There was a homemade wardrobe in my parent's room. I remem¬ ber it because the attic hatch was above it and it did not take us long to learn to climb from the commode at the end of the wardrobe, up on top of it, slide back the hatch and take a peck in the attic. One time we discovered an old violin there. It was in a black case. We enjoyed taking it out, looking at it and pretending to play with it. It was made out of pretty dark red wood but it had a crack at the head of it. I don't know who owned the beautiful instrument originally. My mother thought that if it could be fixed maybe one of us might learn to play it. So my father took it to someone in the city to have it repaired. After waiting a long time to get it back, dad finally brought it home only to discover that it was not the same violin at all. Even as small children we knew very well that it was not the same one. Dad took the violin back and told the repairman that it was not his violin and that he wanted his own back. I guess dad did not have any real proof of the right violin as he was deaf all his life and did not have much interest for music. So we were without a violin. Dad adamantly refused to take the one he was given. I am glad that he did. I presume that when the violin was given to dad, it was in the case and he did not bother to open the case to check, believing it to be the right one. Besides the wardrobe there was a plain wooden bed, a dresser, a trunk and a rocking chair. The bedroom that my sister and I shared was above the dining room. My earliest memories of it were rather resentful as Margaret would usually get sleepy at supper time and be ready to go to bed. She would say in a sleepy and dragging voice, "Put me to bed, put me to bed...". As I was only a year older than she, I was expected to go to bed at the same time which I resented very much because I wasn't sleepy. As soon as Margaret was put in her metal crib, she was gone for the night. On occasion I got out of bed and poked at her through the bars of the crib until she woke up crying. Then I went to the top of the stairs and called out that the baby was crying. This brought someone up to sec why she was crying and it worked in my favor a few times as I was allowed to go downstairs for a while longer. The spare bedroom was over the parlor and was considered as the classy room. There was a nice wooden bed with a decorated headboard and a dresser with a mirror and commode to match. The commode had a large china pitcher and wash basin on top of it. It also had a towel rack and, of course, a chamber pot located at the bottom. There was a small room over the front hall with a narrow bed and a table in it. If someone was not feeling well, he or she liked to be in this room alone. Besides the house, the buildings on the farm included a barn that housed the cattle at one end and the horses at the other. Hay and grain were stored in the centre part of the barn. Here the grain was threshed. I thought that threshing was very exciting. I liked watching my father cut the twine that held the sheaves together and feed the grain into the drum and watching the wheat or oats come out a spout after being separated from the straw. The straw came out the tail of the shakcrand was forked up to the loft where it was stored for later use. The 69