(cont.)

“Father always kept his shotgun hanging behind the kitchen door.  On Hallowe’en the young fellows of the village went the rounds, trying to do as much damage as possible.  Father liked to put hard peas in his gun and “shoot” the boys as they arrived in our yard.  They would run away crying: “I’ve been shot in the leg”, and father got a big laugh out of that.  While hunting one day, father shot a fox, laming it, and he brought it home and tied it near the woodshed, cautioning us not to go near it.  The foxy fox chewed the rope and was gone the next morning.

“At night, neighbours would sometimes call for a visit, and they would play checkers or dominos as father would not have a deck of cards in the house.  One of our neighbours, Alec Kennedy, played the fiddle, and he would entertain while we sang.

“I remember father sitting in the doorway of the kitchen watching the thunder and lightning storms.

“Traditionally Scotch, father sometimes liked a wee nip out of the bottle and occasionally over-imbibed.

“Mother was medium height, with blue eyes and brown hair and medium complexion. Father was very short, less than five feet in height, and had brown hair and brown eyes with very fair complexion, and liked to boast that he never had a skin blemish in his life.

“While father was living with my sister Mary at Newport, R.I. years later, he often walked to the beach, and one day he climbed half way down a ledge near the water, called Purgatory, and couldn’t get back.  He called for help and a man passing by in a car heard him and threw him a rope and helped him back to safety.  He was quite wet from the spray, but he hurried home and Mary got the story when she saw his wet clothes.

“Father didn’t believe in handing out his money recklessly, and so he filled his own teeth with gutta-percha and never went to a dentist in his life.  Needless to say he died toothless at the age of 86.  He enjoyed good health all through his life, and claimed never to have had a headache.  His longevity and good health were probably due to his being a nature lover and spending many hours outdoors, hunting and fishing, or just hiking in the woods.

“When Jim and I were deeping [sic.] compa ny a man stopped Jim on the street one day and said to him: “Jim, look at that little man over there.  He is the shortest man I have ever seen outside the circus”.  Jim turned to look at the man, and low and behold there stood his future father-in-law.  Being very tactful, Jim just smiled and didn’t tell his friend that the “little man” was my father.  People are as big as they feel, and father never felt small.  In fact when he had imbibed too freely he felt tall, and quite often when “in his cups” he would tell a story about growing to a tremendous height in his youth.

“My mother, Isabella Wellwood Dougan, had two sisters, Betsy and Fannie, and four brothers, John, Moses, Samuel, and Thomas.  Moses became a missionary and went to Africa.  He had studied botany, and used herbs in different ways to prepare medicine.  The natives worshipped him, as he cured their ills, and they watched him day and night so he would not lea ve them.  He was in Africa five years before he finally stole away in the night and made his way back to the coast and finally to Scotland, where he married a girl he had known before he went to Africa.

“Mother’s brother John took his son, age six, to church one Sunday and the sermon was about Moses in the bullrushes.  Upon arriving home, his mother asked him what he had learned in church and he said: “The minister was spaking aboot my Uncle Moses all the tame.”

“Mother’s sister Fanny Wellwood Rowley (Sam Rowley’s mother) came to America after her husband died.  She married again after being in America for five years; a man named Goddard, who died four years later.  (Fannie seemed to have bad luck with husbands.)

“Mother’s sister Betsy married a man named Thompson, and one of their sons came to America, but he never contacted the Dougans.

“Mother was an industrious woman, doing all her housework, sewing, cooking, and baking; also weaving.  She was very even-tempered, calm at all times and very patient.  She faced life realistically and took what it had to offer and was thankful.

“Mother died at the age of 64, from pneumonia, while living with my sister Margaret on Washington Street in Fall River, Mass.

“Father died 22 years later at the age of 86 while living with my sister Mary at Newport, R. I.”

“Signed: Annie Dougan Brady”

© Deborah Ray and archivecookie.com, 2010.