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Archiver > VERMONT > 1999-05 > 0926624548


From: "Jackie M. Botala" <>
Subject: [VERMONT-L] more old papers...
Date: Thu, 13 May 1999 12:42:28 -0700


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(Livestock Dealer continued....)

By way of equipment the drovers carried their stock
canes and a hammer and nails for building partitions.
Their lunch basket was a pretty important thing to have
along, too. Birney Combs, son of Byron, recalls a time
when he had nothing to eat from Friday to Monday except
Fridays lunch and some potatoes found in a potato car.
Another time the drovers were snowbound in the caboose
for twenty-four hours.
If a man wanted to get to Boston he would apply for a job
as drover. The first thing done to this stranger in the clean
overalls, was to get him dirty, then he would work harder.
Often a cow would get down and it was a struggle to get her
back on her feet. Sometimes it was necessary to carry out a hog.
The problem with feeding young calves was met with ingenuity.
Birney related the following experience when he chaperoned
one hundred and thirty seven young calves; "I took with me a
barrel of milk powder, an empty barrel, portable partitions,
pails and bottles, hammer and nails. Feeding time came in
St. Albans. With water form the engine I made a perfect milk.
Working in front of the partition I could feed a couple of bottles
at a time. Then I would shove two calves through into another
partition and in three hours I had fed all one hundred and thirty-
seven calves."
Sheep selling was also profitable in those days. My dad
remembers going to Freleighsburg, Canada after some
sheep when he was about ten years old. They took a big
concord wagon which would hold three sheep in case some
tired on the journey, and three men.
They had to eat breakfast at three o'clock in the morning,
in order to get to Freleighsburg and meet the drove of sheep
at seven. Then it would take them all day to drive them into
Richford. One time when he got into Richford he was so
tired he that leaned against a post and went to sleep standing
up.
Father and sons went after a herd of goats in South Richford
once. The goat were about as tame as deer, and where one
went the other would follow. The men finally cornered the goats
on the top of an icy ledge. Dad caught one and attempted to
lead it down. As they both lost their footing and came crashing
down to land at Grandfather's feet, he shouted:"Don't hurt the
goat!"

(Contributed by Marjorie Combs Roberts, East Berkshire)

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