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her about the proposed paper chase and
asked if he might cut a trail across her land. She was a little hesitant
at first, but when he said, "Oh, it
will just be the Dickson children and a few of
their close friends," she consented.
On the day of the paper chase she had her chauffeur park her
automobile where the new trail met the road, and she waited
there to see the Dickson children and a few of their close friends
— about sixty in all — galloping by !
Proceeding westward from Lamson's we soon came to
Coburn's Block on the left, looking very much as it does today. Here
there were a soda fountain, Burrages's dry goods store run by Mr.
Burrage, a very proper man with a beard and a celluloid collar, and
finally B. R. Parker's hardware store.
Mr. Parker had a row of drums in his basement containing
turpentine, linseed oil, etc., from which he drew off small lots
into bottles for his customers. He always appreciated any empty
containers you might bring him. Once when our cellar was being cleaned,
several boxes of empty whiskey and gin bottles were earmarked to go down
to Parker's. Cousin Francis Bennett hap-pened to be visiting us at the
time. He was amazed at the great numbers being loaded into the
automobile and asked my mother where they were going.
"Mr. Parker wants them for turpentine," she told him.
"But what will Mr. Parker think when he sees all those liquor
bottles?"
"Nothing," returned my mother, innocently. "They're all
empty."
In a building behind the store, Mr. Parker's brother Horace
ran a shop where he repaired bicycles, lawnmowers, and auto- |
