Amanuensis Monday--Elsie Crocker’s Manuscript, Part 19: Miscellaneous

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As I mentioned in last week’s blog, this installment begins on a new page and with a title of a sort. Strangely, the title has nothing to do with what follows, and I wonder if it was meant more as a note to herself to later write a Christmas book. (If she ever did, I have never seen it. Update: The Christmas book has been found! Read the transcription here.) This week I am transcribing just a single page of the manuscript, because it is largely a series of miscellanies tied together by a stream of consciousness, and the following page arrives so abruptly that I can’t help but wonder if somewhere along the way I lost a page of the manuscript.

My Christmas book is separate form this one

The Christmas’s on the big farm I remember best

I was the right age to remember Christmas and dear old Santa.

It was such good fun no the farm with my brothers and sisters. Dad was right for wanting and having six children We were close in ages, two to five years apart. We looked after one another, of course we had a few small spats once in a while but what family didn’t. The boys would tease me a lot but Mother said I could take care of myself pretty well. Let anone else pick on us, and they were right there helping us. I think if possible everyone should have a sister and brother. When yoy have others in the family you learn to share That’s very important.

We went with out a lot, not having it we never missed it. We wore each others clothes sometimes especially if someone out grew their clothes., and a another could wear them.

We never went hungry. We never were abused by anyone. We grew most our food such as vegetables, and fruit. Our cow for milk and cream, chickens for eggs and meat. We had our own meat, pigs, calves, and beef. All we needed were the staples for our cooking.

An example of the produce they grew themselves: Aileen and Inez UNDERWOOD sitting atop a pile of pumpkins

 

Growing up with animals of all kinds around us, we learned a lot. We learned how to feed them, how much water they needed and how to bed them doun at night. Keeping the doors and gates closed, to keep our animals home. Learning to listen for the rooster to call us in the morning. His “Cocok-a-doodle, our alarm clock. How to chop the wood, and how to fill the wood box, kindling and how much to keep the stoves going.

We understood baby calves and baby chicks. How to care for them. How they got usued to seeing us and eager for their food.

I never did it all by myself but I helped when I could and I watched and learned how. Some animals were easy to love and some didnit want your love.

We also got acquainted with different insects, butterflies, dragon flies, snakes, mice, grasshoppers, birds and frogs.

We had a bird called a “meadow lark” which would sing, while we would be planting our garden. He would sing “hurry up get your beets in”. We had another one the whipper will, it sounded “like whip poor Will” My brother’s name was William, we called him Will part of the time. I didn’t like this one much, as I loved my brother very much.

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Amanuensis Monday--Elsie Crocker’s Manuscript, Part 18: Fireworks and Cotton Candy

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If only I could have divided this manuscript up in a way that this installment would fall near the Fourth of July!  It tells about fireworks and the Fourth of July, circuses, and some other miscellaneous things.

On the Fourth of July, we would have some fireworks. Mostly firecrackers and some sparklers. The boys liked the “Devil on the Walk”. These I hated. They were small and sort of round which you held in your hand. The boys would through them on a hard surface, like a sidewalk, they made a loud noise and spattered pieces all over. They liked to get in back of you and then through one back of you. We would jump a mile. The boys would laugh but it hurt if some of the pieces hit your legs, it would burn.

The boys had some fire crackers that didn’t have any wicks. They put these into the ground, up right then preced to light them. Then they would go off. I had some without wicks, I thought I’d do the same thing, it looked easy enough. Well, I planted it in the ground, lit my match, no responds. I waited a bit and nothing happened, so I ran into the house to get another match. Instead of lighting the match I knealed doun and blew on the firecracker, it went off right in my face and eyes. I ran into the house and my mother said “I never had any use for fire crackers anyway.” I ran into my bed room and had a good cry I new my dad would scold me. I could hear her saying Just wait until your dad gets. I can’t remember what my dad said but I did injure my eye. The doctors tell me I had a injury on that eye and the crying I did was the best thing I could have done. Don’t do what the other fellow does, be careful of the fire works.

Dad used to sole our shoes when we were young. He had a shoe tree and three or four awls to fit all our sizes of shoes. We would leave our shoes in fron of our bedroom door at night when we went to bed, the next morning the shoes were mended, soled and cleaned. Dad was proud of polished shoes, I think by being in the ppolice force made him notce them more.

It was quit a day when the circus came to town, probably once a year. All the neighbors turned out on this day, and of course we also went It was going to be a big day, we’d get up early to get our chores done. We would pack a lunch, cheese and crackers, bread and bologna and fruit. Of course we got dressed in our best, when we were all fixed to go, we left in our wagon, drawn by our horses. We planed on spending the day there, seeing all the people we knew.

The circus was housed in a big round tent. Along with this cicus was a carnival, here we would walk around looking around to see what we could buy with our few pennies. We would save all year to buy one thing. Dad would buy us each a square brick of pink popcorn with a pretty fan on top of the corn. We ate it during the performance. The tent was very hot, we had lemonade to drink, just one for each of us. Money was scarce but we had always had a lot of food and a lot of love and a fine house, we were happy. We really appreciated the little extras.

We also some pink cotton candy which Dad thought a waste of good money. He said “You put it in your mouth then its gone.” What have you got. Dad couldn’t eat sweets so he couldn’t appreciate the sweet taste. Pullin off the cotton candy off was fun. We loved seeing the animals perform. Wishing we could teach our animals to do tricks.

On the farm the boys found three rims off the wheels. The wooden wheels, were, two rims wide the other rim narrow. They decided to use them to make a make believe car. The boys used a long lath for the handle and a short lath nailed to one end of the long lath. This was used to start the car. You stood this rim right up, then put one end of the small lath insede of the rim, close to the edge, twist it around on the rim. It would start if lucky. You would run behind this rim guiding with the small part of the lath. To stop this car, use the little lath part, one end next to the rim, holding on to the rim. This will stop it.

I made the mistake by leaving my car (which was called a Dodge car) My car was the narrow rim. It was so much harder to keep up. I left his Dodge in front of the pump house, well Dad nearly fell over it: the boys were very quick to tell him it was mine. He grabbed me and started to spank me with the handle of my car. I told him not to break my Dodge car. He stopped and sort of grinned. At this time didn’t realize he didn’t know what my Dodge car was. I think he thought it was my bottom. This is the only spanking I can remember. He usually scolded which was far worse.

I believe that the story about the “Dodge car” must have been one of Elsie’s favorites, for she told it to me several times.

I know that there was something behind the passing comment that “Dad couldn’t eat sweets so he couldn’t appreciate the sweet taste.” I don’t know the full story, but I have heard comments from other family members about his aversion to sweets.

This is clearly the end of one section of the manuscript, as it ends mid-page and the next page begins with a title.

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Amanuensis Monday--Elsie Crocker’s Manuscript, Part 16: School Days

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This installment of Elsie’s manuscript is rather a long one, but a common thread runs throughout. It discusses the Underwood kids’ school days, telling a little about the school itself, but mostly focusing on the human element: what they would do at different points in the day, and incidents that happened either on the way to or from school.

We went to Ten Mile School. It was at least one and a half miles around the road. Walking the canal bank was a little shorter. We were never tardy, we got a certificate. I wonder how many children would like to walk that far to school. now a days. Rain, frost, snow or sun shine?

This was a one room school with eight grades and just one teacher.

The canal ran part way thru our place and came out close to the school house. There was a bridge over the creek, this bridge we had to cross in order to reach the school. Sometime we walked the canal bank.

The owner that the canal ran thru his fields, warned us he had a ram goat that was real mean. He gave us permission to go thru his fields but be very careful of this ram. He said if we saw the ram not to go in that field.

One morning my friend Margaret Church and I was alone going to school, this morning we couldn’t see the ram anywhere, so we decided we would take our chances. We decided to go thru this field. We didn’t see the ram until we were almost out of the field.

Our hearts nearly stopped There he was on the canal bank right in from of us. No way to avoid him, water in the canal and a small creek on the other side. My girl friend jumed toward the stream. I was so scared I stood, afraid to move, by this time I was face to face with him. He such big horns, the kind that circles around, I had never seen such horns. I don’t know how but I put my hand out to pet him. He seemed as surprised as I was. His big horns were so rough and hard. I was so scared, I tried to move away. He then tossed his head, I stepped backwards and as I did I slipped and fell on the ground. I think I slipped on a small rock. The goat didn’t hurt me. I got up and looked at him and he at me. Then somehow I got out of there. The goat just stood and looked at me, I guess he was wondering how I got there.

In the mean time, my friend had ran to the school house and told everyone the goat had knocked me doun. But it didn’t. I had slipped by myself and fell. I wasn’t afraid anymore but I didn’t go thru that field again unless my brothers were there to see if the gaot was anywhere to be seen. Why press your luck.

The school had a big bell, I was located in a belfry. On top of the school. The bell was rung by pulling a long rope. You could hear this bell when it was rung, for a long ways. The bell was rung in the morning and again at our lunch time and at our recesses. The bell was rung more times in the morning, just once the other times. The teacher let me ring it once, it took me off my feet. My brother used to ring it often, he was taller. (Walter)

The teacher would line us up in a row to march us in to the school house. In the morning, lunch time and the recesses. The small children in the front and the tall ones in the back.

We had a out house, just one. The grounds was partialy fenced in. on one side it was as nature left it. Sagebrush and big boulders. In the spring there were a lot of wild flowers and a lot of bright colored moss. I loved that moss it had such a pretty color and velvet like feeling. There was a real flat big rock we called Table Rock. This is where, some of us would sit and eat our lunches every day.

Margaret and I would exchange sandwiches. She was fond of cheese We always had cheese at our house. She would have peanut butter and I was fond of that. So we got along fine.

The school, we had a pot belly stove that heated the whole school room. We had a huge blackboard right back of where the teacher sat. The desks and seats were connected. The seats would push back when we got off of them. They stayed until we pushed them doun, when we sat doun. The teacher had a regular chair and a fat cushion to sit on.

I wonder what occasion this photograph commemorates. The streamers imply some sort of celebration. (Elsie is the second girl from the right in the front row.)

The books, pencils and tablets were pushed into the front of the desk. The to of the desk didn’t lift up.

We chalk and erasers, to use on the blackboard. The teach ever so often would have a couple of the kids stay after school to clean the erasers. You had to be careful the chalk dust would fly all over. The boys (mostly) were the ones asked to do this, they would hit two erasers together to knock the dust out.

We carried our lunches in a lunch pail, we had no cafeterias those days. The lunch pails were put on a shelf in the cloak room. No lockers. Our hats, coats and goullashes, hung up in this small room.

Our lunch pail was probably a five pound lard pail. Our tablets were called “penny tablets” a very cheap grade of paper. The older children used pens. The pens then was a holder which held pen points. The pen points came in differend size points of course you used one point at a time. There was a small hole in the desk at the top and to one side, that held a ink well, which had a top, with a small hole in it. So the pen could enter. You’d have to dip the pen often to have enough ink to write much. They finally invented fountain pens.

The first fountain pen I had I lost in the snow and never found it untill the snow melted in the spring then it was too late. It had frozen with the ink in it and burst.

The boys used to like to put the tip of the braid of the girl that sat in front of him. They did’t dare do mine as I had two brothers big.

Inez was born, she was named after, the Shaw’s daughter. Inez Shaw. She was a surprise to me I didn’t know I was going to have a baby sister.

Coming from school one day. I had walked around the road. I was close to our house, I had to still go across the bridge of the canal.

A short ways from the road I was on was a big puddle of water. See there stood a big coyote with his teeth showing, and lookin straight at me. I was scared to pass in front of him I turned around and ran all the way back to our neighbors, about one half mile away. Never being late home from school, my mother got worried, she called the neighbors, to see if I was there. The neighbors told her I was there and afraid to go home. Mother sent some one to take me home. Mother was sure the coyote had stopped for a drink as he probably had been running. Said coyotes won’t attack you unless their hungry. I don’t know I didn’ stop to ask him if he was hungry. After Mother’s experiences with couotes I wasn’t taking any chances.

In the winter time the distance was a long way. There a lot of cold days in Idaho. We were lucky we had friends to walk with. The wind would blow a gale and seemed to go right thru you.

We wore scarves around our necks, up around our mouths Our hot breathe going thru the scarf entering the cold air would form icicles. We would blow our breathes to see the white steam come out. It looked like white smoke. Our noses were like a big red cherry. Our hands were so cold we couldn’t feel them at all, and we had on warm gloves.

When the snow came Mother didn’t want us to eat the first snow that fell She said it had germs in it. The snow cleaned the air. We children would make snowmen, angels by laying with our arms out straight and moving up and doun. Which made the wings. We would lay on our backs in the snow. Having brothers we made forts. We had a lot of snowballing. I didn’t mind the soft ones but the boys learned to soak the in water and they would hurt.

When it was really snowing, we would have two layers of clothes on. Lon johns, and long black stockings. Over our shoes we wore galoshes, which were called “over shoes”. They came all most up to our knees. Dad would wrap gunny sacks over our galoshes up to our knees. My brothers would have to remove these gunny sacks before we got to school. They would hide these sacks under the bridge of the canal. We would have to put them on the way back home after school. We took off our “over shoes” after we got to school. The teacher was good to help the little ones. These mornings the heat from the pot belly stove felt good

Our “over shoes”, buckled up in front of the foot with six or more buckles. There were hard to pull on over our regular shoes. Some of the other children got frost bitten because they weren’t dressed warm enough.

This little story reminds me of our family. A teacher was helping to put on a little boys over shoes. She tugged and pulled, finally succeeded in getting them on. The little boy piped up Those aren’t my over shoes. Reluctantly she took them off. Then the little boy exclaimed Those used to belong to my sister. So the teacher had to tug and pull them back on the little fellow. She wasn’t very happy about it.

At our house we only had a heater and the kitchen range for heat. We had a lot of fun popping corn and eating apples Some times we could make candy, I remember once, we were making some fudge, it was boiling real good and I stuck one of my fingers into it. I was burned real good. I learnt a lesson I never did that again.

In the winter we wore fannel gowns to sleep in. The gowns were long, we would wrap them around our legs when we got into bed. I bedrooms were always cold.

We wore long johns until Easter Sunday, off they came the long johns, on with the light weight clothes. It felt as tho we had lost ten pounds. We could wear white stockings.

Sometimes Dad would make a sliegh out of his wagon. If it snowed while we were in school and not clothe for the weather, he would pick us up, not only us but all the other kids. He would sing “It’s a long way to Tipperary” but my hearts right there.” We all got a kick out of it. I always thought he meant getting home.

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Amanuensis Monday--Elsie Crocker’s Manuscript, Part 15: Churning and Chimneys

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The farmers share with one another, they exchange work tools etc. Just like when your cow goes dry. You get milk from your neighbor, when his goes dry he gets milk from your cow. The only ketch is the children have to fetch the milk. In pails. Sometime it’s a good half mile, in sunshine, rain, or snow. Sometimes that half mile was a long half mile.

Mother would tell us we weren’t sugar or salt we would’nt melt.

Sometime the neighbors and Dad would go together and by a cow or a pig and go together and kill it and dress it ready to eat. They shared the meat and the cost. It was cheaper than buying at a market. And much better.

The churning of butter was the boys job, but I could help them some. The first churn I remember was a barrel type, it looked like a small barrel laying on its side, a frame to hold it up, a handle we could turn. This churn would have to be turn around and around to make the butter. Sometimes longer than others depending on the cream. Once in a while it woul spring a leak, us kids thought it funny. Our mother didn’t, for she had to clean it up. What made this leak the barrel had dried out between churnings. Mom would have us stop churning while she stuffed a piece of cloth in the hole. It worked. Mother had just scrubbed her floor and then this cream, she wasn’t very happy. The floor was hard to clean It was a bare wood floor. She scrubbed it with a broom, hot water, and homemade soap. Mother said we wouldn’t laugh if we had to clean it up. The cream came out and the turning around and around the cream splattered a ways in the air, covering a pretty big area.

Our lamps were filled with kersene. The lamps had wicks to carry the kerosene, so we could light them. The wicks were about two inches wide. If we turned it up we more light, turn it doun it would dim, it would almost go out, then blow in it and it would go out. If the wick was uneven it would smoke, this would make the chimney black. Every week the chimnies were cleaned and refill. To clean the chimney you would take it off the lamp and then blow into the chimney, then take a piece of newspaper and twist around and round inside the chimney. You might have to blow more moist air into the chimney to release the smoke. More newspaper may be needed.

We had several lamps to go around, they were carried from one room to another. Many times I had awakened and found my mother, lamp in hand looking doun at us. She said we were restless, she was just checking.

We finally had a new churn, this churn had a long handle with four paddles attached to the bottom of the handle. The churn had a lid, the handle coming right up thru it. We would have to pull the handle up and doun until we had butter.

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Amanuensis Monday--Elsie Crocker’s Manuscript, Part 12: Dresses

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Merry Christmas! This installment isn’t quite in keeping with the season, but I believe that the Christmassy portion of Elsie’s manuscript has already been transcribed. So instead we’ll enjoy a little birthday and (previously quoted) Halloween merriment. The theme for this week is dresses.

One day my aunt made me a pink checked dress for my birthday. She gave me a party, so I was suppose to wear this dress. The guests arrived I took them out to see the animals, I was so proud of.

Aunt Sadie came out just as we all got seated on the top of the pig pen. The pen is open with a rail fence all around it. We were sitting on this rail. My aunt “told me what are you thinking sitting on a pig pen. I never made that dress for you to do this.” The pen was new and clean, I couldn’t see what the matter was. She got us together and marched us to the house. She told my mother and Mother said “I don’t see any thing wrong in that.” Aunt Sadie said “I never made that dress to sit on a pig pen.” We never got around to see the rest of the animals.

Talk about dresses Mother, sent away for a red plaid one, from a catalogue. I was in the first grade, I hated that dress. Someon must have hurt my feelings for not liking it. I hid it everywhere, under the bed, under the mattress, in the closet. She found it no matter what, she made me wear that dress. One day I took that dress and hid it under my gunny sack rug in my play house, which was on the canal bank. Mother found it but it was too late, it had mildewed and unable to wear. Mother couldn’t understand what was wrong with that dress. She said I was always so easy to get a long with. I couldn’t tell her why I didn’t like it. I never wore plaids again. I still don’t care for plaids.

These tent houses were made from large gunny sacks, our feed for our cattle and pigs and chicken, came in these large sacks.

Dad lets play with these sacks. So Walter and Bill made us a tent house, one for each of us. These were cool in the summertime, Idaho summers are real hot.

Walter cut out dishes, knives and forks and spoons. Out of tin sheeting Dad had.

On one Halloween we had our jack o lanterns on our (probably a apple box) table. Right close to the opening of our tents. Our dad was on the school board, we were having a program that night. Our teacher was over to our house, she wanted Dad and Mom to drive her on an errand, they were gone a short time, when they came back my teacher asked me to turn around. I turned, all the back of my dress was burned. But how? The only fire I was around was our jack o lanterns. We had lit our lanterns to show the teacher, when she got back. The wind must have blown my dress against the lit pumkin, as I was closing the door of my tent house. I must have sat doun real fast to have put the fire out. I always believed I had a guarding angel. Of course I had to wear my school dress to the program that night. This reminds me of a little poem Mother told me.

(The Girl)     Which dress should I wear?

               My blue one or my new one

               Or the one I wore last.

(Mother)

               The last one you wore last

               It’s the only one you have

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Amanuensis Monday--Elsie Crocker’s Manuscript, Part 8: The ranch near Meridian

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We have finally reached a point in Elsie’s manuscript for which I have photographs! It has been quite a while since I have been able to bring Elsie’s words to life with pictures, so I am rather gleeful about the opportunity this week. This installment tells of when the Underwood family moved outside the city of Boise to a farm near Meridian, Idaho. Though it will be a couple weeks yet before we learn of it in Elsie’s words, this is the farm where my grandmother was born. 

Dad was on his way again, this time to the furtile valley of Boise Idaho, ten miles from Boise.

This was a large ranch, over eighty acres of ground. The ranch was located six miles from Meridan and ten miles from Boise, Idaho.

The ranch was owned by two families, the Dorr’s and the Shaws. The two families lived in the city, Boise.

This ranch was bran new, Dad must of worked on this ranch before we moved in, while we were living in Boise. The house was new, up to now this was our first real new house of any size. The house had four bedrooms, living room (parlor in those days) a kitchen and two porches, one in the back and the other in the front. On hot days we would sit on the back porch in the morning and the front porch in the afternoon, when it was shady. Until the trees grew up it was pretty hot, in the sun.

The Shaw’s and Dorr’s came often to see how things were coming along. The Dorr’s had a boy about my age and the Shaw’s had a girl about Walter’s age.

We soon had a well dug, we lived on a small hill, so the well drillers had to go a long ways doun to reach water. They put a motor to pump the water up. We had lots of water now for the house and irrigation. There also was a canel running on one side of the ranch, where the water from the canel was used for watering the fields. No alikali and plenty of water Dad was happy.

They were paying Dad to build this ranch up and plant the eighty acres with prune trees.

The ground was ready to plant, he also had some help (hiredhelp) Also he had us kids, Walter, Bill, and even me.

We soon had the barnes, chicken coupes, and a pig pen, also a shed to cover the pump, it was called the pump house. A root cellar was later built. This was a great blessing for Mother to keep the milk from souring. The root cellar was built under ground, it was much cooler there. We kept our vegetables and fruit there also. We had lots of eggs also.

After the buildings were up and useable, the weather right. Dad started to plant the eighty acres of prunes. These trees were small straight sticks which came bundled so many to a bundle. The sticks (trees) had no leaves. No branches, just a very few roots.

They were planted just so deep and so far a part. Then each tree was wrapped with a piece of tar paper. The paper was cut about fourteen by twelve inches, which came already cut. Thank goodness!

The tar paper was wrapped around the little twig of a tree, several times, then tyed wit bailing twine. The bailing twine came in large round balls. The paper was tyed top and bottom. This was to keep the rabbits from eating the bark off the little trees. Our land was new and we had a lot of rabbits.

My brothers and I would help to put the paper around the trees. Dad and the men planted the trees and we tyed the twine and put the paper around. I’d hold the paper in place while Bill and Walter would tye the twine.

I liked being with my brothers and dad, but my time was limited. Mom had to cook for Dad and the hired men. She needed help at lunch time, she would come out side of the house and wave her tea towel, that was for me to come home and help her. One of my jobs was to set the table which I like to do. Sometimes I was busy to see her waving but Dad would call my attention and saying “I think you Mother is calling”.

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Amanuensis Monday--Elsie Crocker’s Manuscript, Part 14: Animal Tales

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Well, here we are again. It has been longer than I care to admit since I have posted one of these “weekly” transcriptions, so it’s about time I resumed the habit. This installment tells a few animal tales in the lives of the Underwoods.

One morning Dad came in to the house, Mother could see he was upset about something. “What’s the matter” she asked him. Dad told her that the mother pig refused to let one pig nurse. If this goes on we will lose the little one. I over heard what was going on and volunteered. Dad informed us this little pig had to be kept warm and fed often. Mom agreed to let me take him, if I kept him on a blanket back of the stove. I had to keep him in the kitchen.

I was so happy to have a little pig for a pet. I know how to feed him as had helped feed some calves. I’d get a clean cloth and double it up like a nipple. Put it in a pail of warm milk. Tightly holding on to the nipple, the little pig took to this right away. He was hungry.

Later on I used two fingers held in the pail of warm milk he would suck on my fingers. He seemed to like it. He was hungry all the time. I had a lot of fun trying to keep this little pig in the kitchen and on his blanket back of the stove.

He was pink skin with light short hair. I spent my days chasing this little pig. Mother would say “Get that pig out of here”. So I would run and try to caught him. He was so chubby and fat, I would put both hands around his stomach and try and hold him. Sometimes my hands would slip, I’d get ahold of his leg. He’d squeal something awful. Mother would yell “You’ll break his leg. I don’t think I held him that tight. I would let him go and Mom would yell “Will you get him out of here.” I was trying my best, but pig’s hair grows from the front to the back, making it hard to hang on to.

Well the little pig grewup, he could eat by hisselve now. He got a long with the other pigs. I missed him I wondered did he miss me? I really think Mom missed him too.

I think every child should have a pig for a pet. I’m lucky to have had one, it a great experience.

A magpie is a large bird, very much like a big crow but much uglier. Someone told me if I could catch a magpie and split its tongue it would talk to me. It had to be a baby bird.

Maraget Church my girl friend and I was at the creek, at the far end of our farm. Above us was a big willow tree. There’s nest, after watching for a while, the mom and dad bird appeared. Oh, it’s a magpie couple. We could see the baby birds reaching to be fed. Margaret urged me to climb the tree. So I did. I stole a little bird, we took it home, right into the house. Mom and Margaret’s mom was there. Everything broke loose when my mom saw that bird.

I had never seen Mom mad like that before. She asked what we were thinking about to steal a baby bird from it’s mother. Go back and take that bird to it’s home this minute But Mother we wanted someone to cut it’s tongue so it would talk to us. My mother asked “Who ever put that idea in to your heads? I never heard of such a thing.”

So Margaret and my brother and I took that bird home. The birds parents seemed to be glad it was back. I never found out if we had split it’s tongue if it would talk. The was the first time and last time I ever stold a bird.

Living on a farm the children always had chores to do At least helping with them. Bringing in the wood two kinds kindling, wood for the range and heater. Horses beded doun, and fed, cow to milk, chickens to feed and to gather the eggs, etc.

Our family album has a very decided shortage of pictures from the time covered in Elsie’s manuscript. This is a picture of my grandma, Elsie’s sister Aileen, holding a chicken a decade or so after the incident Elsie describes below.

I used to like to feed the chickens and help gather the eggs. Sometimes one of the hens would decided to sit on some eggs. My brother Bill would, lift the hen up and I would reach under her and get the eggs. Later this hen would be put on a special nest with a dozen eggs to hatch. In a short time we would have some baby chickens. They are so cute. When you hold them in your hand you can feel their little heart beat thru the soft doun feathers.

Never knowing Dad had bought a new rooster, I started to feed the chickens. This rooster knocked me doun and started clawing my face. My dad jumed the fence, grabbed the rooster twisted his head off and threw it over the fence. Mother was upset spending money for the rooster and not having it one day. Dad told her if she had seen that rooster clawing at my face she would have done the same thing. I’m glad my dad was there, I still have the scare right close to my eye.

I remember when Elsie was still alive she showed me the above-mentioned scar. It was faint, so faint that I never would have noticed it if she had not pointed it out to me, but it was visible. I think that this story is the reason that I am wary of chickens to this day.

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Amanuensis Monday--Elsie Crocker’s Manuscript, Part 13: Of fruit and Olive

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On this orchard we had all kinds of fruit trees, apples, six or seven variaties, petite plums, peaches, and pears.

Grandma Aileen in peach orchard, age 3 (1918)

We had all kinds of berries, especially strawberries The ever bearing kind and raspberries also some gooseberries. Dad liked gooseberry pie, but was sour without sugar.

We would pick them right off the vines for breakfast with sugar and thick cream they were sure good!

We had lots of melons watermellons, cantaloupe, musk melons These were pink inside. When these melons were ripe them would fall off the vine. We were taught that any kind of fruit had to be ripe before you ate it or you would have a stomachacke.

This proved, when my sister was small got into the gooseberry patch. She ate them when they were green and was she sick. They had the doctor for her, she had convulsions We were real scared. This was my sister Aileen. No more green fruit.

Dad had a big melon patch in between his rows of corn. One day when the Dorr’s were there. I tried to find a ripe watermelon for their son. So I proceeded to plug most of the large melons. Not one of them were ripe.

To plug a melon, you cut a small triangle in the melon. The cut has to be fairly deep and then pull the plug out If it is real red on the tip, it would be ripe.

Dad was upset for me to cut so many melons, he was afraid they would spoil, I don’t think they did, that was the last I heard about the watermelons. However I never plugged watermelons again.

My sister Olive was very quite, she staied around the house a lot. She had some curl in her hair and Mother would put her hair up in strips of news paper. Her hair was short and easy to curl.

Mine was different It was longer and put up in braids. I had pigtails with ribbons on the back of my head or one on each side. My mom braided my hair every morning, when I went to school. We walked a long way home, and on the way I would unbraid my hair and let it hang doun my back. It would be wavy after it was undone. After being braided all day. My friends liked. Mother would always wonder why it would come undone, she never knew and my brothers never told her.

Olive loved the water, she would get in the irrgation ditch close to the house, with all her clothes on. Aunt Sadie said she could stop this, she made Olive a pretty crocheted bead necklace. She instructed Olive to never go in the water and get them wet, or wear them in the water. Olive went in the water again but this time she wasn’t wearing them but had them in her hand trying to keep them dry.

Olive vowed she never had worn these beads in the water. Sadie was furious, that her plan hadn’t worked.

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Amanuensis Monday--Elsie Crocker’s Manuscript, Part 11: Leisure Time

To read this project from the beginning, click here.

Sorry about the delay in publishing this installment of Elsie’s manuscript. For some reason it slipped completely off my radar last Monday. I suspect that may happen a few times this season as we all prepare for Christmas.

On one side of our property for a ways ran a canal. It was short distance from the house. The canal furnished some of the water Dad used for his irrigation. We had a good well for our drinking water. Our neighbor, Mr. Church got their household water from our well. Mr. Church would come with a wagon drawn by two horses and in the wagon was four big barrels. He would fill them up and then drive one half mile home.

This land on the other side of the canal, Mother called “wild” It was mostly sagebrush, where rabbits, a few harmless snakes, and a lot of wild flowers, lots of pretty mosses, I loved that pretty moss. The moss was soft like velvet. We had a lot of fun exploring this land. We would pick flowers for our mother. My brother Bill would find a wild rose for me, he knew I loved them, they were scarce.

In the winter time we loved to tracking their little foot prints in the snow. The foot prints usually lead to a hole in the middle of a sagebrush bush. Some times we would find a snake skin. Do you know they shed their skins every year. Some of them were whole length of the snake and some were torn and in pieces. These were our treasures.

At bedtime, after a day of exploring, Mother would check us for wood sticks. Sticks are dangerous left unnoticed. They work themselves into your body, to get out you have to be careful not to pull their heads off. The heads keep in digging. The ticks live in the sagebrush, will stick to who or what comes near them. They caught onto sheep and dogs and can be carried elsewhere. They can course scarlet fever.

Once in a while my brother would catch me a little cotton tail rabbit. He made a little pen for it. The pen had a mesh bottom, which we could move, every day to a new place on the back lawn. This kept him clean and gave him all the green grass he needed. His name from the white tip on his tail. It looked like a small ball of cotton. We’d have him for a few days then Mother would let it out. She said she never let him out but, “that the ol cat must have gotten him.” This happened several times, so Bill and I gave up getting them.

On Sunday, afternoons, Mom and Dad, in their bib and tucker would sit in their rockers and enjoy, a afternoon o relaxing. Dad would smoke his weekly cigar and finish reading his newspaper.

He always read the newspaper to her while she was busy getting breakfast. All of us kids liked to have them outside together, taking it easy for a change. My brothers and sisters would play on the lawn, close by. If it was very hot afternoon Mom would make us a drink from soda, vinegar, water and a little sugar. It sizzled and sputtered and tickled our noses when we drank it. Different from the cold drinks of today, we enjoyed it very much, we didn’t know any better. I think everyone did the same those days.

At night we would sit on the top steps and watch the pretty dragon flies dancing in the light, showing off their beautiful colorful wings.

We would play games on the lawn. Ring Around the Posy, Hide an Seek and Pump Pump Pullaway. Also Kick the Can which my mother didn’t like as she was afraid it would wear out ou shoes to fast.

One of these times I stepped on a wasp. The sting was so hot I thought, I had stepped on one of Dad’s cigarette butts, that was still a light. This was the first wasp I had ever been stung by. No fun. Wasps are larger then yellow jackets and mostly black, on their bodies. A wasp can sting many times but a honey bee but once. On a sting by a honey bee you had to pull out the stinger, the bee would die soon after. If we got stung we would run for some soft mud or for the soda box. They would help ease the pain. We had a lot of bees so we got stung many times, we also ran barefooted, we also had a clover lawn that had blossoms the bees loved.

Dad had many flowers, he was very proud of them. We weren’t allowed to pick them only for special occasions. He said they would last longer and look prettier outside, so everyone could see them. He always had violets, Mom loved the fragrance of the violets.

I am very curious about the game Elsie calls Pump Pump Pullaway. It is not one I have ever heard of from another source. I would be curious to learn how to play it.

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Amanuensis Monday--Elsie Crocker’s Manuscript, Part 10: Refrigeration to Pronunciation (And My Grandma in Between)

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This entry, by serendipitous coincidence, arrives with perfect timing. Last Thursday, as you probably know, we Americans celebrated Thanksgiving Day. This excerpt from Elsie’s manuscript includes a brief description of the birth of my grandmother, Aileen Underwood, who happened to be born on Thanksgiving Day in 1914. I wish that Elsie had written more in her manuscript about the event. She once described it to me in fuller detail, but I seem to have misplaced the notes I took on that visit. However, I do retain a vague impression of the Underwood family carrying on their Thanksgiving dinner the best they could, with Aunt Sadie acting as hostess, while Flora labored in her bedroom. Naturally, Flora would not have been left alone, but I can’t recall the details.

Perhaps Grandma’s birth—and mine as well—were symbolic of what would become important to us. I can imagine Grandma Aileen as a baby in her mother’s womb, realizing that the family was gathering and thinking to herself, “I want to be there, too!” Grandma was the one who first introduced me to my family tree. I remember visiting her and being fascinated with a piece of paper she had spread out on the dining room table. It was the first time I had ever seen one of those classic family tree diagrams, the kind with a picture of an actual tree, and names written on the branches. She explained to me how each branch was a part of the family, and the twigs growing off the branches were the children of the person listed on the branch, while the branches themselves were the children of the people listed on the trunk. I have been fascinated ever since.

Like Grandma, my birth interrupted a family gathering, though in a less dramatic fashion. My parents were able to go to a hospital rather than being in the next room. But I can imagine myself, in the same way as Grandma, sensing a gathering of the family and thinking, “I want to be there, too!” It is almost as though Grandma and I were destined from our births to be the genealogists for our branch of the family.

Incidentally, Elsie misspelled Grandma’s married name, forgetting an s. It should be “Brosius.”

We had two horses, Dick was a prett rome color with a perfect white star on his forhead. He had a lot of spirit. The other horse’s name was Nig, a coal black, but much slower nature than Dick. He was a good work horse.

One day my mom wanted someone to get the mail, our mail box was on apost, about a half mile doun the road. No one was around to ask to get the mail. So I said I would go and get it. She really didn’t want me to go alone on a horse, I had never been on one alone but I wasn’t afraid. I went and got Dick and put his halter on. He was in his stall in the barn. I climbed up the side of his stall. I climbed on his back, bare back and off I went. Everything was fine until I couldn’t reach the mail boxes. I slid off the horses back, got the mail. To get back on the horse again was another story. I was short, I was hardly up to the horse stomack, about six years old. How was I to get back on this horse. I didn’t have a saddle or a blanket, just the reins. Not a thing to pull up with.

All of a sudden I thought of our fence just across the road, it was the corner of our farm land. I pull the horse as as possible to the fence. The fence had barbed wire on the top of a heavy mesh like fence. I had to be careful no to get hurt on the stickery fence, so I stepped really careful on the fence top and pulled myself up on the horse. Horses are slippery without a saddle. I was so calm and not afraid. We arrived home safe and sound. Mother had been watching from her kitchen window. She said I thought you’d have to walk home. It’s a wonder he would stand still for you. I really think the horse knew we had to get home safely.

Mom was always looking for letters from her family, she never wrote home very much but always looked for news from home.

Aileen was born here on November 26th. It was Thanksgiving Day. She was named after Aunt Sadie’s daughter and my dad’s mother Maryann. Her name was Aileen Maryann Underwood. Her married name was Aileen Mary Ann Broius.

We finally got our root cellar which we needed badly. To keep the milk and cream, eggs, fruit and vegetables cool.

The root cellar was dug deep in the ground with a peaked roof. The walls were cement also the steps going doun in it. Also the floor, it was easy to keep clean. It was cool in the summer and hot in the winter, atleast warm enough to keep things from freezing.

Before we had this root cellar, we had no refrigeration Our milk was put into milk pans. The pans were round, about fourteen inches around and about four inches high. They were stacked one atop of the other, with two narrow slats of wood between each pan. We usually had two stacks with four pans high. The fresh milk was always put on the bottom to keep it rotated for freshness. The cream would form on the top, it would take about two days to collect. The cream was so thick you scrape it off with a large spoon. It was so thick. And oh so good.

One evening Mother and Dad went to see “Alexander the Great” Alexander the Great was to be in Meridan, just six miles away. Dad really wanted to so he persuaded Mom to go with him. They left early to be sure they would get there in time for the start.

The boys had the milking to do, I knew the milk had to be taken care of right away, went to the place she kept the milk. I pour the fresh milk into clean pans. I knew I had to put the old new milk on the bottom, there fore I had to lift off the old milk and put this new milk on the bottom. The pans of milk were layered withthese thin slates between layers. I was young and short, to short to reach the pans well. Especially on my tiptoes. This pan was a lot heavier than I wxpected, it slipped and spilt all over me and the floor. My brothers thought it funny, they did help me get cleaned up. I was so afraid to face my mother when she came home. I was afraid she’d scold me, but she didn’t. She knew I just wanted to help. She did tell me I was too young and to small to try doing these things that were to big for me. I didn’t like scoldings but my brothers told me “A scolding don’t last and a whipping didn’t last and they don’t dare to kill to kill me.”

When Aileen was born, my teacher and a man friend came over to see Mom and her baby. The man had whiskers, he asked me if the baby looked like him. I said No! He asked me Why? I couldn’t say whiskers. A “W” was real hard for me. I couldn’t say “biskers” so while he was in talking to Mom I practiced saying whiskers unti they came out of Mom’s room. Then I yelled, She doesn’t have any whiskers.” My teacher was so surprised “Just why couldn’t she teach me that. I never said biskers again.

Vinegar was another word I couldn’t pronounce. I called it “bingar” or bing bing. I had a friend who helped me on the word vinegar. We practiced one whole lunch time. But it was worth it.

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Amanuensis Monday--Elsie Crocker’s Manuscript, Part 9: Laundry and cleanliness

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These few pages of Elsie’s manuscript are a treasure trove of information on the everyday life of country women early in the twentieth century. It’s amazing to think of the changes that laundry, for example, has undergone in a single lifetime. Elsie and her sisters spanned the days of boiling shirts on the woodstove all the way to the modern technique of simply tossing everything into an electric washer. I’m sure they must have appreciated modern conveniences far more than anyone born and raised in our own era ever can.

You may also recognize a couple of the following paragraphs from my Halloween entry of last year. Now you will get to read them in their full context.

We had to iron most of our clothes, no dip dry or winkle proof or stain resistant. Sometimes stains were taken out by putting wet materials on the grass on a sunny day or rub a little salt on the stain if it’s stubborn. Milddew was common, if things weren’t used and laid around, they would collect damnest. Those days we never had heat all thru the house in the wintertime. A little lemon juice sprinkled on the spots and placed in the sun would come out easy. Grass stains were the most and hardest those days. The spots had to washed and then rub with soap and layed in the sun.

The girls wore dresses and slips, blacksateen bloomers. And black, long stockings Rarely did we have white stockings. We wore our hair in braids, with ribbons to hold the braids. I hated those braids and would take them doun on our way home. Mother never could figure out how they came doun, and I never told her. The children we walked home with would say how pretty my hair looked doun.

No slacks, shorts, pedal pushers, sleeveless blouses, pretty sweaters. No shells. We had gingham or calico dresses Shoes were MaryJanes, black, Oxfords, high shoes that came almost to your knees. Laced or buttoned. Pretty pretty awful. We didn’t know any different Everyone had the same. Maybe this is why they taught “Pretty is as pretty does”.

Mother wore ankle long dresses. She had a skirt and a pretty blouse, she wore on Sundays. She had a pretty pin she wore at the neck of her blouse.

We used oil cloth to cover our tables. They were easily cleaned, just wipe off with a damp cloth. Years later we had some cloth ones, Indianhead and a linen one for company. The Indian and linen, had to be real damp in order to iron them. With the irons we had those days, it took a couple of hours to iron one cloth.

The boys and men, wore overalls and jeans made of the overall material. The men wore dark blue serge pants to dress up. Those blue and white stripe coveralls were all most like some of the boys wore then. We called them milkman’s pans.

The irons were made of iron and heated on top of the stove If they got to hot they were pushed to the far side of the range top. The irons had a wooden removable handle. You needed about four irons to keep them hot enough, to do your whole ironing. On handle fitted all irons, the handle would clamp on top of the iron. If too hot it would scorch, to cold it wouldn’t iron. To hard to push across the article to ironed. So you had to test it by wetting your finger tip and touching it ever so lightly, if it spit, it was ready. Mom would clean her irons by wiping them on newspaper. This still is a good way to clean your iron. Only now rub your iron over a little bees wax or parafine then wipe it off.

Dad’s shirts were hard to iron, they had cold starched separate collars. The shirts were starched and then dried and then dampened doun real well. They were left several hours between dampening and ironing, for easier ironing. To dampen the clothes we would have a pan of water, dip one hand in the water and then shake over the clothes to be ironed. The collars of the shirts were really stiff. The collars were held on to the shirt in the back with a collar button. In the front of the shirt with the top button of the shirt. The men wore quite a number of bow ties.

Our clothes was two post set up, between these posts was rope. Usually two or three lines. Depending the distance between the post. Sometime we used to have to have props in the middle to keep the lines from sagging. Some of the clothes were long and heavy when wet. Especially Dads long johns.

The clothes were dried outside, if it rained they were hung on one of the porches. Monday was always wash day. The old saying “if there was enough blue in the sky to make a Scotchman a pair of britches” your washing would get dry.

They had no dryers, washing machines, no washing powder. The clothes were scrubbed on a washboard, with hoemade soap made from lard or fat and lye, hard on the hands. The fat was saved from the cooking of their meats.

No running water in the house, all had to be carried in The white clothes were put in a boiler on top of the stove and boiled. She had a certain stick to take the clothes out of the hot water.

Our wash basin, to wash our hands and face was on the back porch. We would wipe our hands and face, on a huck roller towel. The towel was a long one about one and half yds. Sewed together in the middle and then put on a roller. You’ve seen these they have them in some washrooms now. You would use what you needed then pull it doun a little so the next guy would have a clean spot. After all was used it would be removed and a clean one replaced the dirty one. No soft towels then.

We drank water from a long handle dipper, from a water pail that sat on our back porch.

With a barn and lots of animals we had a lot of flies. My mother hated them, she hung fly paper from the ceiling of the back porch. No matter how careful you are with this flypaper it is so sticky on one side. No fly can escape. The wind had blown one of these doun on the back porch which landed on the floor. My mother had called me in and I was in a hurry, I landed both feet right on this fly paper. It was awful, Mother came to help, she finally got a chair for me to sit on. She could get at it better. Between us we got that sticky mess off. It took a lot of soap and elbow grease to get the stickyness loose. She told me next time watch were I was going.” My dad had a good laugh over it. He said “We’ve really caught a big fly this time.” I didn’t think it was funny and I’m sure Mother did’t either. She was afraid I would get it on her floor, she was very particular about her floors.

My dad would take a bath sometimes in the canal, but we couldn’t because we didn’t know how to swim. Our baths were in the wash tub.

We didn’t have a bathroom in our house. Just a out house or (privy) as they were called. This was a small shed like type building, located a short distance from the house. Inside was a long seat across the back with holes small medium, and large, with covers, when not in use you put the cover on. Lye was used to keep it clean and oderless.

At night we would carry a lantern to see our way. One of the older ones would walk out with us, and stand out side and wait for us.

    

On Hallowe’en the big boys in the neighborhood, would like to tip one of these over, hoping someone was inside. They never got ours, maybe because we had a fence all the way round our place. The fence had barbed wire on top of the mesh fence, hard to climb.

No plumbing inside we had a poe (jerry or thunder mug) under the bed to use when we needed it at night. They even had different sizes of those. These were only used in emergencies.

Some of the poes were made of granite or china, they usually had a handle on one side, kept under the bed. Each had a cover.

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Amanuensis Monday--Elsie Crocker’s Manuscript, Part 6: Aunt Sadie

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Walter and Flora Underwood had left their family behind in England when they came to America, and then left their Hawkes cousins behind when they left Idaho Falls, Idaho. Only their son Walter had ever met any of his extended family, and he had been a baby at the time. But in this installment of Elsie Crocker’s manuscript, things are about to change.

Dad was surprised when his youngest sister showed up. She arrived from England, was the first relative we had ever seen. We were excited, we had a lot of relatives in England, but England was a long way off. One thing we missed, by Dad and Mom coming to America, was not knowing our cousins, grandparents, aunts and uncles. It seemed all friends had some relatives near by. That’s why Dad always wanted six children, he got his wish. He didn’t want us to be left alone, when he and Mom were gone.

One Thanksgiving, Aunt Sadie invited our family, for dinner. Dad gave us strict orders, to eat everything on our plate. Aunt Sadie was very much English. Very proud very stylish and spoke with an accent. We were young, and been raised Americans, we thougkt her quite different.

Dad wanted to impress her with his children, mind your manners, eat everything on your plate. Like it or not

Well I ate every thing but a huge big green olive. I put my tongue on it and it tasted awful. No, way was I going to eat that olive. I put it back on my plate, it even larger than ever. I didn’t know what to do I had to get rid of that olive, but how? I waited until all people were busy talking. I wasn’t very old about four and a half. I wore these black sateen bloomers, that had elastic around the legs just above the knees. I waited until no one was watching, I slipped that olive safely in one of my pant legs. When I thought everyone was thru their dinner, I excused myself. I hurried outside with that olive dangling in my pant leg. Being sure no one was watching, I let that olive out. I had never see a olive that big before. Our family never could aford olives no matter ripe ones or green ones.

My sister Olive was born, May fourth, in Burley Idaho She was named after “Olive Fremstead”, who was Doctor Fremstead’s daughter. Olive Mabel Fremstead, became a well known opera singer. My sisters name was Olive Mabel Underwood.

Aunt Sadie sang too I don’t know where it was opera or not. I do remember sometimes when she was going to sing she would, ask Mother if she had a lemon. She told us it would clear her throat so she could sing better.

We moved to Boise, we had a next door neighbor. Who had a big pear tree. Under the tree next to our house was a cellar door. (Basement doors were outside those days.) If a ripe pear would fall on that door or on our side. the neighbor told us we could have them. So you can guess who got the pear or pears. Dad would say “The early bird gets the worm”. I was all ways a early riser. Mother loved pears so much, she usually got my pears I picked up. She would share, with the rest of us.

Our neighbor, whose name was Alvy Mason, became our uncle. We were all surprised to see them together, we never even knew they knew each other. We were all happy because we had known him before.

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