All those horses...
by Bonnie (Hazen) Nelson
reprinted from Issue #15,
Anyone remember the Sheeny Man?
a rather portly gentleman, but a vital part of Olde Walkervilles
past. For extra money, the neighbourhood kids would collect newspapers
and bottles, bundle the stuff up, and then on Saturday morning we
would await the Sheeny Man.
His whistle was our signal to
be in the alley ready with our collection, in the hopes that he
would buy from us. Sure enough, he was usually more that happy to
pay us nickels and dimes for everything.
He was quite the character,
with his huge old wooden wagon filled to the brim with all the back-alley
cast-offs. His big old plodding horse would look for a cut-up apple
when he saw us. I think I was there more for him than the money.
horse-drawn wonder was the milk wagon. I can still hear the glass
milk bottles in that wire basket making a racket every other morning,
and my jumping out of bed because that was my alarm clock to get
ready for school. And I remember the aluminum tumblers of cottage
cheese and once in a while chocolate milk for a treat, plus the
unspeakable butter milk, which to this day I cannot stomach.
And then there was the ice wagon.
On those hot Walkerville summer days, it was the gathering place
for all the neighbourhood kids.
We watched while the ice man
grabbed a big block of ice, slung it over his shoulder and headed
towards our house he would be in and out of our kitchen in
a flash. Then all the kids would clamour for a hand full of ice
I remember the day our old ice
box left and the big white fridge arrived and the wonder of the
ice cube trays entered our life. We were, however, sad to see the
end of the ice man.
I have a collecters plate
here at my B&B, (see inset), depicting an old horse-drawn ice
wagon with children gathered round. When I look at it, I always
smile and think back to the good old days, and remember when.
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