Rag Dolls and Purple Coaches: A Memoir part 7

I am continuing my mother’s story of her years
growing up.  She was born in 1908.  To read earlier parts
of her story, just type “rag dolls” in the search box up at
the right, and a series of older posts will come up for you
to choose from.

“Along the three mile road to school there was a big hill
named Allen Hill.  About halfway down that hill there was
a big rocky ledge that sloped to the edge of the road.  Dennis
had discovered a little round hole in that rock that had like a
special cover you could take off.  It was a perfect tiny treasure
chest.

So, now, whenever he lost a tooth we would stop at the
ledge and Dennis would put it in there for safe keeping.  If the
tooth came out at home we stopped in the morning, if it came
out at school we made the deposit on our way home.

The time came when there were eight teeth there and no one
knew it but us.  It was our secret.  One day, years after when
we were both grown up we drove up that old road.   We stopped
at the ledge.  Sure enough the treasure chest was still there, so
were the teeth.  Dennis took them out then and put them in
his pocket.

The big horse barn had several stalls in it for horses.  It also had
another room.  In that was a real coach that had belonged to
some one who had lived there long ago.

a "purple coach" but not the original

a “purple coach” but not
the original

 

 

The seats were covered with purple velvet and there were vases on the inside walls
to put flowers in.  It had curtains at its
windows of gold colored silk and gold stencils decorated the black  (paint)
outside.  The front seat was built up higher than the back and was for the
coachman and the footman to ride on.

 

We used to play for hours in that coach.  We were queens and
Cinderella and everyone we could pretend would ride in a coach.

Near the schoolhouse was the river.  On the opposite side was
a road that went into the woods.  A lady named Miss Potter lived
along on that woodsy road.  We used to see her walking with her
two big St. Bernard dogs.  There was another family on that road,
too, and they had two children older than me who went to school.
The girl’s name was Hepzibah and the boy’s name was Lincoln.
He was tall and thin and we thought he was probably named after
Abraham Lincoln.

The river was usually quiet along there except in the spring when
all the snows from the mountains melted into it.  Then it was wild
and fast and the lumbermen from miles north put their big logs
into the water to float them to the mill in Warrensburg.  Sometimes
there would be so many logs that they would jam up way across the
river.

Mom at left, Mary on right, near the log jam on the river.©booksandbuttons

Mom at left, Mary on
right, near the log jam on the river.©booksandbuttons

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

One day Lincoln walked to school across the log jam but Hepzibah
came by the road and the bridge.”

 

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2 Responses to Rag Dolls and Purple Coaches: A Memoir part 7

  1. Buttondeb says:

    Love the story about the teeth!
    I think we need to bring back those old names. Hepzibah is much more elegant and substantial than “Apple” or “Blanket “, don’t you think? Wonder what became of her….

    • booksandbuttons says:

      Yes, Buttondeb, the story about the teeth is
      one of my favorite ones. And—-Hepzibah-what
      a name! You do wonder . . .

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