My Memories of Shawville, from 1900 to 1910
by Robert Judd
Joe Turner made the harness,
George Wainman made the pails
If Wainman was too busy,
You could always go to Dale's
Tom Wilson made the boots and shoes
McGuire sold the boys the booze
And blacksmith Charlie Wainman
Nailed on the horses' shoes
Machinery, sold by Smith and Smart
Supposed to be the best
It was the Massey Harris then
Much better than the rest
There was Frost and Wood, Sylvester too,
And of Deering, quite a few
Scythes and cradles were on hand,
Used for all the rougher land
The reaper also was on hand,
Bundles they were tied by hand
The binder then came in,
It really made the farmers grin
A smile upon their faces, you would see
When it tied up the bundles, by gee
John Shaw had a hardware got,
The Royal Bank is on that spot
Dr. Lyons cured their ills,
And Dr. Klock, he sold the pills
And Donaldson, he had trick
Somehow, he made the watches tick
McRae, he made old frame sleighs
Which helped the farmer on his way
Wagons, buggies, cutters, too
Of these he made quite a few
McCredie planed the boards for floors
Also made window frames and doors
He dressed the lumber for the walls
And also trim for stairs and halls
Chris Caldwell owned the Pontiac
And as for rules, there was no lack
No brawls were e're allowed in there
For them, you had to go elsewhere
Edward Hodgins ran a general store
For food to eat and clothes to wear
He started in the business then
Now operated by his own grandsons
He then a lot of credit give,
In order for poor folks to live
Some bills were large, some bills were small
I wonder if he got it all
James Hodgins' store was farther west
He claimed his goods were far the best
The son then took it over, and ran it for some time
He then became a member,
And the store, it did decline
It has changed hands several times
Since Hodgins first began
A part was sold to Coties
Where they ran a Five-and-Ten
Now, a part is run by Steadman's,
And part by L. and M.
George Caters drew the water,
With his one-horse dray
He was always busy,
Especially on wash day
I still can see his old gray horse
Going down the hill
He would drive right into the creek,
His barrels for to fill
I think he charged ten cents a barrel
Which wasn't very much
He would go unload his water,
Then go in and have a touch
It was mostly whiskey blanc
He drank, which wasn't very dear
It only cost five cents a glass
And would really make you cheer
The Findlay Brothers worked on stone
Foundations for to lay
And many a home in Shawville
Sits there until this day
John Cowan had the Equity,
It was published once a week
And for the latest births and deaths,
His paper we would seek
The minutes of the Council
Were published there also,
Everything was itemized,
So the ratepayer would know
Exactly where the money went,
Not as it is today
All published in one large sum
Where it goes, we do not know
As for the secretary,
I don't blame he or she
It is the rules the Council makes,
So the ratepayers they can't see
There was dummy Rooney
Who always was about
Whenever he would meet you,
His slate he would get out
He was a perfect writer
And questions he would ask
And you wrote down the answer
Which wasn't of first class
He did a lot of sewiing,
As tailoring was his trade
And as he traveled 'round about
And many a suit he made
He would come into the bar
When a bunch of us were in
Although he was a dummy,
He could say one word, "Gin!"
Bill Elliott was the bailiff then,
A kindly man was he
When sent to seize on cattle,
There was a lot he didn't see
W.W. Ireland made the wills
He also made them pay the bills
In Shawville then, no banks were seen
They kept the money in their jeans
Some kept it in a safety box.
Some kept it in an old gray sock
The Merchant's Bank set up in town
Where you could salt our money down
They cashed the cheques, made the odd loan,
If you had money of your own
But now, alas, alack
I think they are a little slack
They hand the money out, by gee,
A lot of which they'll never see
If you want money, south to fly,
You pay it back before you die.
O.D. Sullivan to Shawville came,
He got into the livestock game
He bought the lambs, he bought the cows
He even bought the old brood sows
Stockyards, they had none as then,
They only had a holding pen
They built the pens, they put in scales,
Where you could weigh them, heads and tails
Cars and cars of livestock
Were shipped out from that spot
But later on, the trucks came in,
And then the railroad was forgot
About that time, John Rennick came
And got into the blacksmith game
He would shoe the horses, make the yokes
Set the tires, put in spokes
He also did castrate the colts
Bulls and pigs and dogs, a few
He also did some tomcats, too
He also was quite a vet,
Sick horses, cows on Jack would call
No doubt he could not save them all
Three thousand colts he claimed he'd done,
They all survived, excepting one
He kept good horses, fed them well
And they could always go like hell
A Hodgins owned the carding mill
It was on the creek, over the hill
George Hines the undertaker
He laid the dead to rest
Bob Black the carriage maker
His shop was farther west
And as for sleighs and buggies,
They said his were the best
Sam Armstrong had a brickyard then
A lot of brick was made
For seven days and seven nights,
The fire it did burn
How many brick were in a kiln,
That I did not learn
The Rev. Naylor was here then,
A noble man was he
As he traveled around the parish,
The people for to see
It was in the horse and buggy days
Not as easy as today
You can step into your car,
And soon be on your way
He buried the dead, baptized the babies,
Also married the fair young ladies
He was in Shawville quite a spell
Had it not been for the work he did,
Many more would have gone to hell!
He supervised the building
Of the church we have today
And many a good Anglican
Has gone in there to pray
James Eades he built a grist mill
Flour for to make
As mostly all the women then
Their own bread, they did bake
He also ground the mash for cows
A finer grade for hogs and sows
John Smith, he was the barber then
He'd cut your hair for five and ten
If you felt the need to have a shave,
You him another ten cents gave
Jack McGuire was the butcher,
The animals he could kill
The slaughter house was by the creek,
Down below the hill
He had a room back of the shop,
Where the meat he did keep cool
He had a great big chopping block
Where he cut up the meat
Roasts and steaks, and also stew,
You could have whate'er you'd choose
Beef and veal and pork a lot
It was all cut up to fit the pot
There were many more I could recall
Too bad I can't mention them all
I feel this is enough for now,
So to my friends, I make a bow.
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