101 Stories

with which I follow the road of the Family for a Century

30. Breaking Mules.

Three miles in horse-and-wagon days was far enough that young families did not see and know each other well, and our grandpas lived three miles apart. So it was that when I was just a boy I visited one winter day at MY Grandma's home, one-half mile north of the Garton home. During the day a strange sight was seen coming down the big hill. Charlie Shepherd was working for Mr. Garton and there were some young mules to be broken to work. There was a deep snow but a road was broken through. Charlie had a span of the young mules hitched to a bobsled and was coming pellmell down the hill at breakneck speed, letting the mules outrun the sled. Behind him was Hamilton, a somewhat older boy than myself, holding on for dear life. My Uncle Hugh told me who they were, and so far as I know, that was the first time I ever saw, to recognize him. the boy who was to become the man who would mean so much to me as friend, then brother and lifelong confidant.

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