Mrs. George
Sanderson and Mrs. John Millar came to join their husbands, who were
the prominent men in business. Father had secured a lot and our home
was being built, at which we rejoiced greatly, for it was difficult to
work for so many people, and the lack of necessary household
conveniences and of proper kitchen utensils were a great detriment.
Nothing especially transpired during these months. We kept busily at
our work until the season for rain was approaching. Several rough
houses were built opposite, on the corner a saloon, which was an
eyesore to us for it was a busy place where men drank and sometimes
fought with knives. Next to our house was a one-story cottage where
the family of Louis Millar lived, and a fandango house next door where
they danced and played their guitars. We lived on the corner and
fortunately had a sidewalk on two sides of the house, but the streets
were not made and the mud and slush was dreadful. Men crossed the
streets in high rubber leggings. We never pretended to go in the
street at this time, everything being brought to us. We were almost as
closely confined as prisoners. There was no drainage, consequently the
mud remained in the streets for weeks while the rains lasted.
December was approaching and of course our thoughts turned towards
Christmas and preparations for its festivities. Everybody was busy. We
had much to do, for all these men were still with us. There was mince
meat to make, raisins to seed, cakes and pies to bake.
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