The Christmas of 1914 was our last ties with Santa Claus. He left sis and I a decent supply of toys. But what puzzled us kids—why at Rocklyn—Santa left a spoiled brat loads of toys. Then when he got out to the Lake Creek Country, where two little sisters lived-who’s parents were very poor—Santa left them only a couple of rag dolls that Mrs. Claus must have made out of an old apron.
On those snow laden, cold, clear winter nights of long ago, when everyone was burning wood or coal—the heat from the chimney would turn white, and drift upward along the star studded sky—you knew then it was well below zero. Jack rabbits would then come hopping over the snow to the straw stack. Dad would aim his shotgun at one of them. If enough buck shots entered the rabbits hide, we had jack rabbit stew for dinner.
Hardly anyone would want to go back to living in those by-gone days. We like to live in these advanced times where more knowledge and better living conditions are bestowed upon us. I just took time out to sort through some old stuff and found some scattered pictures that needed pasting in for the last couple of years. In the process I ran across a old post card that goes back to the days when Rocklyn had personalized cards that were made to sell at the store. “Having fun on Rocklyn farm,’’ was the title under a picture that showed a young lady adjusting her leg garter, while a Rocklyn farmer was enjoying the exposed view.