TOWN OF NIAGARA UNUSUAL THINGS
Articles collected between August 2nd, 1951 - December 13, 1951

SIMCOE PARK
I was talking with some friends a few days ago in the Park and we were recalling some things about it in the days of old. We remembered when it was surrounded by a wire fence, inside of which was a tall hedge. I remember seeing in one of the old minute books, an entry of a contract being given to a Youngstown man to plant the same hedge. I suppose the wire fence was there to protect the hedge from the cattle that roamed the streets. I don't remember just when the fence and hedge were removed; I think it must have been in the early 1890's. I remember St. Vincent Church having a Garden Party in there while it was still enclosed. I do remember the granting of the lease to the late Dick Taylor and what a kick up there was about it. Randall was Mayor and it was my first year in Council. He and the Park's Committee put it through without the rest of the Council having much to say about it. The matter had been brought up and the businessmen were very much opposed to leasing the Park as a business proposition. I was spoken to by one of the prominent men of the day and he told me they were getting up a petition against the project. They appeared before Council and received small comfort, being curtly informed by the Mayor as he flung the signed lease on the table, "There she is, signed and sealed." This aroused considerable resentment, which had a good deal to do with Randall's defeat at the following election. Randall was a good Mayor, but that one time he got off on the wrong foot. However, the opposition to the Park being used for business purposes died out and Dick Taylor ran it for a long time. One thing he did however, that some people did not like was to install a merry-go-round. Edmund Shepherd then lived across from the Park and he kicked up a row, going to the Dominion Government about it, when he found out that the Town did not own the Park, but only had a license of occupation. However, steps were taken and the Town obtained a proper deed. Since Dick Taylor's time, other Town people have had the lease, among them Mrs. Mary McClelland, Bill Bishop and Jim Elliott. I must say these people gave good service to the Town people and the visitors. Under the various leases, each of the Town Churches was given the use of the Park for one day in the year; the only one of them now so using the Park, being St. Vincent. It does not seem to me that the present lessees do very much in the way of offering service. For instance, they have abruptly stowed away every table and every bench while the weather is still good. It would seem to me that at least a few of such conveniences might have been left available to the public. Certainly, no one is going to eat the darn things, but they might like a place to sit down when the weather is fine. I saw a lady and some children eating lunch there on Saturday, seated on the ground.

It was Joe Bottomley who had the gravel path laid out through the Park, and as one who has had occasion to use it many times, he has my thanks. The Sports Bowl was leveled out some years ago, under the supervision of Douglas Rodgers and although we have not had much success at ice making of late, it is well adapted for the purposes of an outdoor rink. The kids certainly enjoy the swings and the slide and a host of people lunch there on weekends.

Altogether, I consider that the Park is a decided asset to the Town. For small picnics, it is ideal. It presents no element of danger to small kids. The air is pure and there is some shade when the sun is hot. I would consider it an improvement to plant a few more trees; trees should not be too small to start. Bill Clark had the right idea when he headed the Park Committee. He set out some trees that have no become an ornament to our streets. I shall endeavor to say something about conditions before our Park came into general use, in my next installment.

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GEALE'S GROVE - THE WILDERNESS - PARADISE GROVE
About my earliest remembrance of a picnic was going to a Sunday school picnic at Geale's Grove. Now you will wonder where on earth was Geale's Grove. The answer to that is that it is still there but like many another place, it has changed its name. I don't remember who was living there then, for I was pretty young and it was quite out of the very limited orbit in which I circulated. However, it is now known as the Wilderness and I rather think the Geales must have lived there before they took up residence in the house where Jack Greene and his sister now live.

Where we later on picnicked was at the Oak Grove. This was a part of the Fort George Reserve and was for a long period, leased to the Canada South Railway and by them, named Paradise Grove. There they brought large parties of excursionists from Buffalo. There was quite a large, low building used for dancing besides other smaller structures. Swings dangled from various trees. There was a pump at the brow of the bank with some thirty or forty feet of pipe leading to a spring in the face of the bank. Good, cold, clean water it was too. A long flight of plank steps led down to the river. Many a day's pay we kids made, rowing people around on the river. We used to charge ten cents an hour for each person and we usually made from five to ten dollars for a day's work, which was pretty good for a kid. We later on, much later in fact, bought the Steamer Abino from Will McMillan and we used to ply between the Grove and the Slip at ten cents per person.

One of the features of the furnishings of the Grove was an open rectangular enclosure where lager beer was dished out to the picnickers. On one occasion, they had a Band and I saw them grab any man whom they could lay hands on and place him at the head of the Band. They marched around the grounds, winding up of course at the beer stand, where the temporary leader would set 'em up for the Band and anybody else who happened near. You can imagine the notes proceeding from the instruments would soon become quite liquid. Although, I must say those bandsmen could certainly hold a full cargo and a deckload. I remember on one of these occasions, someone had made up a big wooden tub fill of lemonade. It had positively no customers, so we kids were given permission to help ourselves. You can imagine us imbibing that delicious drink by the bucketful. We drank so darn much of it we could hardly walk and I still think I can feel it swishing around in our "INNARDS" as Jimmy Hutchinson would say. I think I see Mr. Quinn, our Photographer, with his camera on a tripod, doing tintypes at ten cents each and the bus drivers did a flourishing business.

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CHURCH BELLS
As I was looking over a book of poetry, I came across Edgar Allan Poe's, "The Bells" and it suggested to me that this would make an interesting subject for an article. Bells have such a multiplicity of uses, that one sometimes wonders who invented the bell.

My first recollection of a bell is of the old Bell of St. Mark's, calling people to Church. This old bell was removed in 1877 and was given to the Queenston Church. The Dickson family donated a chime of six bells in memory of the wives of Walter and Geale Dickson. William Turner was then Sexton and he couldn't play a tune on them and he used to run a descending scale on those darned bells, till he drove one distracted. However, his wife, a rather large woman, did occasionally play a hymn and it made a welcome change. These bells were made by the Meneeley Bell Company of Troy, New York, the firm who made the bells for St. James Cathedral in Toronto and which bells sound very much like ours. Then in 1917, the Ladies Parish Guild installed three additional bells to complete the set. For this purpose, they used a legacy left to them by Miss Emma Brown. This greatly added to the number of hymn tunes possible to be played. I was Churchwarden when these were installed and came to know young Mr. Meneeley who did the work of installing them. Arthur Wood was then the Sexton and when he passed away in 1930, it was my pleasure to take over the duties of bell ringer, which I carried on until 1944. The largest bell has been tolled for Funerals, although this now seems to be a forgotten custom. It has been tolled for the death of a Sovereign. An old custom was the tolling of "the passing bell," when the bell was sounded once for every year of the life of the person. I myself tolled for the death of the late King George the Fifth. The bells have pealed out many times for weddings and they give a lively send off to the newly wedded.

The only other Church in Town that has a bell is St. Andrew's. As a youngster, it was a far away sound and many times it has called the faithful to worship. Church bells sounding on the air are a reminder to us that after all, there is something in life besides fun and work.

I once boarded for a time on Victoria Street in Toronto within easy sounding distance of a variety of Church bells and was reminded that I was in a City of Churches.

THE TOWN BELL
The only other large bell in Town is the Town Bell. It has often been a matter of regret to me that our Town Bell was tied up to the Clock so that it could not be rung. It had many uses. Not many will now remember that it used to be rung at 6 o'clock in the morning during the summer and at seven in the winter. It was also rung at noon and at six in the evening. Also, there is a curfew law on the Town books requiring it to be rung at nine o'clock at night when all children were required to be off the streets and public places unless accompanied by a parent or other responsible person. This enactment was made at the request of the Public School Board. A good many kids would be better off if this law were put in force again. I am not blaming our Police Force for this, because the Clock Tower was erected before they took office and in fact, before Chief Warner came to Town. This bell was really the Fire Bell and the centenary of its installation was held not so many years ago. Altogether, the Town Bell was quite an institution.

THE FOG BELL
I remember the Fog Bell that used to be on the Riverbank at Fort Mississaugua. It was blown down in 1888 and was not replaced. I have seen a reference to a bell that used to be on the end of the Milloy wharf, but it was gone before my time.

THE HIGH SCHOOL BELL
Then there was the High School Bell and many a time I have heard it ring out, calling pupils, willing or unwilling to come in. I think the Board should move it to Parliament Oak School.

BOAT BELLS
It used to be that Steamers were required to carry a bell, which was to be used when at anchor or stationary. Our Canadian regulations made no mention of a bell on a motor boat. We carried all the equipment ordered by the Canadian Government, but it came about that the U.S. put into effect a set of regulations that required a bell to be carried. On arriving at Youngstown Wharf one summer evening, I was overhauled by an American Officer in a Cruiser and accused of everything short of piracy on the high seas. I managed to appease the higher-ups, however, and escaped life imprisonment or worse. Just a year afterwards I received a very curt notice that when I was overhauled the previous year, I had no bell aboard. "Please send Ten Dollars in payment of fine." So I had to forward ten hard-earned dollars and I had to buy a bell, which cost another ten. We carried the blame thing all the rest of the time we were operating the Ferry. It was a very nice bell and we kept it shined but never had the slightest use for it. I sometimes think the man was right who said, "The Law's an hass."

I remember that when we changed from steam to a motorboat, two very dignified gentlemen arrived to inspect us and tell us what equipment to carry. We received a very grave warning not to use water should we have a fire aboard. And then I discovered in the list of equipment, "Four Fire Pails." I asked why, when we were not allowed to use water on a fire. The old gentleman looked stumped for a moment and then he very blandly explained that they would do to bail out if we got water aboard. Then we had to have an awning over the boat to protect the passengers. Then a year or two later, we were told to leave the awning off, as it was safer without it.

RAILROAD BELLS
One of the familiar bell sounds of days gone by was that of the Railway Engine. One of the jobs of the fireman was to sit and pull the bell cord. They now do it by steam. There was a signal bell in the roof of the engine cab and a cord was attached which ran the whole length of the train.

DINNER BELLS
Then there were the dinner bells of the Hotels and Boarding Houses. Every Hotel had a bell. That of Long's Hotel was the Auction Bell, about which I published an article. I wonder what became of that old bell. Even the Queen's Royal had such a bell. Jim McMillan used to refer to Johnny Rousseau as "Bell-Ringer Johnny."

THE CHESTNUT BELL
Did you ever hear of "A Chestnut Bell"? This was a tiny bell attached to one's coat lapel and the wearer on hearing what was called a chestnut of a yarn, tinkled his wee bell. A rude thing to do, don't you think, but wouldn't you like to have a chestnut bell, sometimes?

COW BELLS
Bells were used to adorn cows and sheep, dogs and I have even seen a cat so decorated. The dismal sounding of an old cowbell, used often to be heard about our streets when cattle ran at large.

SLEIGH BELLS
Another bell sound now seldom heard was that of the sleigh bells. Everyone who had horses had bells to trim them up for winter use. I sometimes saw very musical chimes of three or more bells mounted on a horses harness, but the common fashion was a string of small bells attached to a leather strap, which lay over the horses back. A horse is now a rarity on our streets, so, of course, the bells too have gone bye-bye too.

DOORBELLS
Then there were the varieties of doorbells. Some you cranked, and with some you pushed a knob or button. Doorbells could be very annoying at times. I remember reading of a very saintly bishop who was going along a street when he sees a small boy trying to reach a doorbell. He very kindly approached and rang the bell for the kid, whereupon the kid said, "Now run like hell."

THE AUCTION BELL [From July 8th, 1947]
A small town is a homely place, a sort of large family circle. It has its manners and customs which become a sort of daily round and common task and which are so much a part of its daily life that they pass unnoticed except by those who are not familiar with them. One who has grown old in a small Town is prone to hark back to those manners and customs with mingled feelings, feelings of regret at their passing and feelings of thankfulness that they have passed and been succeeded by something better.

To understand and appreciate some of these ancient customs, one must know something of the times in which they existed. For instance, when I was a boy in this Town, there were no paved roads, no cement walks, no telephone, no electric light, no waterworks, no motor cars, trucks or busses, no public press, no motor boats, no flying machines. Everybody knew every other body. We saw the Train come in, we attended the distribution of the Mail whether we expected any mail or not, we liked to hear old Bob Warren leisurely inform us (without looking, very often), "No, nothing for you." We went to Church, we went to Sunday school, we hoed the garden, we bucked wood, we were in the house by dark, and we had to report on whom we were playing with. There were no picture shows; possibly we might go to a concert once a year. What, you may ask, did we do for recreation. We made our own amusements. Homes were homes and not just places to eat and sleep. Of course, we fought and squabbled, but families were families. We went places together, school and church, and we were home at night and not roaming the streets.

Occasionally, there were Auction Sales. There still are. As I have already said, there was no public press, consequently no printing unless one went out of Town. There was one exception to this, however, as Daddy Cork, the Public School Principal had a little press on which he once printed the financial statement of the Town. So it came to pass that other means of publicity had to be found and there came into use, "The Auction Bell." Now this Bell was not the Town Bell to whose ringing tones the people rose and ate and went to work or ceased to toil, until it was muffled by being hitched to the Town Clock. No, it was the dinner bell at Long's Hotel, and many a time I have heard it pealing out its call to dinner. When lustily swung and when the wind was right, its sound carried far and wide. Bill Long was the keeper of the hotel and a fine man was he, known and respected by people all over the land. Bill was the "Auctioneer." On the day on which a sale was to be held, someone, man or boy, was detailed to patrol the streets, bell in hand, loudly proclaiming when and at whose house a sale was to be held. Picture it: "Marching along, the bell keeping time to the step of the marching feet, a dingily ding, a dingily ding." This was a sight and a sound to thrill a small boy's heart. Did you ever notice how small boys and dogs throng after and about a band? Well, a bell served much the same purpose when I was a boy.

Two incidents stick out in my memory about the Auction Bell. There lived, at one time at the Dock, a character locally known as Jimmy Tay. Now Jimmy worked for some time for Squire Clement who kept a general store where Librock's store now is and who lived in the house now owned and occupied by James Connolly. I might as well tell you how Jimmy Tay got his name, because it all hangs together. Jimmy's remuneration, by the way and according to his own telling when he went to work at Clement's, was to be "sivin dollars a month and ate me, or twilve dollars and ate mesilf." Now Jimmy was an un-observant fellow and one day, soon after going to work at Clement's, he asked Johnny Clement, the boss's son what this "tay" was that people were getting. Johnny asked him if he never had tea in Ireland and Jimmy said "no," so Johnny gave him half a pound of tea to try it. Some days afterwards, Johnny asked Jimmy how he and his sister Moll like the tea. "Oh," said Jimmy, "we didn't care much for the tay, but we liked the broth." They had soaked the tea leaves and tried to eat them with pepper and salt. They liked the broth. So Jimmy became Jimmy Tay. It came about in the course of time that the business ended and a sale was to be held, and who more fitted to do the bell ringing than Jimmy Tay. If you had seen and heard Jimmy and the bell, up and down the streets proclaiming at the top of his voice, "Oction Sale at Misther Kilmint's, Oction sale at Misther Kilmint's", a dingily ding, a dingily ding. With a tail of a couple of dozen kids behind him, loudly imitating poor Jimmy, you would have enjoyed it as much as did the kids. It annoyed Jimmy, of course and he would break off every few minutes to yell at the kids, "Go long now, ye dam brats," which didn't hurt the kid's feelings even a little.

The other incident was not quite so funny, although we kids in Town got quite a kick out of it. A boy named Will McBride was the perpetrator of this prank. While patrolling with the bell, be passed the school while it was in session, I say passed. He didn't. He sat out on the corner and rang the darned bell till Daddy Cork blew up and sent for Bill Curtis who was then Chief Constable, to remove the nuisance.

Well, the Auction Bell rings no more. A quaint custom, useful and interesting, it had its day and ceased to be.

THE PUBLIC SCHOOL BELL
A lady friend called me up a day or two ago to tell me that I had overlooked Mr. Lyall's School Bell in my article on Bells. I well remember that bell as it was wielded by Daddy Cork during my school days. Pa Andrews also had a little bell with which he used to summon the pupils from the other room during school hours.

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SNOW FIGHTS
The Public School Bell brings to my recollection another subject that of inter-school snow fights. After I graduated from High School, there grew up a decided rivalry between the two schools and I sometimes had to take to my heels when a cry smote my ears, "Tack the Grammars." You see the High School was so dubbed by those "rude fellows of the baser sort," who attended the "Common School." And one of the results of this coolness between the schools led to snow fights. On several occasions, the Pubs had constructed a fort on the street intersection. This was made of snowballs about two feet in diameter, and rolled together to form a square. From this Fort, they issued en masse, yelling defiance and armed with a supply of balls, with which to vanquish the foe. We, the foe, invariably accepted this challenge with fiendish glee, being armed and ready. It so happened that, though we were much fewer in numbers, something worked with us and we always succeeded in getting the dastards on the run. There would be Daddy Cork at an upstairs window, watching the fray. And always, on seeing his stalwarts about to break up, he take out a bell and like Barbara Fritchie, he "shook it forth with a royal will", thereby saving the faces of his cohorts by calling them into school. Them were the good old days. One day, they were entrenched in their fortress, while we were observing their defenses. Omer Devoe was our biggest man; he spied Butcher Best in one corner of the fort. Butch would bob up and fire a ball and duck down. Harry Andrews could make a small ball as hard as a bullet. Omer called on him to produce one or two such and Omer, who was a dead shot, said "Watch me pin Butch." As Butch's head popped up he let fly with deadly aim and the last we saw of Butch, he was legging it for home and fireside, dripping gore.

There were various ways in which people of our Town showed Man's desire to outstrip his fellows. I often think how obsessed some people became with the idea of getting the best of the other fellow. Not that I think it a sin and a shame to rise above the dead level. There seems to be a constant urge to outdo the other fellow, whether it may be in sport or in business. One listens to the radio broadcasters expatiating on the merits of somebody's soap or this one's make of car or of sausage or "sumpin" till you get sick and tired of listening. One thinks of the story of the two Indian women who went into to Town to sell fish. One knew very little English and the other less. So the one went along calling "Fresh fish," and the other followed after calling "Me too, me too." Men have devised a multitude of ways to get the best of the other fellow.

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OUR OLD MAIN STREET
That muddy old street of ours has seen many changes. It many times has echoed to the tramp of marching feet. It has had cannon balls hurtling along it as the American invaders came. I remember the late Robert Cox telling me that his father helped man a gun placed abreast of Fort George. There they fired at the advancing foe, until they got too close, when they spiked the gun and retreated up to the River Road. Think of the parades that have traversed its length. I well remember the Victory Parade on November 11th, 1918. Think of the funeral processions that it has had travel its length. Think of its mud and its raised crossings. Its stores with their wooden shutters, its tie posts. What tales it could tell if it could speak.

THE BUTCHER SHOPS
Our main street has seen many changes in business as well as in other things. For instance, the Butcher shops were run by Butchers. I mean by that, that men learned and practiced the art of Butchering, the killing and cutting up of animals for human consumption. They had slaughterhouses. The old Best Slaughterhouse was taken down not so long ago by the Shipleys. There were the Bests, the Bishops, Bill Longhurst, the McClellands and the Sandos. They went out in the country and bought animals as they needed them. And you could buy any part of a beast that you fancied. There were no trucks to bring you in so many pounds of this or that you might feel that you could dispose of. There were no ice show cases where you see whatever there was on display. To be sure, Butchers had iceboxes but they had ice cut from the slip or the river or one of the large ponds to keep them cool. They often displayed smoked fish in front of their shops. Of course, there were flies, plenty of them, but one didn't mind flies. They were part of everyday life.

THE CANDY SHOPS
There weren't many Candy shops. Candy Evans, whose name you may see in the cement walk in front of his old shop; now the home of his granddaughter, Mrs. Parker. There were two little Candy shops on Ricardo Street kept by Mrs. Wilson and by Mrs. Young. Mrs. Wilson's shop has been moved and forms the front part of a house now occupied by the Leaches. The Young shop is now the home of Linc Quinn, although it was taken down and rebuilt after William Quinn, the father of Linc, bought the property. The late William Thompson was the Carpenter who did the work.

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THE BAKERIES
There were no outside Baker's trucks coming into Town. Before Mrs. Swift opened up, Ned Patterson had the Town Bakery there. But, as nearly every housewife baked her own bread, the business was small. As I remember the business, the oldest son Eddy was chief baker and the next son Billy did the delivering. A couple of hours covered the route. I remember that one day, I counted from the office window ten different Bakery Trucks passing, all from out of Town. Bob Keerins also was a Baker and had a small shop on the site of the Theatre. Later on, Mrs. Murphy had a Candy and Ice Cream shop there and when Mrs. Swift built the shop and moved across the street, she moved into the shop vacated by Mrs. Swift.

THE PLUMBERS
There were no Plumbers here and no plumbing. Our Waterworks were installed in 1891 and Sam Crawford was about the first real plumber that we had. He had his business in a building beside the Evans shop on Picton Street and which has since been taken down. Then we had Alf Armstrong. He was usually known as Windy, which was no exaggeration. He had his shop at one time, where the Chinese restaurant is now and at another time, he had part of the building that stood on the corner of King and Market Streets. When the N. S. and T. Railway leased the site from the Town, Armstrong's shop was moved to Prideaux Street and is now the George Corus house. Another part of the same building was moved to a site on Market Street, where Mrs. Addison, the mother of Frank Addison lived. This was lately sold by Mrs. John Bolton.

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HARDWARE, WATCH REPAIR AND DRUG STORES
There were no hardware stores, although most of the grocery stores sold some hardware. Now, most of the groceries sell meats and the butcher shops sell groceries. Now we have no watch and clock repair shops. When I was a lad, there was an old man who had a shop in a little place nook called "The Hole in the Wall." Then came along Phil Librock who at first did some travelling from house to house and then settled in the store now occupied by Harold Boyle. There he carried on a successful business until he died. He was succeeded by his son who carried on until he felt unable to do so and sold out. So the watch repair business is gone, after a period of useful service which had lasted for over sixty-five years. Tom Ferguson started a business in the store now occupied by the Club 19. I think that would be in the 1890's. Bert St. John opened a Drug Store across the way, where Bill Zoeger is now, and after a time, the firm became St. John and Ferguson, Tom moving in with Bert. They afterwards moved to the store now the Liquor Store and here they carried on both businesses until they dissolved partnership. Jim Connolly bought the watch repair business, he having worked under Ferguson and Will Campbell bought out the drug part of the business. Jim Connolly moved to his present store, where after a time, he gave up the watch repair part of his business. So with the closing out of the Librock Watchmaking establishment, that business has joined the rest of Niagara's past.

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THE TINSMITHS
There are no more Tinsmiths. The first I remember was William Turner. His last place of business was in the building lately the abode of Mrs. Matilda Bolton. Harry Wilson worked for him for a time and later was in business for himself. I remember going to his shop one night in the summer of 1895 with John McEwen, mate of the Cibola, that had burned the previous night. We went to get a long galvanized iron pump made with which four of us pumped water out of the steamer's hull to keep her from sinking. That store was the one now occupied by Fry. Harry Wilson afterwards did business in the shop now that of Gus Chambers. Sam Crawford and Alf Armstrong were both tinsmiths as well as Plumbers. I have a coal scuttle, one of a pair made for me by Armstrong. It must be over 40 years old and has been in constant use.

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THE STEWART BUILDING
That building of Stewart's has seen many changes. I can remember many different businesses in the three stores. The one where Jack Bates is, was Tom Blain's Dry Goods when I first remember it. Afterwards, Tait's of St. Catharines had a branch store there. Before Bates, Campbell's Pharmacy was there. In the middle store, there have been quite a variety of businesses. Tom Holahan had his Shoe Shop there. At one time, a man named Jordan had a sort of Junk Shop there. I had the job as Bailiff of serving him the papers that sold him out. Harry Wilson's Tinshop was there. I remember how Harry used to grin. He had on of those old fashioned Coal stoves placed at the back of the shop. It had a complete set of mica doors. Harry had some red tissue paper placed around inside the stove, and he used to put a small, lighted coal oil lamp inside, which gave it a pleasant glow. People would come in and seeing that pleasant glow would warm their hands at it, much to Harry's delight. Harrison's business was in there, as well as various restaurant businesses. The Chinese Laundry was there for a time. In the third store, there have also been various activities. There the Niagara Times had its beginning with Pickwell Brothers as its owners. They moved from there to the store now Pete Marino's. I remember helping them to move a stove with the fire burning on a hand sleigh and setting it up without letting the fire go out. They later on sold out to the Rev. J. S. Clarke, who moved the business to the Connolly building which Mr. Clarke had purchased. After Mr. Clarke's death Mrs. Clarke sold out to Jim Skelton, and he in turn sold the plant to Hiram Moshier, the Printer and as a Newspaper, the Times ceased to exist. Moshier moved the printing equipment to the Harrison building, now Stewart's. After a time, he gave up the job of printing and Harrison became the owner of the printing equipment that later was used when they started the Niagara Advance in the present Harrison building. They brought Ed Rennan here to run the Advance and he later took it over and moved it to the birthplace of the Niagara Times. So that particular store has had two different newspapers issued from within its walls. It has been used as a restaurant, a real estate office and now a Five Cents to a Dollar Store, which seems to be a flourishing concern and likely to continue. The Stewart building originally had a third story. As I first remember it, the Methodist Church was using it to hold services while the present church was being refitted. There they held Sunday school, with Bob Warren, the Postmaster as Superintendent. And there for several years, the Salvation Army held forth, finally giving Niagara up as a bad job.

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EXTRACTS
I seem to have temporarily at least, ran out of material for my reminiscences and I thought a few extracts from my clippings might prove entertaining to my readers. I have quite a number of items, and on idly turning them over, I selected a few as follows...

I have a card dated December 1st, 1903. It is that of Morris Bros. of Eighth Avenue, New York City, Restaurant and Oyster House. They advertise a 25 cent dinner and itemize such things as roast loin of pork with sauerkraut 15 cents and a similar price for leg of lamb with green peas, roast round of beef, etc. Their desserts were 5 cents such as rice or English Plum Pudding, Apple Dumplings and so on, while tea, coffee or milk were also 5 cents. Doesn't it make you sigh for the days that are no more? However, on the back of their card was printed the following:

DON'T USE BIG WORDS
In promulgating esoteric cogitations or articulating superficial sentimentalities and philosophical or psychological observations, beware of platitudinous ponderosity. Let your statements possess a clarified conciseness, compacted comprehensibleness, coalescent consistency and a concentrated cogency. Eschew all conglomerations or flatulent garrulity, jejune babblement and asinine affectations. Let your extemporaneous descantings and unpremeditated expatiation have intelligibility and veracious vivacity, without rodomontade or thrasonical bombast. Sedulously avoid all polysyllabic profundity, psittacistic vacuity, ventriloquial verbosity and vandiloquent vapidity. Shun double entendre, prurient jocosity and pestiferous profanity, whether obscurant or apparent.

In other words, talk plainly, sensibly and truthfully. I have a mental picture of a run on the dictionary for a few days.

"A" STORY
Adolph an Austrian artisan, adored Anna, an aristocrat. And Anna adored Adolph. Another aristocrat, Alfred, an Ambassador, adored Anna. Anna abhorred Alfred. Alfred addressed Anna, admitting admiration. Anna assumed amazement. Alfred adjured Anna. Anna admonished Alfred. Alfred adopted aggressiveness. Alfred's audacity alarmed Anna. Alfred attempted abducting Anna. Anna, afraid and agitated, acquainted Adolph. Adolph accused Alfred. Alfred, angered, abused Adolph awfully. Adolph answered Alfred. Alfred attacked Adolph. Anna, aghast, aided Adolph. Anna almost annihilated Alfred. Alfred abdicated absolutely. Anna accepted Adolph. Adolph and Anna abruptly absconded and abandoned Austria altogether, arriving at Antwerp and always abiding abroad afterward.

THE HEN'S MESSAGE
A truthful Australian relates that he put a porcelain egg in the nest of a hen and found that the eggs she laid were of an increased size. Then he put a goose egg in the nest and the hen laid one just as big. He was so pleased that he put a whitewashed ball in the nest and when next he looked for eggs, he found one as big as a football. Securing the egg, he found engraved on it these words. "I'm no ostrich, but I've done my best. Later he found the hen inside the egg.

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