Oh how well I remember that shack
Stood between the house and the barn out back.
Was a good place to hide when time to do dishes
With Wards and Sears catalogues we look through and made wishes.
All summer until late in the fall
We watched for snakes, some years never saw any at all. Papa had it bolted to posts,
He knew what happened on Halloween with all those ghosts.
Some were three holers and some had more
Once we had one was so big it had four.
Grandpa had padded one with fur, "Just for Grandma," he said, We kids liked that one the best, we'd wait our turn, faces red.
A hook made of wire on the inside of the door
And of course it had a wooden floor.
On wash day it was scrubbed with hot wash water using a broom We kids took turns doing this chore, and how we did fume.
Ladies that were really high toned would say,
"I'm going to Mrs. Jones," others called it the old Privy. (Webster's says it means Private)
Now people take pictures of paint the few there are left
Some make them of cloth to hold toilet paper for a craft.
People talk of the GOOD OLD DAYS, how soon they forget
Yet I remember when the cat jumped from the rafters to the floor, I was so scared that I went right through the door.
Papa had to put on hew hinges and a wire to hold it shut.
Mrs. George Wyant
Back in 1955 a call went out from the editors of the then Capper’s Weekly asking for readers to send in articles on true pioneers. Hundreds of letters came pouring in from early settlers and their children, many now in their 80s and 90s, and from grandchildren of settlers, all with tales to tell. So many articles were received that a decision was made to create a book, and in 1956, the first My Folks title – My Folks Came in a Covered Wagon – hit the shelves. Nine other books have since been published in the My Folks series, all filled to the brim with true tales from Capper’s readers, and we are proud to make those stories available to our growing online community.