Chapter 7

I had made a little stop in a local period shop back in my when, while I was hopping around before I had come back to the mining town. I bought presents for Arthur, his wife and family, also for the lady who did the baking.

I wanted a couple pies, and what better way to bribe that woman than with baking soda and baking powder? I did have a crate set aside for her though, filled with sugar, molasses, brown sugar, pounds and pounds of butter, and eggs. Eggs were scarce in town. Nothing like getting on the bakers good side. I told her the eggs were about 7 to 10 days old, but should be good still. She was ecstatic.

I was going to have supper with the Bannermans later that evening, so I made my way with a couple guys to the baker, Ms. Virginia Fletcher. She was amazed at what I had brought with me. The crate of apples and oranges, and a large carton of cherries I was using to bribe her, set her mouth to watering. We agreed on a reasonable price for these extra supplies. She also promised to make me one apple pie, one peach cobbler the next day, with one cherry pie to be made right away.

When I got there, she was making Soda bread. That was a leavened bread. It was easy to make, but it didn't keep long. The Irish had popularized it some time ago. In this town, food went fast. She sold as much of that as she could. Her main problem was, she had more customers than she knew what to do with, and her oven way to small to do the job right. Still, heavenly aromas always came from around her place.

She had taken on two helpers, and she started cooking operations twenty-four hours a day. A lady whose husband was out prospecting had been looking for work, and was almost as good a baker as Ms. Fletcher was. The other was a man who helped keep the oven fire burning evenly. He also helped with food preparation. The second lady worked through the night hours. She kept busy making loaves of bread for the morning purchase rush.

Later that day I made my way, a bit earlier than usual, with another crate I had set aside as a gift for Arthur and his family. I went into his office. The small potbelly stove was doing its best to warm the place against the chill of the season. It was definitely getting colder. The weather didn't look too good, either. Clouds were rolling in. They looked threatening, to me. It would either rain or snow, and very soon.

"Ben, you're early," Arthur said by way of welcome.

"I come bearing gifts for you and your family. Since I have no family, I thought might as well use you and yours as a surrogate," I replied, smiling.

He raised his eyebrows at me. I hesitated. I didn't want to offend him. Come to think of it, he might take my interest in his family the wrong way.

"I hope you're not offended. I mean, you and your family are the closest friends I have here, and I just want to give a few presents," I said in way of explanation.

He nodded and smiled. I felt relief wash through me. The guy I had hired to carry the crate, came in behind me, and asked where I wanted it. I pointed at Arthur's desk. He set it down and left. I had already paid him for the errand.

"And what's this?" Arthur asked curiously.

"Something for the entire family. All useful items," I said smugly.

He closed his office a bit early, and we went through a door at the back of his office and into his living portion proper. They had an actual wood-burning stove with oven. The first time I had seen it, I had asked how he got 'that thing', here. He said they had brought it in from 'Trail Start', in a two-wheeled cart. Not an easy thing to do.

"A wagon would never have made it through, as it was, the cart had a lot of trouble and it took several men pushing and lifting to get it through," Arthur mused thoughtfully.

As soon as we came in, his wife and children looked up. She was at the stove. The kids were at the table, which placed close to the fireplace for warmth.

"Beth, Ruth, Samuel, clear that table. Ben has come bearing gifts, and he even won't tell me what's in this crate of his," Arthur said.

Less than a minute later, with the table now cleared off, Arthur set the crate down and went to find something to pry the lid off. Shortly the top was off, and the first thing in there was newspapers and do it yourself magazines of the time.

I took those out and passed them to Arthur. Next was a flat tissue wrapped package with ribbons in it for the ladies of the house. Everyone oo'd and ah'd over those. I took out the next section of packing material, straw.

The books were by Mark Twain and Charles Dickens. Besides the newspapers, periodicals such as Saturday Evening Post and Harper's magazines were also included. The adult's eyes lit up, but the kids looked less than enthusiastic. I grinned at them. I took out two paper brown bags and handed them to the kids. Inside was penny candy, a whole lot. Their eyes lit up like it was Christmas.

"I'll take charge of those," Beth said in a no nonsense tone of voice. Cowed, the kids passed over their treasures, with looks of longing in their eyes.

A can of pipe tobacco followed, which I knew Arthur would enjoy. He was most appreciative, as any tobacco was scarce, here. He rationed out his own supply, tightly.

Finally, at the bottom were, a twenty-pound sack of flour, a ten-pound bag of sugar, and a few small tins of baking soda and baking powder. It was roughly the same stuff I had given the baker, but in smaller quantities.

"I have one more gift," I said after they had put everything away. Everyone looked curious.

"I found a group that has come up with the perfect solution for hair care. It is called 'shampoo', and it is for cleaning hair," I said, pulling the tightly sealed jar of herbal Essence from my coat pocket.

"It is very concentrated. It should last you a good long while. I have been using it myself, and it does no harm to your hair. It cleans wonderfully, and smells good. Just a very little goes a long way. You might have to repeat the washing initially, but after you clean your hair thoroughly, it will be easy to maintain it that way," I said.

The problem with this time and place, was that there was little in the way of sanitation facilities. During the cold winters, a bath was a 'rare if ever' event. While I understood this, the resulting stink of unwashed human bodies and clothes, could be overwhelming.

Supper was excellent that evening. The company was good, and I felt comfortably stuffed. I had just eaten three ears of corn along with a good-sized portion of fish. Of course, the ever-present potatoes were alongside. I decided I was going to cook these people a good meal and include all the 'sides' I had been missing, as they had to be missing.

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