found its way, or was put under, Ab’s bed; that one or two of the boys Arch Mitchell and Cliff Jasper among them -—- had ways of clearing camp clutter by the simple device of throwing everything under the beds. A great time was had by all.

Later still , Alex and Lou had a cottage at the lake, where everyone but Alex stayed all week. With Mother and sister Margaret on the premises, house- keeping was more circumspect. Alex, who was on the road with insurance business week—days between seed-time and harvest, would arrive Friday night with a load of groceries. Curious about the next week’s menu, the boys would help unload bags and boxes before everyone went for a swim.

Swimming highjinks led to the annual erection of a diving tower. That was an adventure in itself. Every spring a tower was built of new green poplar poles. The carpentry was easily completed during the week. On the weekend when Dad and one or two other men would be there to assist and direct, came the grand launching. Relay groups would make up a team, take a deep breath and dive to pushipull their tower into deep water: From the water's edge to a depth of eight

feet required a good many dives for all concerned.

Apparently the effort was of real value. For years, the launching of the tower was the major spring ritual. ~— Bob and Lex Rutherford reminiscences

Scrub Hockey

The old~timers of Wycollar district, though short of cash, found their lives a source of satisfaction and pleasure. Still many in the area will remember the scrub hockey matches on the Guy Cayford slough with George Rutherford on one team and Alex on the other.

What opponents they weret An err-locker might wonder if they would ever speak to each other agéln.

When the game was over George would be al- ways in great haste to get away home. Alex, who was always slowed up by having Lou and the youngsters to load into his sleigh, would be slower getting away.

Yet when they finally reached home, what would they see but George’s team waiting outside the door, while big George was inside getting the fire going and everything cosy. To Lou’s complete astonish— ment and never-ending wonderment, those two boy] men played the games all through again, killing themselves laughing at all their escapades.

No hard feelings whatever, each was ready for another attack, whenever the weather would cooper- ate. N or until the following day were the bumps and bruises of the fray felt in all their glory, and they limped around all crippled up like old men.

«-- Alexander Lees Rutherford, 1890—1958 and George Rutherford, 1888-1973 (Source: Lou (Crawford) Rutherford, 1890-1970)

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Getting Ready for the Affair

The second floor of Sunnyacre farmhouse was the scene of many memorable occasions, since the parents used a main floor bedroom and dressing for a major social event could be quite an experience:

1. Always ahead of everyone else Geordie used to dress in all the choice items and start parading impatiently back and forth outside in all his finery while the other boys raced around upstairs searching in vain for their belongings. “You know where it will be, they would remind one another. “Yes, but none of us can take it off him, ’cause he’s the biggest!”

2. Agnes always wanted the best of clothes. She dressed and sewed beautifully. Once her father, after inspecting her appearance {of which he was very proud) refused to let her wear a large picture hat. He thought she was “too conceited in that hat”. If she wanted to go at all, she was to take the hat back upstairs. She did, too. His word was law.

3. One summer’s day when the girls were dress— ing for 21 Picnic and Sport’s Day at Uncle Sandy Rutherford’s farm, they took turns “lacing” one an- other. Mattie Kennedy and Mary were reputed to have the smallest waists in the community; but Agnes was anxious to try to match them. 2kg held firmly to the iron bedpost in the southwest bedroom while sisters Jean and Mary pulled her tight with lean’s knee in the small of Ag’s back. They managed, and passed the downstairs inspection; but before the pic- nic was a few hours old, the girls had to retire into the elm grove and do some unlacing. In the heat, she could neither eat nor breathe!

(Source: Jean Rutherford, 1882-1957)

After the year’s work was all done in the autumn, there was always the Thanksgiving Fowl Supper to look forward to, one of the highlights of our Spartan existence. All the ladies of the district would bake and cook in preparation for the great event. When the day arrived, turkeys would be stuffed and popped into the oven, turned and busted at exactly the right moment, then packed with plenty of newspaper and rushed to the Tarbolton School basement where we congregated in droves.

Long tables would be set up, flanked by benches made of bare planks. Table cloths would be spread end to end down the long rows and the feast would begin. And what a feast it would be! Turkey, stuffing, vegetables, crisp salads, delectable pumpkin pies topped with real whipped cream, and tea by the bucket—— strong and black. Some mighty fine cooks in Tarbolton district vied with one another to see who could produce the tastiest morsels. Several of the men had an eye on what they surmised might be the best buns or pies. It was a matter of some pride if you