The patronage of the farmer and his brawny sons, who had visions of gang plows and waving wheat, was an important desideratum in that era. Party leaders were “some pumpkins” and they puffed and spat over many a fragrant cheroot while sipping their “ponies” and “bootlegs” in company of expectant agents.
Charlie McP—— tells a tale of an exodus of the boys over the trail of the lonesome pine to some silent place near Coboconk where the villagers were to meet them to consult. To introduce the serious talk of tickets, rates and routes, some foreign line spokesman suggested a mild libation all hands round. Agreed! Not to be outdone, his neighbor ordered again something out of the lamp for the lords and laity: partaken ad libitum, in extenso. Now me! It’s your turn, and so the hours wore on, your Uncle Dudley Hayrick taking on his grist at minimum cost, business postponed and county council adjourning to reconsider the tax rate.
Honorary Judges, Clinton Fat Stock Show, April, 1912
Two generations pictured beside the Rattenbury House.
R. G. McGraw, Soo Line; H. E. Watkins, G.N.R.; W. Hood, C.N.R.; F. A. Nancekivell, Soo Line; David Forrester, Gentleman-Farmer; G. Barnes, W.C.R.; A. J. Taylor, C.M. & St. P. R.; Host Joe, Rattenbury; J. J. Rose; Robert Reford Co., R. J. S. Weatherston, G.T.R.; F. H. Terry, G.N.R.; W. Jackson, C.P.R.; H. Macdougall, G.T.R.; R. Middleton, M.C.R.
CHARITY BEGINS AT HOME
As the train slowed down at a busy country station a man excitedly put his head through the open coach window. “A woman in here has fainted,” he cried, “has anyone got any whiskey? Quick!” A philanthropist reached within the recesses of his unmentionables and handed a bottle to the enquirer with an 18 karat thirst. The latter frantically uncorked the flask, put it to his lips and took a noble pull, “Ah”, he sighed, “that’s better, it always did upset me to see a woman faint.”
Presently the good blood of Ontario, and some bad stuff, was rolling westward at the rate of two and three regularly arranged for trains of nine to thirteen loaded cars each week. The personal effects and stock of the settler went along too, the owner ensconced occasionally in a tourist sleeper jolting along at the end of the string, and eager railway companies took turns in hauling the prize. Excitement ran high. The wires were kept hot about special or inadequate equipment, conflicting rates and alleged unconstitutional moves of opposing forces.
It was no uncommon occurrence to convene a meeting in hotel parlor or little red schoolhouse and there agents present would, in turn, give the agriculturist samples of terseness or spell-binding eloquence. Imagine the persuasiveness that was pitted against the farmer’s cautiousness or distrust. Recall, ye of good memory, if you can, the epigrams, arguments and bon mots which rolled off the ready tongues of a dozen or more jovial pilgrims from o’er the border; for instance, M. McNally, representing “St. P.M. & M.R.” a fowl fiend who could eat poultry five times a day, Charlie O’Connor with the “Northwestern,” Con. Sheehy, that urbane, silk tiled gentleman sent over by the “Wabash,” A. C. Stonegrave with eagle eye for “Central Vermont” end of it, rough and ready Harry Badgeley of “Great Western,” Bill Askin or handsome Billy McLean of the Beatty Line. They talked corn until their tones grew husky and they were as fine a coterie of unconventional free lances as ever probed the intricacies of a railroad timetable. To this day the boys tell of the adaptability of Harry Badgeley of the “C.G.W.R.,” how he studied pigology, hob-nobbing for three days with a colony of ruralists whom he landed high and dry by this artful manoeuvre in spite of keen competition. That was the halcyon era, the palmy days of Ed. Sullivan, Ed. Riley, Ed. Clancy and Ned Hanlan.
Frank E. Harrison, who is now agent of C.P.R., at Whitby, Ont., will remember all this as he was about this time Canadian Agent first for the C.B. & Q.R., and afterwards the C.St.P. & K.C.R.