Document text
BEGIN
Filename
37130911
Title
A. A. Carleton
Accession no.
it 1
Date received
Consignment no.
Shipped from
Label
Amount
WPA L. C. PROJECT 1.4-1/1e11.40 UNIT
Form -3
Collection (or Type)
2.(LAI.,41 aliVeere.
Place of orighi241,94, DateZ.7.3.4V3,Z.
Project workeralkeeC.e.C4,
Project editor
Remarks.1-41G1-47,4,,,„„,—,4-7-14,- e-
t
7714 Cilde;
FORM C
Vermont
West Newbury
(Mm.) Rebecca M. Halley
_/-December 5, 1938
Folklore A. A. Carleton Nov. 19, 1938; Nov. 28, 1938; Dec.
1, 1938
"Well, have I drove oxen? Ha-ha! We always had oxen an
the place. Way back when this town was first settled they had
to have a plow, a yoke o' steer and one horse, then they could
set up the log house and break out the land. They used to
make their awn harrows out of a tree crotch, forked like ol
this. They'd put a ring in the one end to hitch up to and
then bore holes in the two arms for wooden pins. The pins
was eight -ten inches long ant if one snapped off they'd, on
the spot, whittle out another then and there an' punch it in.
The yoke of oxen was hitched to the plow and the old mare up
front, then round through the stumps they went. Next develop-
ment that come on the harrows was teeth top ant bottom. When
they snagged up they'd just give the harrow a quick twist like
this and over she'd go.
"Oxen was better for breakin' out than horses for when
they'd come to a snag on a 'stump or a root they'd ease off.
Horses that got held up like that would throw into the dollars
and heave like to snap somethinl. Oxen was better all round
farm animals and they still be, if folks warnt in such a dumbed
v4 14131
2.
hurry. You take a pair yoked steers and they could move anythint
under the sun. If they couldn't you could always git enough so's
could. They'd eat pretty good, take about the same as horses to
feed 'em, but when they got along about five -six years old and
past their prime, they could be turned into beef. If any ac-
cident came to one, breakint a leg or the like, you could always
dress 'em off. 'T want a loss. Can't do that if it's a horse.
"Oh, we always had a pair ot young bulls comint along.
Wean 'em, break 'em, pasture 'em, castrate 'em, pasture 'em an-
other year, train 'em some more and by the time they was up,
the pair you had could be sold or dressed off. Look here, that's
my grandsir's picture. Now he was a tall man come nigh to six
feet look at them oxen stand well up with him, don't they?
Well, that was a pair. They'd each measure a good three feet
between the horns. Grandsir could drive now, too.
"In those days when they wanted to move a building they'd
hitch the three-four yoke oxen on each corner, put the thing on
rollers and away they'd go slow but stiddy. The first yoke that
come was the lead team, the ones between was the swing teams and
the one on the pole was the pole team. When they first rolled
the roads in winter they'd hitch six -seven yoke on to the roller.
Then oxen got too slow and they took to horses and have six pair
on. This picture is the road roller all hitched up to go over
the mountain, you see, they've got eight pair horses on. Road
rollers made a fine road. 'Twas all good going till spring and
the snow began to slump. If you got off the edge of the snow
path the runners cut in and over you'd go. The rollers was
4.
that plow went clean through the stump like a hot knife through
butter. They was going so fast that John sailed right up over
the top and when the plow left the stump it snapped shet and
caught him right by the seat of the britches. The oxen kept a
pulling, the britches held, the stump stayed shet an' John
hollered to Jim, 'Hy-ar, give lem th' gad, John! It's cominl
out, blGod! MI mother made these genuses!' The boys got ten
cord of wood out of that stump!
"When we lived over to the other place the folks next door
had 'a dog, tramp dog, mean about stealing. Every chance he had
he'd get into Father's shed and take off with whatever he could
get holt of. Grandsir was shinglin, up the place where the dog
lived. That day Father set a bait for the dog. He fixed up a
split piece of round wood and put a chip in to keep it open
about half way down the stick. Wall, the dog was busy and Father
snuck up on him and put the piece of wood over his tail and turned
the chip sideways. That dog started for somewhere's else on the
double quick with the piece of wood lashing his sides, yelping
at every jump. Grandsir heard him coming and he saw the direc-
tion he come from. Mr. and Mrs. Atwood was all concerned.
"'my, my that nalighty mean man, to do that to the little
doggie. Whoever d'you slpose it could be, Mr. Carleton?'
"Grandsir didn't commit himself but when he got home he
said he sort of rectoned from the direction the dog come and
all, that he knew who the 'naughty man' was!
"Tucker Mountain gets its name from a family of Tuckers
that lived there. Yes, you can see the old cellar hole right
5.
there at the top of the hill just as you turn off the road. No,
they didn't burn down, they just fell to pieces because they
wa'n't used. Why did folks settle way up on top of everything
like that? Wall, 'twas because it was easier to clear from the
top of the hills down. They cut and fell the timber all winter
and burned it in the spring. They'd begin at the top and lay
the stuff as they went down the sides of the mountain. Then
when the snow went off they rolled it all dowh into the valleys
and burned it. There was plenty of wood, more wood then any-
thing else and it was of no great value. That's when the potash
and lye business got its start. They took those ashes from the
spring burning and put them in a big box. Then they ran water
through and what leached out they boiled down in the big potash
kitties. We got one of them out on the stone wall, and there
is another up in your Pals barnyard.
"Another thing they did here about a hundred years ago was
to run a starch factory down on the falls below your house.
They made potato starch and a good many acres of land round
these parts was used for raising potatoes them days. There
never was a trout in the upper brook here in our meadow, for
they couldn't get up over the falls, until Grandsir one day was
fooling round with a friend there at the starch factory. They
were waiting on their turn to unload their potatoes into the
bin. The boys went down to the lower brook below the falls to
eat their dinners and when they got done they filled their din-
ner pails with six -eight trout_ apiece and took them up above
the falls and put them in the brook. There have always been
6.
trout up here in our meadow ever since.
"There was Uncle Guy Corliss used to live up on the mountain.
When he was a young man he'd start from the mountain with a hundred
of wheat on his shoulders to go to the grist mill in Happy Hollow
to get it ground out. Along the way there were leaning trees
fixed where he could rest his load without having to set it down
on the ground and pick it up again. Oh, it's a good three-four
miles from Uncle Guy's to Happy Hollow. He was a very polite
man, very tall, well over six feet. I can remember him, he had
a fringe of whiskers, short and white all round his face from
ear to ear, and the rest was clean shaved. On his grey locks
he wore a Scotch cap and usually we would meet him on his way
to the store with his little basket of two -three dozen eggs.
He always stopped and swept his little cap off his head and with
a great bow, clear to the ground he'd say, 'Good morning, boys
and girls, good morning.'
"We children were a little in awe of him but we liked him
because he was so polite to us. He believed in the woodchuck
sign for the end of winter. He always held to it that the
woodchuck knew. He had a pet one out in his dooryard and he
watched it careful year after year and he said the woodchuck
never failed to do right about the spring.
"Then there was Uncle Joel Putnam. He wer'n't really Uncle,
but in those days all the youngones round about called the older
folks Uncle and Aunt. We were like a big family. 1Twain't so
formal as Mr. This and Mrs. That, but it wer'n't so fresh as
the use of the Christian names like they do now. Well, Uncle
7.
Joel had something the matter with his neck and he always held
his head twisted to one side like this, all the time. When he
got to thinkinl, drivinl the team or a yoke of oxen, he ran his
tongue out and held it there between his teeth. He had a deep
heavy voice and when he came down off the mountain you could
hear him clear to the village.
"'Hi-yup thar, hi-yup thar,' he'd beller.
"When he came in sight he'd still be bellerin' in between
times chewing his tongue and twirling the gad -stick round and
round in his left hand. Him and Aunt Liddy didn't have any
children of their own and they kind of adopted the whole kit
and Min' of the village youngones. Uncle Joel had a Concord
wagon with a big stowaway place under the seat and when they'd
meet the youngones a lgoinl or a comm' It the school, they'd
take them all on or in. Didn't matter how many. Th' thing
would be bristlin' with youngones.
"When Ed and Mattie Putnam got married they was to set up
house down here on the farm at the foot of the hill. Wall,
the day after they was married they come over and started to
red up a bit. The young folks in the village thought they was
planning to stay there so they got up a jamboree for 'em. Come
long towards the latter part of the afternoon, Ed and Mattie
hitched up the buggie and went over to her folks at Newbury
Center to spend the night. George Put, Ed's brother, worked
here for Father then and when Father got wind of it he and
George put their heads together. Father says to George says
fe, 'George, if you can get into that house now that Ed ant
8.
Mattie are gone we will fool the young bloods proper.'
"II sure can,' says George.
"Now George ant Ed was like enough so as to pass for each
other by lamplight in a crowd, so he and Father fixed it up.
George went down round through the back pasture and c -limb in
the back winder. Then a bit later Mother and Father locked
arms and strolled down the road to call on the new -weds. They
knocked and went in and George he lit up a lamp just as though
they was all there. That was to fool the sentries. Little
bit later Father and Mother come out the door, says, tQood-
night all,' quite proper and went up the road. Father left
Mother at the top of the hill and scud round through the back
pasture and climb in the winder where George got it. (Climb
is pronounced c -limb, as the limb of a tree)
At that time there was a shoemaker's shop, just down the
road from the house, under the big fir tree. 'Twas about as
big as this roam, maybe
burst open and out come
horns and bells and the
a little bigger. Pretty soon the door
thirty -forty young folks. They had
devil ant all. They hooted and shouted
and had a regtlar time. Father says tt George, says te, 'Now
I'll stay hid in the bedroom ant when you can't hold 'em any
longer you come in after 'your wife? and we'll have the laugh
on them.'
When the racket got worst George opened the foor and in
they come a piling. The house was pretty well filled up.
George kept shy of the lamp and got 'em all set round. Then
they began to shout for Mattie. George says, says le, !nets
9.
In the bedroom. Jest a minit, I'll get her.'
"Wall, they broke out in an awful clatter when George went
to the bedroom door, but it was pretty quiet when Father come
out on his arm, bowin' and smilint and simperinf.
"Oh, God boys,' says Will. 'It's George Put ant Dud Carle-
ton! Let's get out ol here!'
"'Oh, derie me, don't HURHZ11 says Father, sweet as pie.
"But they all went. Then they talked in the road half way
up the hill and sent scouts up to Ed's father's to see if they
was there. They didn't like being done out of the serenade.
Mother was hid in the bushes beside the road and Father out up
round to join her and they heard all the planning. The young
folks was going to give Ed and Mattie another jamboree the next
night but it never came to pass. Father and George took care
of that.
"We used to have the best huskin's here. Five hundred
bushels husked in one eveninl. The barn was full and we had
it laid out in rows all over the lawn. It was all lit with
lanterns and the W. N. Fife and Drum Corp played the evening
through. Oh, they had six -seven players. After they got the
buskin' done they had all the punkin' pie, apple pie, doughnuts,
cider they could hold. Then came the stunts. That was the
best of the whole evening. We rode the broom stick, played
woodchuck and wrastled. They did all sorts of strong man tricks
and capers. Riding the broom stick was putting a broom stick
through the handles of a half bushel basket and swinging it on
two chairs. It was quite a trick to get in and stay right side
10.
up. Woodchuck was to get two fellows down on their knees and
hands then take a strap about like a holdback strap and pt it
round both their necks. Then they'd pull: The fellow that
could pull strongest would take the other one over. There was
one time they had a pair of fellows pretty well matched doing
woodchuckinl. Father and another feller got a couple of pins
and took stand right behind each of the boys. When one would
get the edge on the other and rare back he'd run into the pin,
that would make him ease up a bit and the other fellaw'd get
the edge on him, than he'd get to feel the pin. I tell you
'twas nip and tuck with the pins to keep it a goint.
"Mere was more honor and decency in those days than there
is now. They played hard and rough but women was looked up to
more than they be now."