was dropping. It would be much colder by morning. At midnight a wind came up, swirling, eddying and whipping the snow against our windows. With all of it the yappings of a coyote came to us from out of the storm somewhat of a pathetic sound we thought due to the elements.

The next morning we were surrounded by snow drifts everywhere (210) and still drifting. The drift in front of our home came almost up to the front window and our buggy seemed to have caught a lot of it for it had collected up to the bottom. The stock was nowhere to be seen until we went out to feed them. They came from the canyon seeking shelter from the hills. I had to use a shovel to move the drift from my henhouse door before I could get in to feed and give them warm water.  Our wheat in the valley was almost bare because of the wind. Finally the wind died down, but the skies remained cloudy and a few fluffy flakes came sifting down, gradually covering the bare places the wind had uncovered during the night.  Although we were sorry for our stock we were thankful we had a home, a warm fire and good things to eat and plenty of reading matter. In the last mail we had gotten another bundle of Sunday school papers from Jim’s folks in Iowa which they had saved and sent us. They always made interesting reading. I loved keeping tab on the weather happenings and the things that went on in and around us.  And when there was nothing else to do, enjoyed writing short stories for contests or just the fun of it.

The snow continued through the night. But the next morning all was clear when the sun arose from behind the mountain peaks to cast its warm rays on a world of white.

We went out after breakfast to remove the snow from in and around our buggy. We didn’t know whether to leave the runners on or put the wheels on again. The runners wouldn’t go through big drifts very well until a little sun and time had settled the drift making the snow more compact. Then the runners would easily ride over them so we decided we’d have another ride or two before removing them.

The sun continue to shine throughout the day making the bushes and small trees along Shirley Creek covered with ice crystals to shine and glitter like diamonds bangles, a beautiful sight to behold, but the sun had very little affect on the snow. It lay cold and silent, somewhat desolate and thus we had snow for some time and the sleigh runners worked fine going up the canyon to our parents on Christmas morning.

As usual the kitchen had that delicious distinctive festive holiday aroma. When we went in cold and shivering, father met us, taking care of Beauty, told us to scoot in the house for riding in an open buggy didn’t keep one warm even with bells jingeling. Our sleigh bells had brought our neighbors to the door and we would wave and say, “Merry Christmas.“

Later on a friend of my sister’s came. We all exchanged gifts in the living room, opening to see what each got. Father’s was house slippers and mother’s a warm shawl to put around her shoulders. Jim’s and mine were house slippers and my sister’s was a necklace, handkerchiefs and some new music which pleased her. 

After that was over we assisted mother and putting the dinner on. (211) We all sat down and father returned thanks saying truly we have lots to be thankful for. Then he carved the turkey as other dishes were passed. My sister's friend said to mother, “I don’t know how you do it, but every dish you prepare seems to have such a wonderful good taste.”  Mother thanked him. The tomato vines father had hung in the cellar had been loaded with green tomatoes. They ripened and there was the dish of red sliced tomatoes being passed. They tasted extra nice especially if one looked out of the window at the snow laden hills and valley.