Ethel Fattig Memories - 2

Ethel Fattig Memories - 2

Location:
Cambridge, Nebraska
When:
Bef 1990

Description:

                              MEMORIES
     I learned to milk a cow when I was seven years old as Father
decided she was not of the milk strain and wanted to put her in the
feed yard that fall with the others to fatten.  Child-like, I thought
I could milk as good as my older sisters, he said I could milk that
one as it did not matter if I could not milk her dry, and later I was
to milk her once a day and soon she would not give any milk at all.
I was very eager then, but when I got older and had to help with the
milking I was not so eager to do that chore, though did until the
morning of my marriage.  That morning Father took the pail and milked
the cow as we were milking just one then.

     When the cattle were fat and ready for market, they were drove
or herded by men on saddle horses four and one half miles to the
Cambridge Stock Yards, watered and fed and later put into a car ready
for when the freight train came in.  They hooked on and were on their
way to market either to St. Joe or Kansas City, this was before
trucks were made.  The farm wagon would have to make so many, many
trips to haul them to Cambridge.  When there were a large bunch of
hogs ready for market they were drove or hearded on foot by the men
as they had to move slower as fat hogs can not stand much heat. 

     Another chore that I was eager to do was to ride and handle our
beloved Shetland Pony, Tommy, he stood 44 inches high, a faithful and
loved animal. All nine of us children had our turn of riding Tommy,
doing the errands and duties of the many farm chores.  I did get my
turn when I was nine years old, that summer I herded the cattle three
fourths of a mile west as there were no fences like today, the grass
was very good on that property so each day Tommy would carry me to
and fro driving the cattle to pasture and bringing them home.  Tommy
could be tricky as one time I was sent to a field some distance away
to get some wrenches as it had rained and the men wanted to do other
work at the barnyard.  I was lopping or galloping right along when
all of a sudden he planted those front hoofs into the ground and I
went right over his head, lit on my back knocking the wind out of me.
When I could get my breath and get upon my feet I tried to get hold
of the reins but he would let me get just so close and finally he
took off on a run for home.  I was not far from my brother and
sister-in-laws house so I went there and called home to tell them
Tommy was coming home.  If I remember right I did not get the
wrenches and I walked on home.

     I went with Mother one evening to milk the cows, she had milked
one pail full setting it down near her while she milked another cow,
I was also standing near Mother and the pail of milk when old Vinnie
walked up and butted me backward into that pail of milk, lucky for me
she did not have horns, was another milk cow.  I was three or four
years old and do not remember the incident but the family was always
telling that story about me.

     Father went to Colorado and bought a car load of wild horses had
them shipped back by train as horse power for farming was not very
plentiful in those days.  He bought the second car load later.  It
took time to gentle and break them for farm use.  After they were
tamed and well broke he sold many to other farmers besides having
more for his own farming.  There was one, a beautiful bay, we called
her Tangle Mane as she had such a long tangled mane, so wild, an
outlaw that would not let anyone get very close to her.  My oldest
brother said he would ride her, so she was lariated, saddled, and
taken snubbed tied to another tame horse or horses to a fresh plowed
field and Ollie, my bother, got into the saddle.  They let them free
from the other horses and such bucking and bucking with no let up and
Ollie could not free himself as he had planned, as his watch and
chain had come out of the bib pocket of his overalls and was wrapped
around the saddle horn snubbing him there.  He was so sore for
several days that none of us ever wanted to see such happen again.
Tangle Mane was turned to pasture and never again bothered to tame.

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Collection: Ethel Fattig's Collection - Narratives

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