Growing Up
In Montana With Pioneer Artist F.Y. Cory (Cooney)
F.Y. Cory Publishers, Inc.
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A Breakfast "Fit for a King” (and Grandpa Cooney)
by Sayre Cooney Dodgson (The daughter of F.Y. Cory)
Then, what a breakfast. It wasn't a sketchy, hurried
meal, grabbed up as people had time... It was a heart warming, vital,
"good start for the day" time, together. The children all "got
up" when they were called (whether they felt like it or not!). They all
washed their faces in cold water (in a basin on a chair, in the far corner of
the kitchen) (also whether they wanted to, or not) to "wake them up"!
Then as everybody gathered around the oak table in the dining room as likely as
not there would be a big platter piled high with pancakes with hot, home-made
maple flavored syrup, or "cherry bounce" (which was jam, made out of
wild "choke cherries") --or "buffalo berry jell" (how
tart.). Mother and Dad enjoyed their coffee and let us have "cambric
coffee" if we liked (mostly milk). Those were still the days when
"children were supposed to be seen and not heard", so the three young
Cooneys mostly listened as Mother and Daddy exchanged views on the politics of
the day, or talked about the days' projects, or discussed some problems about
the place. Often they all laughed and chuckled over old family jokes or talked
about a forth-coming picnic, camping trip, fishing, swimming or skating party
or hike, depending on the time of year. Often there was "hired help"
also around the sociable round table. There might be "Bolo Bill,"
"Buckshot McGee", Grant McConnell, Earn Douglas, or other picturesque
characters who helped Fred (Dad) with his horse-breaking and cattle roping and
branding. Each, in turn, was more or less a member of the family, and inhabited
the "bunk house" over past the corrals (except at meal times) when
many hair-raising experiences with cattle or horses would be exchanged and
laughed about. Sometimes a "hired girl" (to help Mother in the
kitchen) would also be adopted into the family as Eliza Pyle, Dessie McGregor,
or Dede Walker. In these days $25.00 a month was considered a good wage for "help"
along with their board and room.
Click on picture to view larger picture (typical)
F.Y. Cory (Cooney) and her rancher Husband Fred Cooney
As Sayre, Bob and Ted grew older, they all had chores
to do, as setting the table, and wiping dishes (for Sayre), bringing in arm
loads of wood from the wood pile to the wood box in the kitchen. The wood box
was a perfect perch for visiting hunters --hunting for deer, ducks, grouses
Canadian geese and prairie chickens. They would sit there and talk, while Fanny
was getting supper gaily enjoying, with Fred, their laughter and jokes and
tales of great hunting experiences. Another chore was drawing up and bringing
in buckets of water from the well, for the boys. The well was a picturesque
rock one, across the roadway from the back door, with a cottonwood tree on one
side and a lilac bush on the other.
A slope beyond (behind the well) led down to the huge
garden where all members of the family worked with more or less zeal.
Originally it was Grandpa Cooneys pride, and he didn't wish anybody else to
"monkey" with it! In the early days of Fanny and Fred's marriage,
Fanny had a wonderful Chinese Cook, named "Gim", who had formerly
worked for her and her floods of company at her retreat bungalow, at Beaver
Creek --in the mountains to the northeast of Helena. Gim "fussed"
over company she said, but always turned out marvelous meals! Well,
unfortunately, he got in very bad with Grandpa Cooney by monkeying in his
garden. Grandpa was heard to bellow that he'd "Just as soon have a cow in
the garden as that Chinaman!" This was too much of an insult for poor Gim,
who tearfully packed his few things together, saying that he couldn't live in
the same house with that "old gentleman!" - and had Fred take him to
"town" (Helena) in the "light wagon." Fanny confesses she
had tears in her eyes too, as he left.
Grandpa Cooney really lived in a picturesque log cabin
down the path on the bank of the Lake, where Avalanche Creek flowed into a
"Pond," after it meandered between the lower edge of the garden and
the higher ground, where the corrals and barn and bunkhouse were. This (Grandpa's)
cabin had one door and three windows and looked up towards the "head of
the lake" and the dreamy hills, (towards Winston) beyond. A huge willow
tree grew nearby on the pond side and made a wonderful place for tree houses
--the grandchildren later found. The small house itself was made of peeled logs
which had been saved from the old Cooney house which had been Grandpa and
Grandma's home much earlier, when they lived with their nine children (Ed,
George, Tom, Fred, Ella, Ag, Alf, Sid, and Winnie) in the rich, low, Missouri
River valley --before the Montana Power Co. had built a dam at Canyon Ferry.
After the dam had "gone in" this rich "bottom land" had
been flooded out --with its acres of natural pastureland and Indian arrowheads
along the river. Grandpa had died, when the children were very small. While he
had loved his little cabin on the lake in the summer, in the winter he had
agreed to go to "town" with "Ma and the girls", on account
of his "rheumatics." His great enjoyment in the summer was fishing
for perch ("a parch is a good fash") with his long bamboo pole. The
grandchildren had the honor of helping him dig and find angleworms. They would
also run down the little winding path and call him for meals.
On the left hand side of
the well, under the cottonwood tree, was a long, low, wooden table, which held
the tubs on washday. During all the early years, Fanny energetically scrubbed
out the dirty clothes on a scrub board at the first tub, (many had to be boiled
in a big clothes boiler, on the wood range, in the kitchen.) and then wrung
them with hand wringer into the second tub and then into a big clothes basket
to be pinned on the lines. In winter the washing had to be done in the kitchen,
and clothes would freeze stiff as they were hung on the line. Whether winter or
summer, how sweet they would always smell when they came into the house. There
was a family story about how Fred (Daddy) had taken buckets of diapers, down to
the lake to wash them, when we were very young. Dear little Fanny felt that the
house should be so clean, for her marvelous babies, that she used to make or
have Daddy mop her kitchen floor every single day. She even tried to do it in
milk, for special. By the time Ted came along though, she didn't worry so much
--but took it a little easier --"in stride". He was allowed to just
sort of "grow", like "Topsy".
In those "good old days" there were no drip-dry
clothes --and, of course, no electric irons! Light irons had a detachable
wooden handle and heavy, flat irons were lifted and handled with as many hot
pads as necessary to keep ones hands from being burned since the irons were
repeatedly heated on the hot kitchen stove. The ironing board was stretched
between the "sink" or the small table and the top of a chair, or the
breadboard, in the kitchen, where the range (stove) had to be kept "piping
hot" to heat the irons. In the summer a slightly cooler place to work was
the dining room through the little "entry". The entry was a cheery
little hall between the kitchen and dining room --with shelves of dishes on one
side and a window on the other. That window was hard to wash because it was
divided in about 4" panes, set in deep block wood molding. A continuous
row of three of these same type of windows, in the dining room, also faced the
South. Facing the Lake (West) was a tall, diamond paned French-door type of
window, which was harder yet to wash) where the ironing board could be
stretched between a window ledge and the round dining table, with all the
windows open. In summer, among other advantages, tall, colorful hollyhocks
nodded in the window. In the winter a piece of tallow hung there for hungry
birdies to peck and fight over.
The Romance of the Corals
by Sayre Cooney Dodgson
(The daughter of F.Y. Cory)
The children, from a very early age, were intrigued by
the "goings on" over at the corrals. Dad usually had hired men to
help him round up and bring in a band of horses or cattle from the range. They
would mill wildly around in the big corral (after they were finally driven in
with much dust and breaking away this way and that). And then, as they were to
be "halter broke", or branded, they were herded individually into one
of the two "small" corrals --or into the "shoot" sometimes
for horses. There would be a small fire by the saddle shed to heat branding
irons to red hot. The Cooney brands were 7V for horses and 49 for calves. There
would be expert twirling and throwing of lariat ropes and tying down of the
kicking, struggling, frightened animals. Then there would be the smoke of branding
irons, warnings of men to "be careful" and "look out", and
sometimes the lunging of a wild brute against the fence. How very sturdily
these corals had to be built!
Click on picture to
view larger picture (typical)
The coral was such a wonderful perch for extra cowboys
who seemed to be always attracted at branding or breaking times –and who have
been known to leap off precipitously, as a plunging steer or bronco careened
into it! The children were allowed only to peek through the slats, and, indeed
wouldn't have wished to get any closer. Mother always was in the kitchen,
cooking up a big meal for any and all workers. In fact, it was an unwritten law
at this time, in rural Montana, that whoever "dropped in" on
horse-back, wagon, or on foot was invited to eat, with the family.
Fairy Stories and Books
by
Sayre Cooney Dodgson (The daughter of F.Y. Cory)
There may not be many people today who have heard
about "The Nine Little Green Men". But there were three small people
some years ago, who would rather listen to stories of "the little green
men" than anything else --as they sat around Mother's knee, by the cozy
stove in their "front room", before going to bed. The best part of
these fanciful stories was that these three small people saw themselves taking
important parts in the fascinating adventures that tripped so easily from
Mother's lips! She never seemed to be too tired to give her time to making
these children happy, before sending them off to bed. And the last ritual of
all --after their last urgent teasing for "more story" had failed,
was their "Now I lay me" prayer, which she had taught them at her
knee.
Click on picture to
view larger picture (typical)
F.Y. Cory with her 3 kids gathered around her chair on
the Montana ranch.
Left to Right: Bob, Ted and Sayre
As their little Mother had always been a great reader
of books and said she couldn't remember a time when she wasn't able to read,
she had read every book in the Helena Public Library by the time she was
eleven! So, very early, she started reading books to her three babies --for
their mutual pleasure. They were such books as: The Secret Garden, Little
Women, Little Men, Under the Lilacs, Treasure Island, Kidnapped, The Christmas
Carol, David Copperfield, Ivanhoe and The Jungle Books. These and many, many
others held us spellbound, night after night. Small Ted would rebel, as Mother
started to read a new Dickens (they were usually large volumes and so were
given to lengthy descriptions) --but, as the story progressed and gained in
excitement, he was the most fascinated listener of all! In these days, reading
at night was done by kerosene lamp and sometimes, when the kerosene ran out,
Mother even read with a candle in one hand. She made the characters come alive
by her dramatic renditions as she sat in her rocking chair by the cozy stove,
during long winter evenings with her appreciative audience close around her.
After Dad had read his paper by the dining room table, he would often join
them, stretching on the couch --and sometimes being soothed to sleep.
At a certain stage in Bob and Ted's lives the romantic
novels of "when knighthood was in flower" completely captivated their
imaginations! They became knights, bold and brave, having thrilling and
blood-curdling adventures. They spent much time drawing suits of armor with
highly decorated shields and helmets with plumes flying! Ted thought of himself
as "Sir William the Great," and made up a poem, which contained these
words: "Sir William the Great hit him over the pate. Now don't you think
that's a terrible fate?"
The Most Important Thing
by Sayre Cooney Dodgson (The daughter of F.Y. Cory)
When the children were ready to pull hair in a rage,
Mother gave them a serious (motherly) talk which they knew that she meant --and
which they would never forget (though they might not always act upon it.) It
was this: "Do you know that love is the most important thing in this whole
world? It is the strongest thing in this whole world, too! The children
couldn't quite see how this was true, but if Mother said so, it must be!
She would punish them in the good, old-fashioned way,
with her hand on their bare "bottoms". And when she found this was
too hard on her hand, she used a brisk hairbrush. This was a marvelous
instrument of correction until young Ted hid it one day! Mother didn't
"lay on the paddy whacks" until her anger was kindled to the boiling
point! And then, her children (seeing that flash in her eyes) would scream
"I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I'll never do it again!" Whether or not the
"paddy whacks" fell, there was always a marvelous reconciliation,
afterwards. There were great outpourings of tears, and huggings, with many an
"I love you!" from both sides.
When Mother lost her patience with Daddy, and said
some hot words to him, she would very soon come up close, and give him a warm little
pat on the arm and whisper "I'm sorry." This was, whether or not, she
thought she had really been wrong! So, her teaching of loving and forgiving
each other was probably Mother's most valuable lesson to her family, as we look
back, through the years.
That Unquenchable Sparkle
by
Sayre Cooney Dodgson (The daughter of F.Y. Cory)
Many
can have talent, but genius is another matter. As Fanny Y. Cory's son, Bob,
once quipped many years ago (having reference to himself, brother Ted and
sister Sayre, who were fond of dreams and were slightly impractical) "We
have all the attributes of genius, but the genius!"
Fanny Y. Cory (Mother) always insisted that I had more
talent than she had. Said she, "Sayre would be a greater artist"
(than she was, herself) some day --when she had gone to "art school",
and all. What a lovely dream this was through all my growing up years. With the
dream in mind, after High School, I worked as library assistant at the Helena
Public Library where I became so interested in library work that I might
possibly have been sidetracked, except for that wonderful dream. Finally, the
time came when enough money was saved up --and Mother was doing her adorable
cartoon feature, "Sonny-Sayings" for the Ledger Syndicate in
Philadelphia, so that the long cherished dream could become a reality!
Click on picture
to view larger picture (typical)
Sayre Cooney Dodgson as a young lady standing in front
of the Montana ranch house.
How the dear relatives and neighbors banded together
the night of that dramatic departure, when Fanny (who was going with me, to get
me started) and I took off from Helen on the Northern Pacific, heading East!
There had been a warm-hearted gathering at the little house on 6th Avenue
(across from "Grandma's") with refreshments and joking, and gay well
wishes! All the "gang" were there, made up of Sheriffs, Durfees and
Miles (and Abe and Len Knowles). I was even bold enough to kiss Court Sheriff,
Margaret and John Hall and Roy Durfee good-by!
F.Y.C. was taking a little "time off" from
her busy life to see that Sayre got a good start at Art School. And surely the
two wild travelers had a wonderful trip --stopping for a visit to see
"Aunt Tiny" and parents (and the "Mahony girls" --Molly and
Eva) in Omaha and Cousin John and Elise McDougall in Chicago (He was a member
of the Board of Trade) following in the footsteps of his father. Then we were
entertained in Washington, D.C. by a kind family of "Thompsons", who
were "Sonny fans" and had become acquainted with Mother by letters.
Their daughter, Joan, (around 9 years old) was a darling girl, who had her own
Sonny book, made of clippings from "The Washington Star." They
entertained us royally and took us on a personally conducted tour of their
famous city. My head was swimming --finding myself in the center of famous
places, about which I had long heard, read and dreamed! Could it be true?
Fanny Young Cory --Remembering
By Fanny Y. Cory (written when she was 91 years old.)
You (Sayre) had a little potty poo chair and I'd put
you on it and tell you if you would try hard and have a movement I would
"dance and sing" with glee. So if you met with success in your
efforts you'd reach down and tap on the floor and cry "Dance and sing!
Dance and sing" and I'd cavort around like mad, to your great glee.
Click on picture to view larger picture (typical)
F.Y. Cory in her 90s at her home on Camano Island, WA
with her daughter Sayre Cooney Dodgson and her grandson Bob Dodgson
Once I was getting ready to go to a ladies afternoon
--heating the curling iron over a lamp. Bob was watching me with deep interest
and finally remarked thoughtfully "I spose you're the oldest woman in the
world, ain't you muver?" Thus taking me off my high horse.
One day Sayre was making a
lot of noise in her play and I said, "If you must scream, go outdoors to
do it!" Hours later I heard her screaming terribly and flew out in a great
fright to find her standing at the corner of the house with her mouth wide open
letting out scream after scream. "What is it?" I cried in a great
fright, fearing a rattlesnake bite at the least --but she said calmly,
"You told me to go outdoors to do it and I am. "What could I say? I
had told her that.
Rattlesnakes were my constant fear for the children.
Bob and Sayre ran in one day to say that Ted was poking at a snake that had run
down a hole. I rushed out. Sure enough, there was little Ted poking with much
earnestness in a hole --made no doubt by a gopher. But, they were often taken
over by the snakes as a nice cool place to rest in. Now, there was a high flat
area above our house, where the gophers had lived in times past but the snakes
had driven them out and taken over. In going after the milk cow Sayre had seen
two big snakes up there, and had come back and told me. She was looking pretty
scared but she still brought the cow in. I went right up with the shotgun and
sure enough two big rattlers were sunning themselves at the edge of two
separate holes. I shot them --but we called that "rattlesnake flat"
from then on --and we seldom failed to see one or more whenever we went up
there. In fact at breakfast one morning, we had been entertaining visitors when
someone said "What will we do this morning?" we said, "Let's go
rattlesnaking." They laughed thinking we were joking, but we took them up
on the flat and sure enough killed several.
I think they must have found that a nice dry place to
live, and having killed the little owners took over. There was a den of
rattlesnakes at the mouth of Whites Gulch. The men found it and a hundred or so
snakes. By this time you'll never see one. I asked Grandma how she managed to
raise her family in such a place. She said, "The big, ones took care of
the little ones, and the Lord took care of us all." He must have, for they
all grew up to man and womanhood. At one point, Fred was sent to find his
little sister, Winnie. He found her gathering eggs and about to reach into a
high up box. Fred took the little hand down. Being taller, he could see a
rattlesnake coiled in the box. That's the sort of thing they risked and
survived. Nowadays the children run more risks --of a different kind. But, I
trust God will still look after them.
This page was created by Fanny Young Cory’s grandson –Bob Dodgson
Email comments, questions to dodgsonr@yahoo.com
F.Y. Cory Publishers, Inc.
21230 Damson Road
Bothell, WA 98021
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