By Gladys McCarthy – Tisdale, Sask.
I really enjoy The Senior Paper! Many of the stories remind me of life as it was years ago. One such story was from a reader who did not like riding in a covered sleigh, no matter how cold it was. We called these closed-in sleighs a caboose.
Dad had hired a carpenter in a neighbouring district to build him a new caboose. It had a small sliding window in the front and a wood stove was put in. There were two holes under the window where the reigns were passed through. Seats were along both sides. A door was in the right front side and the main door in the back.
I was the only one in the family who would not sit anywhere except right beside the back door. I had a fear of the caboose tipping over and sure enough, one time it did. It happened one Christmas Day while going to my Aunt Hilda and Uncle George Dunlop’s over 70 years ago.
We always looked forward to these Christmas get-togethers. It was a big change from our home. Dad was a hardworking man and a kind father, but he could not cook like Aunt Hilda. She was the very best cook and we were made to feel very welcome.
Route that day was treacherous
She worked hard to give us so much – from the farm-raised turkey to a glorious Christmas pudding. It was always a meal to remember. There was a gift for everyone as well. She knitted my very first pair of gloves and I was so proud of them.
To get to Aunt Hilda’s, we had to travel over some badly drifted in roads. As we went over one drift, over we went! My worst fear had come true. I was out the back door like a rabbit, with the others spilling out after me.
Dad and my older brother soon righted the caboose. The horses weren’t a problem because dad always kept good horses. There was another problem, however – dad’s pipe was nowhere to be seen. We all looked for it and it was found eventually behind the stove, caught by a sliver of wood in the wall. We had a good laugh then continued on to another great Christmas at Aunt Hilda’s.
