Memory Brings Tribute

To the Editor of The Home News

Dear Sir:

          An obituary notice in your columns recently set up in me a train of memories that demand expression. I refer to the death of Mrs. Elizabeth J. Wildgoose, 92, widow of Joseph Wildgoose Sr.

         Although it has been more than 40 years since I have seen this estimable lady, the recollection of her graciousness and motherlinless has been a factor in my own character.

         Away back in the late 80’s, the Wildgoose family lived on Redmond street, just a few doors from my own home.  There were numerous children,, all happy-hearted, all intensely loyal to each other.  The lad Charles was my particular chum, while Albert Wildgoose was the inseperable companion of my brother.

         The house and yard attracted many other children of the neighbourhood for there was always something interesting going on there, especially after school.   I am sure the Redmond street kids often tried the patience of Mrs. Wildgoose severely, yet I do not recall that she was ever out of patience with us.  From time to time she would smile in upon our games and, the urgent whispering of her little daughters, frequently provided the invaders with cookies or jam bread or both.   Her life was like many chapters out of the Alcott books.

         I recall the inventiveness of the Wildgoose girls in organizing games.   Ada kept us in order, while Eva, Lucy and May conducted us through the mysteries of singing and acting diversions brought from England by their mother.   Occasionally she would correct us in this or that and tell us how it was played in London.

         Let me see – can I bring back the names of some of those games?  Besides the old standby, “London Bridge is Falling Down”, always popular, we played:

          Old witch, honey pots, lion’s den, go in and out the window, tisket a tasket, roly poly, pease porridge, the king is in his castle, and many more.

         When we boys tired of games with the girls, we organized parades, circuses, shows of all kinds.   Mrs. Wildgoose showed us how to make wall paper pinheels, and we stuck them upon laths and went about the neighbourhood selling them at so many pins per.

         In short, the “Wildgoose House” as everybody called it, was a happy, wholesome place, almost tantamount to a neighbourhood social center.   At this late date I am paying tribute to the sweet-faced woman who reigned there as queen.

George Francis Staat

Pasadena, California

Elizabeth Jane Rendle

 born 1847 Camberwell, London