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Connecticut Valley Yankee Farmer
M. T. Cragg A son of generations
of Connecticut Valley farmers
STATE Massachusetts
KAUE OF WORKER. Robert Wilder
ADDRESS Northfield, Massachusetts
DATE January 13, 1939
SUBJECT Living Lore
NAME OF INFORMANT M. T. Cragg
ADDRESS Northfield, Massachusetts
Mr. Cragg lives in the section of
Northfield known as "The Mountain",
on an old farm where he was born and
his father before him. His lean,
gaunt frame is stooped, believig
its great height, his face is
weather-beaten and lined, but his
eyes are bright and light up with a
twinkle when something strikes him
funny.
Name: Robert Wilder
Title: Living Lore
Assignment: Northfield
Topic: .416 T. Cragg
"Yep, I'm the last of the Craggs. Ain't no one else of that
name, even, anywhere around here. Wouldn't set me down for being over
eighty, would ye? I used to be six foot one and weigh over two
hundred pounds. But darned if I ain't shrunk. I ain't over six feet
now and I don't weigh but a hundred and fifty. Why ain't I ever
married? Hehl hell! You might a -guessed why by looking at me. But
't ain't no secret.
"When I was young I wan't quite so dum humly as I be now.
When I put b'ar's grease on my boots and more on rig hair to make it
lay back slick I wa'n't such a hard lookin' character at least
I don't think I was. I used to beau the girls 'round quite a bit, too.
But father was taken poorly. And he got to worrying about what was
going to happen to mother and the family if he passed on. I was the
oldest of the family, and he got me to promise that I would stay to
hum and look after mother and the boys if anything happened, to him.
I promised. And father up and died. I carried on the farm with the
boyrsqielp. And I was dum busy. I didn't care to sit up all night
goin' to dances, and my girl friends got to going with somebody else.
By and by they married. So did my brothers and I stayed home looking
after liother. She didn't die 'til I was past seventy, and the
rheumatiz had kind of sot in here and there, so I figgered my marrying
days was over. Don't think I shall ever get ambition enough to marry,
so, fur's I can see, I'm the last of the Craggs.
(2)
Name: Robert Wilder
Title: Living Lore
Assignment: Northf ie id
Topic: M. T. Crag
"I've lived all my life on this mountain farm. It was home-
steaded by my ancestors before they called it homesteading. My folks
way back settled here before the Revolution, and the land ha a been
in the hands of the Craggs ever since. Course that ain't any record
for Northfield. I know a coupla families whose folks settled here long
before the Revolution when the king owned the land. They don't have
any deed to their land, got it by a grant from the king.
"Near as we can figger it out, part of this house is the same
one that my folks way back built. We figgered they first built a
cabin, then added to it. Kept building on rooms as they needed 'em,
and finally they built on the upper storey or their children,
or grandchildren did. Don't suppose the addition that my father built
on would be considered much in these days the bay winders and the
porches, and that jig saw stuff around for ornaments. We thought it
was pretty fine when it was first done, though. He was hoping to get
money enough ahead so's he could spare a little and build a kind of a
silo on the corner with a candle snuffer for a roof a round tower,
you know. That would have been real toney. But he never got 'round
to it.
"No, they ain't much money in farming cash money, I mean.
The way I figger it, no one ever made any money on these farms by
farming. They made it in real estate. First, a feller would get
tired of living somewheres too many people around, probtly, and
he'd take up a farm out in the wilderness, cut dawn the trees and build
(3)
Name: Robert Wilder
Title: Livina Lore
Assignment: Northfield
Topic: L4_13._ skaaa
a cabin. He'a plant a few crops, work a sugar bush p'raps, but he'd
depend pretty heavy on the hunting for fresh meat. He could sell his
sugar for enough to get powder and shot. And that, with the skins
of the animals he'd shot, or trapped gave him all the cash money he
ever see. 'Course, other people moved in around him. The hunting
goes worse the more that come, and mebbe he couldn't get enough cash
money to keep himself in rum. He wants to get out. He can't take
his place with him. But as people are moving in all the time, he can
sell. And sell it he does. That gives him a block of real cash
money, the biggest he ever had in his life. That's when the feller
was lucky enough to move into a place where other people came. That
feller made money. But if he'd got into a place that he couldn't
sell even if 't was a better farm he'd a -been stuck. That's why
I say that farmers that make any money make it in real estate and not
in farming.
"Course in a way farmers are better off than city folks though
it depends on what you mean by being well off. If you have to make
money to be happy the farm is no place to live. Most people seem to
think that they have to have money in order to buy something that they
can get without any money on the farm. What I mean is, yer never hear
of a farmer starving to death, or freezing either. He don't have to
run around looking for a job nuther. 'Course, a farmer could freeze
if he was such a dum fool that he wouldn't cut the wood on his own
place. And I suppose he could starve if he didn't know enough to put
(4)
Name: Robert Wilder Assignment: Northfield
Title: Living Lore Topic: M. T. Crawg
in his crops. And he could come dum near croakin' if he didn't know
enough to keep everlastingly at things. But, if a feller liken to work,
and work for himself, he can p'robily enjoy life more on a farm than
he can anywhere else. 'T ain't no place for a lazy man, though.
"Course in the old days a farm was a pretty tough place. It's
a lot better now than it was as far at amusement is concerned. What
with the radio and the automobile the farm isn't half bad. But we had
fun in our day, too. We didn't go through life with no fun at all,
you can bet.
"Prob'ly the best fun we had that the young people don't have
now was husking bees. You know about them? Well, the big idea was
to get somebody's corn husked. Instead of working at it, we played at
it. But the work got done just the same. The idea of the game was
simple enough. A bushel of the unhusked ears were dumped before each
player and an empty basket was provided to place the husked ears in.
'Course, the bee was held in the barn, which was all lighted up with
lanterns hanging from the beams, and the place made extry neat. If a
feller found a red ear when he was husking his pile, it was a ticket that
allowed him to go down the line and kiss all the girls. If a girl
found one, she could go and kiss all the fellers but she didn't. No
sir, she hid it, or tucked it under some feller's pile. 'T was dum
funny how many red ears they was in just ordinary corn. 'Course, what
happened was that the fellers would save the red ears from other huskings
even kept 'em fron other years and would arrive at a husking with
(5)
Name: Robert Wilder
Title: Living Lore
Assignment: Northfield
Topic: pi, T. Cram
a bag full. The feller that was giving the husking would see to it
that they was plenty of red ears in his corn, too.
"I don't remember as we each went and got our girls as we did
when they was a dance. Most generally we took a big wagon and put hay,
or straw, in the bottom of it, with plenty of buffeler robes on top,
and then drove around and got everybody. The robes came from the West.
Lots of us had buffeler coats, too. Wore 'em 'til the hair was all gone
in patches, and holes got worn clean through the hide. You don't see
any of 'em nowadays, but they was cheap then.
"After we got the corn all husked we was invited into the house
to have a bite to eat. And they was always plenty regular church
sociable layout. I don't remember much what 't was, 'cept pies and
cakes and nuts and cider afterwards when we played games. All kinds
of apples they was too, Porters and Northern Spies, and Blue Pearmains.
Those Blue Pearmains seem to have all disappeared. They was a large apple,
sweet, but a good flavor. They had a tough skin, though, and the skin
was blue. That is, they was a kind of blue powder on it that you could
rub off. And then the apple was bright red.
"None of the old folks had any teeth, them days. So, course,
they couldn't bite apples without peeling 'em. It used to be quite a
stunt to see who could peel an apple without breaking the akin. Most
anybody could do it if they used a Pearmain. And then the stunt was
to see who had the longest peel. 'Course, to cut a long peel, the
feller'd have to cut it thinner. 'Nother thing they'd do would be to
peel an apple, cuttin' pretty deep. Then they'd cut around the core
and wind the peel back, making it look like a whole apple again.
They'd put it in with the others and watch somebody try to pick it
(6)
Name: Robert Wilder
Assignment: Northfield
Title: Living Lore Topic: As—Is-SEME
up. There was another way to fool them. We'd take a big needle
and some strong thread and sew around the middle of the apple,
putting the needle back in again where it broke the skin ccming out
so the thread would be all the way 'round the apple just under the
skin, and the skin not damaged much. When we got round to where we
started, we'd pull both ends of the thread, and we'd cut that apple
in two, under the skin. When we got done, we'd polish up the apple
and put it with the others, handy, and watch for some apple peeler
to tackle that one. When he come to the center in his peeling the dum
thing would fly in two, and he'd be out of the peelinl race that time.
"I dunno as all these things would work today with the bright
electric lights. Best light we had was dim compared to them. But we
uidn't miss the bright lights none specially in playing post office
which was a regular stand-by at all parties and is yet, so I hear,
th-eram44,
"We used to play 'Spin the Platter' too. That game gives
you a good chance to show off how graceful you are. I've seen fellers,
and girls too, bend over to pick up the platter and be so dun awkward
that they'd kick the thing before they could reach it with their hands.
Jhen a feller plain fell down, he was generally helped out by some
'Smart Alec' tripping him up. Guess some of us was real devils. We
used to embarass the girls by shying one of those white buttons such
as they used for underwear out into the middle of the ring when some
girl stooped over. 4: but wouldn't they blush: One feller improved
on this by tearing his handkerchief in two with a loud rip when one bent
(7)
Name: Robert Wilder
Title: Living Lore
Assignment: Northfield
Topic: M. T. Gregg
over. He got sat on for that. It wasn't considered funny. It was
vulgar.
"Yes, we held hands and put our arms around the girls when we
got a chance. But it was always on the sly. We never drank liquor
the way the young folks do now) so they tell me. The old folks used
to sit in the kitchen and play cards and drink hard cider. But us
fellers never drank a drop. And, if any of the girls did we didn't
know it. That would have finished them. No staying out all
hours of the night, either. Ten o'clock was considered real late.
And every party broke up at that time."
At this point Mr. Cragg poured himself a generous glass of hard
cider from the antique pitcher before him, and set down his glass
with geometrical precision on the checkered table cloth. After due
consideration of the small bubbles appearing from nowhere and float-
ing up through the amber liquid to burst at the top with a slight
hiss and an entrancing aroma, he said with a twinkle, "You see, I'm
one of the old folks now so I can drink the hard stuff. Don't have
to worry about the girls not liking it."