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CASTOR REVIEW Friday, November 17,1978 Page7 The General Store Ed. Note: The following poem is the work of Douglas Alken- brack, MP, Frontenac, Lennox and Addington. Mr. Alken- brack wrote the poem some years ago and having quoted some of the lines to us recently, kindly gave us permission to bring the entire work before the readers of the Castor Review. This we do with pleasure, not only because the author is a respected Member of the House of Commons but also because the literary quality of this evocative poem, the nostalgic memories it will recall for some of our readers, raise it to the rank of the best verse descriptions of rural living half a century ago. Illustrations are by Shirley Van Dusen. I remember the grand old general store, With the little bell hung above the door That tinkled, when customers came, And its white pine walls, and the shelves piled high With goods that the back-woods cames to buy, Of every need and name. 'Twas a wondrous place for a boy to be, With its air of plenty, and bonhomie, Ican see the pine floors sag With barrels of salt, and vinegar sour, And biscuits, brown sugar, and country flour With a reindeer on the bag. High over my head 'neath the timbers bare, Bright kettles of tin and of agate ware On hooks from the ceiling swing, And with lustrous shades of mother-of-pearl That were shone each day by the hired girl, Two rows of oil lamps hung. There were wash-tubs, scrub-boards and shiny pails, And harness and bridles and martingales, And sleigh-bells of musical sound, While there at the touch of my finger tips A circled selection of buggy-whips Turned jauntily round and round. There were redolent chests of good green tea That were lined with lead, and I always will see Their strange, exotic brand, The beautiful Japanese dancing girl, Her flowery kimono all awhirl Anda bamboo fan in her hand. What cordial odours a boy could imbibe! A blend of aromas I n'er can describe Of spices, harness and soap, Of coffee and candy, tobaccos and teas, Good-natured butter and sharp-tempered cheese, Bananas, oranges and rope. There were dash-board lanterns and barrel churns, And wallpaper festooned with waving ferns, Horse-collars and lantern globes. There was iron-stone china all packed in straw, And lumbermen's jumpers of mackinaw, Foot-warmers and buffalo robes. Ona special stand ina prominent place, A magnet of elegance, fragrance and grace, In the mould of a Grecian urn, Stood the coffee mill with its bright red wheels Like a pair of great fire engine reels That I always loved to turn. And the wild-goose telephone on the wall, Often indisposed when you tried to call, What a sickly life it led! For its jumbled signals were seldom clear, And its languid moans filled the listener's ear, With the voices of the dead. I remember the canthooks and logging chain, The shovels and axes, and bags of grain Out back in the storage shed, The wool in the fleece, and the beaver skins That hung with the snow-shoes and mocassins From the rafters overhead. Here, every night when the work was done The fiction flew as the smokers spun Their yarns from an endless batch, And to trim each tale that they amplified Their fibbing they frequently purified In fumes from the sulphur match. An ornate cabinet of oak and glass, A shrine that the ladies would never pass, Held the village vanities, And featured the hair-nets and ostrich plumes Silk ribbons and broaches and sly perfumes For feminine toiletries. Sharp in the picture my memory sees Neath a labelled column of remedies, Sure cures for croup, or a cough, The tobacco cutter, a fierce machine, And the dark stained blade of its guillotine That could cut your fingers off. And purposely placed ona higher shelf, Incessantly saying, "come help yourself"', With lots of candy in each, Those big glass jars with their polished tops Held the big jaw-breakers and lollypops Just out of a little boy's reach. 'Twas a lively place when the stage rolled in With freight and passengers, bustle and din, The horses sweating and tired. There were dapper travelers in tailored suits, With their stand-up collars and buttoned boots, Whom we envied and admired. I can see the driver, who handled the freight, Each bale and carton and barrel and crate With care, to let nothing fall, And the special item of all his cares, Which he carried straight to the cellar stairs, The shipment from Montreal! What a pleasant place ona winter night, By the friendly stove neath the soft lamp-light, Oh, the time would never lag! For the air was blue with the late John A., Or the noble merits of Laurier, And the smoke, and the smell of shag. It might be a story of Vimy Ridge, Or the giant log jam at Bryder's bridge, That a boy would hear with dread, Or a thrilling tale of the lumber camps That would last till the coal-oil in the lamps Burned low in the bowls overhead. Do you have a place on memory's shelf That is stocked with the spices of life itself, A place where you go to find, Those old vignettes of a vanished past That hangs in the shades of a storehouse vast, From the rafters of the mind? If you offered a fortune in shining gold For this common stock that my memories hold Including the world to boot, I would never trade, for my dreams remain With the boy, who is ever a boy again In the village on the "Skoot". WARNER FUNERAL HOME Funeral Director: Danny Lafleur 445-2830 132 Castor Street E. A. Campbell Electrical -- Heating Plumbing Contractor (DON'T GAMBOL SEE CAMPBELL) Russell 445-2167 Moose challenge Shooting a moose during the Larose Forest controlled hunt is more of a challenge than most participants probably realize. While the impression is wide- spread the Larose herd numbers 150 animals, there's actually only about 35 moose ranging in the 25,000-acres of bush, a Ministry of Natural Resources spokesman told the Castor Review. There are another 115-odd moose living in Alfred Bog, but it's off-limits during the hunt, the spokesman said. The hunt, which began Monday of this week, has been more popular than anyone would have guessed. During the first three days, more than 2,000 hopeful hunters registered, hoping to be among the 30 names drawn each morning. Each person selected is allowed to chose a partner. By Wednesday, seven animals had been taken with a maximum of 20 to be shot before the hunt is terminated. Even if the limit has not been reached, the hunt ends this Sunday. Although managed by Natural Resources, Larose is owned by the United Counties of Prescott- Russell. The hunt was scheduled after it was determined the Larose herd is growing too large for the existing habitat. fo fF ee Seno The Light Kenmore and Russell Baptist Churches Minister: Rev. James Paul, Ph. 821-2144 Kenmore -- Sunday School, 10:15 a.m.; Morning Worship Service, 11:15a.m. hs, Russell Evening Fellowship, 7:30 p.m. Nov. 19 -- Leo Lafrance's residence, Vars. Nov. 26 -- Al Staniforth's res., Forest Park. Dec. 3-- Walter Lechmann's res., Casselman. Dec. 10 -- John Bailey's res., George St. BEWARE OF BREAKINS -- (Continued from Page 1) 11, concession 4, Russell (east of Russell on the Embrun road), in broad daylight. The thieves entered through a basement window. No arrests have been made. In a second breakin, more than $1,000 worth of goods, including a TV, amplifier, clock radio and stereo speakers, was stolen from the home of Gertrude Millaire, lot 9, concession 3, south of Russell. Daughter Claudette dis- covered the breakin Nov. 12 about 1:30 a.m. when she found the front door ajar and a window broken. No arrests. Meanwhile, three Embrun area men have pleaded guilty to charges in connection with relat- ed breakins at the Russell and Crysler arenas and the $125,000 fire at the Knights of Columbus hall in Embrun in October. Roger Lauzon, Raymond Rochefort and Carol Lamade- leine, all in their early 20's and all originally from the Embrun area, will appear in provincial court, Dec. 7 for sentencing. The Knights of Columbus hall was destroyed by fire the night of the breakin there. A total of several thousand dollars in goods was taken from the arenas.