In the year of 1898, Henry said to Susie lets get married I can't wait.
Susie said you must ask my father, before we set the date.
So to George Hind Henry clamored
"I want to marry your lovely daughter," he stammered.
George said, "Well I guess you can
If she has decided that you're her man."
So with needle and thread, Susie got busy
Helping her out were Hanna and Lizzie.
Laces and lines, and quilts they did make
For their love nest, she would take.
Henry raised a crop of grain
For a marriage license, to gain.
When the work was done in the fall
Henry said, "Let's get married now, come on, don't stall."
So they set the date, ninth of November
Henry's birthday or do you remember.
In Tom Graghead's wagon and George Hind's white mares
Went Susie, her mother, Henry, and their prayers.
It was a cold November morning
And not much danger of it storming.
Susie looked both snug and sweet
With heated rocks placed at her feet.
When they arrived to the temple Henry unhooked the horses
And fed them hay
For he knew to get married twould take most of the day.
Grandma Hinds said, "Now don't get nervous and don't cry
For this is your ideas, though I don't know why."
It was President Marrioner W. Merrill who tied the knot
And to this day neither Susie or Henry have forgot.
The first ten days of married life
Was spent at George Hinds by Henry and wife.
Then they rented a log house, at lst North and lst West.
It was all they could get, in fact the best.
Henry had a job, milking cows for John Bain.
He had to milk them twice a day, and feed them hay and grain.
They couldn't get rich if this job they did foller
For his wages by the month was only fifteen dollar.
So in April they did go
To a farm in Tetonia Idaho.
They packed in a Wagnall that was able
Their second hand bed, stove, chairs, and table.
They had to take food for both them and the nags
So they had filled to the brim cans, boxes and bags.
Grandpa Hinds gave them six laying hens
They hung to the wagon in a couple of pens.
Quite a load Henry's old nags was draggin'
Henry and Susie each night slept under the wagon.
It wasn't all fun and comfort you know
For some mornings they awakened, all covered with snow.
Henry would build a camp fire and Susie made
Breakfast from eggs those hens in the pens had layed.
They had a man travel with them by the name of Hill
Until the law caught up with him and gave him a spill
For this man Hill had stolen a beautiful collie.
A lover of dogs that was his folly.
An officer met him at St. Anthony Idaho.
And said, "Pay the dog owner's expenses home or to jail you will go."
So I think Henry and Susie got their fill
Of their traveling companion Mr. Hill.
When they got to Idaho Falls a nice family took them through their door
And gave them their supper, breakfast, and a bed on the floor.
They arrived at Tetonia on April, 21st.
Had to sleep in the granary two nights none the worse.
They got busy to fix their two roomed home
Vowing that they would no more roam.
They papered their walls with a Canadian paper
Which made it feel both warmer and safer.
This paper come once a week, cost a dollar a year
Was full of the news of the day and political smear.
They had no electricity, bath rooms, and such
And no telephone for their folks to get in touch.
They carried their water one block from Peter Swenson's well
So a barrel of that water would have to last a spell.
They did their evening work by kerosene lamps
Don't you think that they were a couple of champs?
Their only recreation was visiting with their neighbor
And going to church once a week to rest from their labor.
They borrowed a neighbor's cow for their butter and milk the first year
And then they bought two of their own so they could raise a baby so dear.
On a dark cold December night
Henry in wagon did take flight.
To bring home Mrs. Homer, a midwife,
To help bring to this world a new life.
A little girl isn't she sweet
A pretty pink face and the tiniest feet.
She was born in December, what do you say
We will name her Mary and the next one Fay.
Susie did her washing with a ray of hope
And nothing but a scrubbing board, water, and homemade soap.
Henry brought the meat home, wild ducks, and fish.
When Susie cooked it on the old wood stove it was quite a dish.
When Mary was four months old
Henry got some mining in so I am told.
From April until February he was mining for more dough
Then back to Tetonia and the farm they did go.
Henry said, "How about my mother coming to stay for a spell."
Susie said, "We will soon need a midwife, so I guess she might as well."
On July the 14th just at the break of day
Was born another pretty girl the one that they named Fay.
Now Susie's got her hands full scrubbing out the diddies
Cooking meals for Henry and keeping her two rooms tidy.
Henry takes a load of grain to town just before snow flies
And brings back their needs, their winter's supplies.
On one of these return trips
Susie helped unpack the grips
And a big plug of tobacco she did find.
I'll hide it she said, a place I have in mind
So she buried it way down deep in the wheat.
Well for a week or two Henry's disposition wasn't too sweet
But hiding the plug did the trick
It broke him of chewing rather quick.
Henry's mother come again to stay
To help look after Mary and Fay.
And her doctor services were needed.
On November 5th all work was completed
Henry was bubbling over with joy
You have guessed it right, it was a boy.
He was a cute little guy but lots of bother
They named him George after Susie's father.
Now when they were expecting the one they named Blanche
They had arranged for a lady doctor but she didn't get a chance.
Blanche being aggressive, for a doctor she did not wait
So Henry took care of things before the doctor could get through the gate.
For Gwen, Mary Ann Swensen answered the call.
It's another girl she said and sure is a doll.
Peter Swensen went on a balky horse for the midwife to bring.
She delivered another little girl such a pretty thing.
It was on July the 24th the day was hot enough to burn.
The baby much like a flower, and so they named her Fern.
Susie said, "Cheaper by the dozen."
"I got my hands full but I sure do love'm."
Henry said, "I'd like another son"
But to feed these six keeps me on the run.
So try again they did but to no avail.
Mid-wife Larsen said, "Girl," Dad sure looked pale.
Six girls and only one boy.
You see I was a young Killjoy.
They left Idaho when I was just a little tot
And moved to Smithfield in a house they had got.
They lived in a small log house on top of a hill
But soon moved into another a block north of the mill.
In a different house, on the same spot, they live there still.
On the 17th of March while wearing of the green
Doctor Merrill brought to this home the nicest boy you ever seen.
Dad said, "That Doctor Merrill he knows his stuff."
We'll call on him again, two boys are not enough.
Mother had lots of help by now with Mary and Fay and Blanche.
George and Gwen helped too when ever they would get a chance.
With some at school and some at home and Keith just barely walking
Doctor Merrill said another boy, you keep that cradle rocking.
Because he was what they wanted, just the right kind,
They named the sweet little lad John Hind.
Now Jack started going places pretty young. He was quite a crawler
But when he got his finger in the washer motor oh how he did howler.
And when he fell from Uncle Jim's barn loft on his head
You'd have swore to goodness that sweet lad was dead.
Doctor Merrell was called three times more he brought Dessa, Don and Paul.
That's a dozen now I guess that will be all.
They nursed us through chicken pox,
measles, whopping cough and mumps.
I'll bet there was plenty of times they were really in the dumps.
There was many cases of pneumonia and bad epidemics of flu.
They stuck by both you and I and pulled the dozen thru.
Mothers are the queerest things.
Remember when Paul and Don went away. Oh, how mother cried and cried
When they said good-by that day.
She tried hard to seem not the least bit upset.
Dad was there to comfort her and say, "They'll come back, you bet.
When Don came back again, on a furlough, safe and sound
With a purple heart for his wounds, while the rest of us hurrahed,
Laughed and danced and joked about,
Mother kissed him then she cried and cried like all get out.
Nobody else may care because you have a broken heart.
Nobody else, if you should err, may be inclined to take your part.
But Mom and Dad will know and pray.
That God will take your woes away.
When all fair weather friends forget, when fortune turns and smiles no more
Their faith in you will linger yet, they will be faithful as before.
Nobody else may see your native worth, your nobleness,
Nobody else may know but they what talents you possess.
Though others enviously frown, or slyly seek to drag you down,
They in words and thoughts be true, and with sweet triumph in their breast
Achieve their
rarest blessing through the favors through which you are blessed.
Nobody else may seem to pause if in sin's meshes you are caught
To ask if you had been to blame or seek to rid you of your shame.
But they would still with all their hearts proclaim your innocence and worth.
Oh let us strive to do our part to gladden their choice days on earth.
[1] Transcribed by SusAnn Meikle Clift and sent to Ted Meikle in 2003.
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