You would hear that call, from all around the block. About this time of the year, almost flag day, we would begin to see horse drawn carts, coming in town from local farmers, clopping down the red brick roads. We knew they would have the freshest of the fresh strawberries,rhubarb, corn, green and red tomatoes,still damp from that morning's dew on them, and lovingly grown and attended, and picked at the peak of perfection that day. The children would spot the horses coming,and get all thrilled to see a horse in town, and run in the house, and mom would grab her change purse,and follow the kids out to flag down the cart. This wasn't hard, because the horses never moved very fast. Most would have just had a quick trot into town, but then were allowed to plod along while the women..(.usually women drove the carts)....from the farm,and the women and kids from town, would haggle over the prices.All the children helped in their own way, anxious to pet and talk to the horse, which would usually slow to a walk, or just stop altogether, and stand there patiently enjoying the gentle affection being lavished upon it by a dozen kids, and swish it's long tail around, and shake it's head to jingle the bells entwined in it's long grizzled mane, to the utter amazement of every onlooker under the age of 15. We didn't know it was to get rid of flies. We thought the horsie was just showing off,and we loved it. While the bartering went on, we saw to the horse's comfort.Bringing it towels to rub on it's neck and sides to dry the sweat, buckets of water to drink,and carrots and sugar cubes to nuzzle out of our hands. Often times, the carrots would be the first thing mom would buy, at the request of the children, just to feed to the horse. Many times, they would be small,stunted, or just baby carrots, picked too soon, just to have a few to sell, but we didn't care, because they were sweet and tender, just the way horses like them, and that's all we wanted.
Sometimes the farm lady would have some fresh eggs,cold bottles of milk or cream, butter, or even chickens to sell too, but it was the produce that caused the most interest, because they had what you couldn't get in the stores yet. Fresh chives, cabbage and lettuce, bell peppers,spring mushrooms, and all manner of berries, and oh the sweet corn, all started in mid winter inside, so they would fetch a good price, early in the season. I can remember going home with a paper sack or a box given us by the cart lady if we bought enough, or if not, my grandmother would have an apron full of produce, and go on and on about the grand dinner we would have that night with what she had been able to get, and for next to nothing! On occasion, she would plan to bake a pie from the peaches or berries she had got. "It's still early to be picking peaches, but in a pie, they will be wonderful!" It was no trick to get children to eat fresh fruit, or even salad then, because it was something they couldn't have all winter. By June, seeing Mother sweating to peel and slice onions and cucumbers into vinegar, and tear lettuce and slice up tomatoes was a desirable thing, and we couldn't wait to taste something sweet and fresh and crunchy that didn't come out of a can or a jar.
Later on, of course, there came less and less horse carts, but the jingle would still come down the street, in the form of a boy on a bicycle, pushing another sort of cart, with a row of bells on the handlebars.All in white. the boy wore white, the cart that he peddled around was white. In the cart, was dry ice, and on top were two little doors. One side had Popsicles,and the other side had crushed, or shaved ice, and paper cones,and lots of flavorings. red, blue and yellow,and purple. I was never sure just what the flavorings were, but I usually picked red...it was either cherry or strawberry, but it really didn't matter. It was cold and sweet,and it only cost a nickle, so who cares what the flavor was? The other side was Popsicles,but they cost a dime, and when I had that much money, I usually went for an orange or root beer Popsicle, if they didn't have any fudgsicles that day. Chocolate was my favorite, so a fudgsicle would be my choice, but they were probably the most popular, because by the time the boy got to our street, he usually was out of them. I know they also carried grape Popsicles, but I never liked grape that much,and my brother would tease me if my face, lips or tongue were purple. I also shied away from red Popsicles, because the teasing was even worse if I was red than purple. Besides that, Grandmother never reacted too much if I came in with orange or brown sticky stuff on me, but would faint dead away if that sticky stuff was red, for some reason. Now, of course, I understand why, but at the time, no one explained it to me...they just attended to the fainter,and then told me in no uncertain terms never to scare my Grandmother that way, ever again! Later,naturally, I figured out on my own that my Grandmother must have thought I was bleeding to death! But, it was a good lesson anyway. I learned, that if I wanted a treat on my way home from school,or while out playing, anything red was not a good choice,and that it was best to wash up before my family saw me.
Fortunately, with age comes wisdom, and now when I hear a jingling and clopping coming down the street,I know it's probably a parade,or a severely disabled car being unced along to the repair shop...or home,but if I hear the music-box tunes coming from a white van, I just send one of my kids out to buy me an ice cream bar....if they can make it from the back yard vegetable garden to the front of the house in time!
OUI?
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