DIY History | Transcribe | Campus Culture | Adelia M. Hoyt memoir and photographs

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Page 12

12 UNFOLDING YEARS
home again! -- The cheerful light of the kerosene lamp, the teakettle singing on the stove, the table set with plenty of good bread and butter, fresh radishes and little onions from the garden. Father had kept house alone while we were gone as Emma was away teaching. He was so glad to have us back and to hear all about the folks in Janesville, and the wonderful doctor. But mother hustled me off to bed and I recall a delightful feeling of sinking down as the flowers in the wallpaper seemed to swim round and round before I closed my eyes in sleep. 
As to the help I received from those glasses, although they magnified slightly, they drew on my eyes and were so uncomfortable that no amount of coaxing or bribing prevailed, and it was not long before they were abandoned altogether. In another way our trip was worth while. That doctor told my mother that she must build up my physical condition by keeping me out-of-doors as much as possible. From then on many plans we devised to keep me in the other. I was encouraged to help with the chickens, gather the eggs, help my father feed the pigs and other stock. I used to follow my father about repeating to him the stories that were read to me. I had little fear of anything on the farm except one cow, Daisy, who had a decided antipathy for me. If I approached the fence and she caught sight of me she would come rushing with lowered head and shaking horns. As she had the ability of opening any gate you can imagine that I was in a constant state of alarm in my dreams Daisy often pursued me. 
In the winters, instead of being curled up behind the stove making up stories, I was dressed warmly and sent out to slide down hill on my sled. I was still shy of children and there were really few of my age within reach. Whenever my sister Emma could she shared these winter sports with me. In those days the snow often piled in huge drifts, eight and ten feet high, with a hard crust on top. We would climb to the top and slide down. I can remember one winter when the men dug tunnels in these drifts through which we drove to town.

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12 UNFOLDING YEARS home again! -- The cheerful light of the kerosene lamp, the teakettle singing on the stove, the table set with plenty of good bread and butter, fresh radishes and little onions from the garden. Father had kept house alone while we were gone as Emma was away teaching. He was so glad to have us back and to hear all about the folks in Janesville, and the wonderful doctor. But mother hustled me off to bed and I recall a delightful feeling of sinking down as the flowers in the wallpaper seemed to swim round and round before I closed my eyes in sleep. As to the help I received from those glasses, although they magnified slightly, they drew on my eyes and were so uncomfortable that no amount of coaxing or bribing prevailed, and it was not long before they were abandoned altogether. In another way our trip was worth while. That doctor told my mother that she must build up my physical condition by keeping me out-of-doors as much as possible. From then on many plans we devised to keep me in the other. I was encouraged to help with the chickens, gather the eggs, help my father feed the pigs and other stock. I used to follow my father about repeating to him the stories that were read to me. I had little fear of anything on the farm except one cow, Daisy, who had a decided antipathy for me. If I approached the fence and she caught sight of me she would come rushing with lowered head and shaking horns. As she had the ability of opening any gate you can imagine that I was in a constant state of alarm in my dreams Daisy often pursued me. In the winters, instead of being curled up behind the stove making up stories, I was dressed warmly and sent out to slide down hill on my sled. I was still shy of children and there were really few of my age within reach. Whenever my sister Emma could she shared these winter sports with me. In those days the snow often piled in huge drifts, eight and ten feet high, with a hard crust on top. We would climb to the top and slide down. I can remember one winter when the men dug tunnels in these drifts through which we drove to town.