Early Chores, Birth of Winnogene, Close Call

When I became old enough to churn the butter in a barrel-type churn, I did that for my mother in the cellar.  That was also where we turned the ice cream freezer.  Once in a while during the hot summer months, there would be an alert by telephone from one neighbor to another that there was danger of a tornado.  On those occasions we would go down into the cellar until the winds died down.  The cellar had a four-inch tile vent that enabled us to get sufficient air to keep us comfortable while in the cellar.

Kenneth Leroy Scott, circa 1906

When I was old enough to care for them, my father got a pair of rabbits for me and presently I had quite a number of rabbits--until a neighbor's dog got to them.

It was when we lived in this house that my sister Winnogene was born on March 25, 1905.

Kenneth and Winnogene with their parents, Elzumer and Carrie Mae Scott, in 1908

Kenneth and Winnogene

Winnogene Leta Scott, 1905-1918

My bed in those days was a folding bed that could be raised from the front and extend vertical during the daytime to provide more space in our parlor.  The bed had a large mirror in the front when raised and was then a rather attractive piece of furniture.

Winnogene and Kenneth

When we were to go out to my Grandfather Scott's farm--about five miles away--my father would hitch our driving horse to a single-seated buggy with a top and we would all climb in, Winnogene on Mother's lap and I between my parents.  When we made that trip in the winter, we had heavy lap robes and some hot bricks to keep our feet warm.

One day, when we were going out to the farm in the buggy, my father saw a steam threshing machine coming down the road toward us with the smoke and steam puffing out.  We were rather sure that Prince, our horse, would be frightened as most horses were of a threshing machine.  That day we were following rather close behind a wagon load of hay; Father said maybe we could get by the threshing machine that way.  When Prince came abreast of the machine, he reared straight up.  Had it not been for Father's experience in handling horses, we might well have had a bad "runaway" with the buggy being turned over and some or all of us badly hurt--or worse.

Steam-driven threshing machine, Minnesota, 1882 (http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia)