HomeMy WebLinkAboutThe Brussels Post, 1981-08-12, Page 2ES*1 ..
1872
4Brussels Post BRUSSELS.
ONT.
Established 1872
Serving Brussels and the surrounding community
Published at BRUSSELS, ONTARIO
every Wednesday morning
by McLean Bros. Publishers Limited 0,. Andrew Y. McLean, Publisher
Evelyn Kennedy, Editor
Member Canadian Community Newspaper Association, Ontario
Weekly Newspaper Association and The Audit Bureau of
Circulation.
WEDNESDAY, JULY 12, 1981
Authorized as second class mail by Canada
Post Office. Registration Number 0562.
Box 50,
Brussels, Ontario
NOG 1H0
The work bees
Morris - history recalls them
Behind the scenes
by Keith Roulston
Oh to be 10 again
Oh to be 10 years old again now that
summer holidays are here.
Seems to me we are never so free in our
lives in the true north strong and free as we
are when we're youngsters on summer
holidays. I'm not one who would live my life
over again but from the time the new-mown
hay scents the air in June to the time the
cicadas crack the heavy air of August with
their high-pitched whine I wouldn't mind
being 10 again.
Ten, I think was the perfect age: old
enough for parents to let you off the apron
strings, young enough not to have the
responsibility of carrying out an adult
workload. It left long, warm days of exploring
field and wood, imagining following the
footsteps of Champlain or finding secret
Indian burial mounds, building secret hide- ,
outs where adults were foreign, generally
escaping from the rest of the world outside
our imagination. Childhood is not a carefree
time. Children at school not only hayed the
feeling of captivity because they must learn to
keep regular schedules, schedules drawn up
by others, but they have the fear of failure
and the incredible pressure of their peers.
They learn the habits of their later adult life:
worrying that they fit in, that they dress as
well, that they have the right haircut or that
their teeth don't stick out. Life in school is far
from free.
But for two months during the summer
freedom comes. Schedules, of course become
either non-existent or at least looser. Dress
doesn't matter. Group sizes break down to
small units, sometimes just two boys or girls,
adult supervision becomes minimized and
the kids have a chance to be themselves.
Oh adults often still try to regulate the kids.
There is this activity and that and it
sometimes seems the adult are afraid to let
the kids think for themselves for a while in
case they plan a revolution. I guess for urban
kids there is some need of this because left on
their own with nothing to do they will invent
trouble. But rural and small town kids have
the world's biggest playpen at their back-
door. There are trees to climb, rivers to fish
and swim in and build rafts on and* camp
beside, endless fields to wander collecting
endless varieties of insect to go home and
unleash on screaming mothers.
And while educational technicians in their
fancy offices in Clinton or Toronto may not
like it, a lot of the most important education a
child receives goes on out there in the
freedom of field and bush. Our man-made
education system, for instance, has been so
busy convincing mankind of his own
supreme importance in the scheme of
things that he thinks the whole world can be
reshaped to whatever rules he wants. So
today we have a world being poi ,soned by
acid rain, paved over by concrete, in danger
of ending in a cloud of nuclear fall-out if
someone put his finger on the wrong button.
Out there in the fields kids learn that they are
not superior to nature but are part of it, part of
an intricate system of balances that out of
whack can bring the whole system to a stop.
They learn too that what others say about
you, whether your shoes are the right kind or
yout hair is in place, whether you get good
marks or can play the piano or run the 50-yard
dash faster than anyone else your age, that
none of these other things really matter. They
get a chance to develop as an individual, not
as a pre-packaged, colour-coded product of
an educational machine. (whether that
machine be a school, a television set ready to
turn all children into clones of some ideal
child, or parents who have some perfect
offspring in mind that they want to model
their child after).
I suppose I'm talking about a childhood
some people never experienced and if so I am
sorry for them. Some, I suppose never had a
chance. Many more just didn't take a chance.
Despite the fact we have millions of acres of
field and stream and bush few people, even
children in our smaller towns and villages,
get out and enjoy it. It is as if there was a
barbed wired fence 12 feet high around the
urban boundaries cutting one off from the
other.
It's that way for adults too, I think. Even
people lucky enough to have a second home in
the country or at a lake quickly turn it into a
second-hand version of the urban home they
left behind. They don't leave the worries of
their urban adult life behind at all but bring
the mortgage payments and the electrical
breakdowns and the worries about how their
place compares with the one owned by the
chartered accountant next door just like they
bring their extra bedding.
Would that we all could be 10 years old
again for a few weeks every year, free of adult
worries about keeping up with the Jones,
about office politics, about troubles in Poland
and chaos in Ottawa, about crab grass in our
manicured lawns. Perhaps it would give us
the perspective we need when we go back to
our cluttered, complicated adult lives.
For many months, Jeanne
Kirkby of Walton has been
working on a book as part of
the Morris Township's cele-
bration of its 125th birthday.
A section from that book is
'reprinted here.
Morris Township, Past to
Present by Jeanne Kirkby.
Publishers-Morris Township
Council. Copyright 1981.
WORKING TOGETHER
One of the outstanding
characteristics of Morris
Township people was their
tendency to make many tasks
lighter by sharing the work in
a neighbourhood "bee".
Held for many purposes,
these bees featured an amaz-
ing amount of work accomp-
lished, a spirit of competition
between teams with the task
divided into sections, plenty
of good food available for the
workers and a lively party or
"jig" at the end of the
evening to finish things up.
Pranks and jokes were not
uncommon on such occasions
and served to liven up the
situation even more.
WOOD BEES
Planning a logging bee
was no small affair. Prepar-
ation had to be started
systematically, far ahead of
the time that the gang of
workers was due to arrive.
The farmer would choose an
area of timber - about 10
acres - and have the timber -
timber that was valuable cut
and sent to the mill. The rest
of the timber would be cut
and lie fallow on the ground,
several years if necessary,
until the bee was held.
On the day of the bee, 20
or 30 hand spikes would be
cut, trimmed and peeled,
then put aside to stake out
the fallow when the crew
arrived. Usually a logging
crew consisted of about 5 or 6
teams of oxen and horses
with chains and strong har-
ness, each team accompan-
ied by about 5 men. When all
was assembled and marked
off, the teams would be in
position to hear the signal
that would start them into
their strip.
Everything had to be taken
out of the area and piled up.
Stumps, logs, small poplars
and willows all were removed
as the small boys scampered
here and there supplying
drinking water. Their older
sisters were busy in the
house, where the woman
worked to prepare large
meals.
In the sounds of conipetit-
ion between the teams, the
clanking chains, the creaking
timbers, he snapping whips
and the ihouting men, the
day moved at a hectic pace to
see who could be in first for
supper.
SPOOF - WOOD BEE AT
ROBERT LAIDLAW'S:
HURON EXPOSITOR, 1889
"At 8 o'clock in the morn-
ing, men armed with saws
andiaxes were heading out.
At 9, they are into it. At II
o'clock, 29 saws are going at
lightning speed. At 12
o'clock, they are summoned'
to dinner served in a rude
camp. At 12:35, the saws are
filed, and back to work. At
2:40 the competition is keen,
trees falling in all directions
to the mingled sounds of 36
saws, 11 axes, and 6 pilers.
Peter McFarlane who was
stupefied by a falling limb,
remains insensible at this
point: the pilers declare not '
less than 130 cord. At 4:11,
143 cords are scored. McFar-
lane shows signs of life. At 5
o'clock 1971/2 cords are piled
up, the sick man is able to
walk home, and the rest are
ready for the dance. There
will be muxic by a string
band but it will be over at a
respectable hour."
The early Morrisites en-
joyed a bit of fun and were
ready to get involved in every
situation, right to the fullest.
This is a story told by
Howard Wilkinson in conver-
sation with Ross Procter in
1979....
"In those days, the young
people had to make their own
pleasure in the neighbour-
hood.... My uncle wanted to
get a joke on some of the '
others, so he thought this
plan out to' cause excitement,
When they butchered pigs
in the fall, when it got cold
weather, they had this meat
put away. My uncle gathered
up the blood and he put in a
quart sealer...
When they got a nice
snowfall and the river was
frozen over; there had been a
wood bee at McMurray's
farm. He carried this pig's
blood; he went down the road
and walked in across the
front field for a piece and
the he sprinkled a little
blood around on the snow,
and a long tra, .ck until he got
to a place in the river. He
chopped a hole in the ice,
and then from there he
walked along to the centre
abutment of the bridge and
climbed out. Then he Came
back up to the road and
walked in beside the other
track and he toed in a little
more, in order to make it look
like two people and where
he'd sprinkled the blood in
the field, he dragged himself
from there to this hole in the
ice. He walked out his tracks
about the centre abutment
andwhen this here wood bee
was held, with a dance after
or some sort of enterain-
ment, that was the topic
there.
'Who had been murdered?
It must be somebody.' So the
next day, Bob Armstrong, he
was our police magistrate -
lived up on the 6th line - he
was wondering what he
should do and he was going
to hitch up and go to Clinton
and find out from a higher
authority what he should do
about it. There was 'nobody
missing in the community
that they knew of.
But then, my uncle
thought this had gone far
enough, so when he told him,
he said, "Don't you go to
Clinton."
"Well," Mr. Armstrong
says, "Why didn't you tell
me sooner.."
There were a couple of
fellows in the communilty
that didn't get along well,
and they thought that they
had gotten into a fight.
Garner Nicholson, who wore
a beard, was remembered
down on his knees looking in
the hole on the ice, and his
beard was hanging in big
icicles from being in the
water when he'd been look-
ing to see if he could see the
body. Howard Wilkinson's
uncle, who was the originator
of this prank was George
Washington Wilkinson, com-
monlyknow to his friends as
"Wash" Wilkinson.
BARN RAISING
Early barns were usually
built with a barn raising bee.
Again they had to be care-
fully prepared far ahead of
time. The farmer would draw
loads of stone, pile up a huge
amount of sand and bring
wagon loads of lime. There
was no cement then, and so
the mortar had to be mixed
on the job. The timber for the
building would have already
been collected as part of the
winter's logging. With ade-
quate provisions laid by to
feed the workers, the farmer
was ready for the framer to
arrive.
First, the fanner Would lay
Out the timbers and raise the
frame. Scittie farme'r's that
built many of the barns in
Morris Township would in-
clude R. Armstrong, "Big
George" Procter and "Little
George" Procter. Little
George was an average-sized
man with a beard, but by
comparison, Big George was
very big.
On raising day, the people
were invited. First the men
would "raise all the bents',
and then it was every men
down from the frame Two
captains were chosen to call
sides for the race to put on
the main plates, the high
plates, the purloin posts and
the rafters. The head framer
would give the word and the
race was on.
Besides wood bees and
barn raisings, the most popu-
lar types of bees in early
Morris. Township were the
Manure Bees. In 1901, Rob-
ert Young of the 6th Line
held his regular one and 125
loads were hauled and
spread on the fields.
In the late 1800's paring
bees became popular as the
bags of apples from the
prolific orachards of the
township were dried for the
winter. In 1884, at Mr.
Mellon's paring bee,8 bags of
apples were pared, cored and
strung to dry in one hour.
Again the evening was
wound up with a big meal
and some entertainment.
When the threshing naacla.
Ines started to be used
extensively to harvest the
crops, the neighbourhood
bees were an essential part
of the operation. A large
crew of harvesters was need-
ed to feed the machine and
every farmer that took part
knew that his neighbour
would be at his place when
the machine moved into his
barn. In the same manner,
the women banded together
in the kitchens, working co-
operatively to prepare the
mountains of food that would
be consumed by the hungry
workers.
It really wasn't a bad way
to get the work done. People
worked together and had
some fun while doing so.
Neighbours were close then
and depended on each other
to supply, in manpower,
what today we try to do with '
machinery.
THE DAILY ROUTINE
John Barnhill, S1/2 Lot 21,
Concession 9, Morris lived
with his wife Rachel, his
children Charles and Meg-
gie, and brother James on
his homestead in 1874. From
his dila:y this is a look at the
lifestyle of the time:
- Teamed spring wheat to
Seaforth on the gravel road.
The trip took from 7;00 a.m.
to 8:00 p.m, Met many teams
with cordwood on the way.
- For tea we had fresh meat,
stewed; syrup andsteamed
apples.
Conimimion Sabbath,
Heard Mr. Mann of Eph. 5,
"Walk in Love." Mr. Ren-
nell preached 'a striking ser-
mon from "We are the
Circumcision." Were out
about 3. Deep snow.. many
sleighs at Walton. Interest-
ing communion service. Just
one table in area, only 2
elders required. Mothers
with infants came and sat all
the while.
- James made a rake and
teeth from a stick of new
firewood from McArthur's.
- Took woollen and cotton
yarns to Stewart's to weave.
- Johnny Man came about
the proposed bee tomorrow.
Brought 3 Weekly Mails.
Ordered a Farmer's paper
for six months. Paid 1/2
dollar.
- Mr. Stewart came in the
evening with 1 web, 151/2
yards cotton and wool for
man's shirts.
At night, Mrs. John Doug-
las and her infant daughter
came to stay a night. Heard 4
of Mr. McFie's have died of
diptheria. Much sympathy
felt for them.
- A busy day. Sheep put in
and clipped 20 fleeces. Mark-
ing with black paint. I clip-
ped 7 and James 13. Many a
struggle before all is done.
4 pigs going on the road and
thriving, getting no feed at
all.
Marriage train passed in
Walton, horses with flags
and ribbons and racing at full
speed.