The other outhouse that I remember
fondly, is the one on a small farm where we lived for a short time. We had two
mother cats with assorted kittens, and they always would follow anyone whenever
we walked out to the outhouse, walking in a row behind us like a parade. If we
stayed in it too long, the kittens would poke their little furry paws under the
door, to remind us that they were waiting for us. We were used to this
performance, but it startled some of our visitors when those little paws came reaching
under the door while they were inside. It was a good way to know whether or not
the “little house” was occupied, as we had only to look for the row
of cats and kittens waiting outside its door to know that someone was using it.
U.R. LeRoy
Corunna, Michigan
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.
