Reminiscences: The Moss Peregrinations
Pa grew a variety of crops on that small farm. I remember the cotton field and how we all went out and picked the cotton. I remember the peanut crop and the exciting time when Rasmussen's big threshing machine came rumbling down the road to thresh our peanuts. I remember the watermelon patch and the big beautiful melons. As for livestock, there were cows, chickens, pigs, a pair of oxen and a couple of horses.
It was there on the farm that brother Don was born. When I think of that baby, I am reminded of an event in which I played a prominent part. We had just finished dinner. Baby Don was in his baby carriage not far from the table. Mom had partially removed the food from the table and was out in the kitchen. There was still a bowl of rice on the table. Suddenly it came to me that Mom was not giving the baby enough food so I quickly filled the large spoon with rice and stuffed it in the baby's mouth. There quickly ensued choking sounds. Mom rushed in and with quick fingers rescued little Don. Needless to say I was duly chastised.
Life on the farm must have been very hard for our parents and not the idyllic place it seemed to me. Keep in mind that there was no running water, no electricity, no telephone. Food was cooked and water heated on an old wood burning stove. Baths were taken in a big round galvanised tub placed on the kitchen floor on Saturday nights.
House No. 4
Pa sold the farm and off we went on the train to western Maryland. There is a narrow strip of western Maryland between Pennsylvania and West Virgina. It was there in Pigskin Ridge, part of Millstone, that House No. 4 was situated. It was a big, two-story log house located in hilly terrain. Pigskin Ridge was home to mountaineer people. I well remember women who would bring letters for Mom to read to them. Sometimes she would do some writing for them also. Pa's work was in a large peach orchard.
Lloyd and I went to a really primitive school. It was a one room affair with a wood burning stove in the middle of the room. In one corner of the room there was a shelf on which was a bucket of water with a dipper in it. We all used the same dipper. There was no blackboard. We each had a slate on which we wrote. The teacher was Mrs. McGusker, a very stern individual. Unruly students were whipped right there in front of the room. I remember Lloyd had done something which did not seem bad to me. He was called up front and duly switched. I put my head down on the desk and cried bitterly. It was there in Pigskin Ridge, that brother John was born. The story is that when brother Don first saw him, he remarked that he looked just like a pokeberry. For those of you no acquainted with pokeberries, they are quite red.