The Old Log School

Gavin Hamilton Green

• Publisher: Natural Heritage
• Year: 1992
• ISBN:
  9781554883417
• Topic: History
• Subtopic: Social History
• Index: History

Gavin Hamilton Green was well-known to Goderich visitors as the "racy, entertaining and genial proprietor" of Ye Olde Curiosity Shoppe. His writings describe the colourful, sometimes wily ways of pioneer history in Colborne Township and Huron County.

Green supplies a large repertoire of witty anecdotes, which together with several illustrations of old-timers and old places, give his book the true atmosphere of the times to which they relate.

The reader is carried from chuckles to tears as events unfold in his witty saga in which he alternates from participant to observer. His "odd expressions and pawky whimsies" are an absolute delight.

Sketches Of Pioneer Days

Notice to Dust Kickers Who Visit This Old Curiosity Shop

WHY, yes, I know that everything in this old shop is covered with dust. Were not your ancestors manufactured from dust? You have no proof to offer that will hold water that the dust you are kicking about is not the dust of your ancestors, a King, Queen, a Caesar, Cleopatra, or a Huron Old Boy. For are we not told upon good authority that unto dust thou must return? Scientific writers assert that since the beginning of time the number of persons born upon the earth is 9,768,479,864,798,437,697,481,798,432,769,456. Divide this by the number of square miles of land upon the earth and you will see 1,927 persons lie buried in one square rod. So you will see this old earth has been dug over 128 times to bury its dead. So you may see by putting on your specs and figuring our dust question by the rule of three that the dust of your own sweet self some day in the future may decorate some ladies’ chamber furniture, or some old tea kettle in some old junk shop, or be beaten out of some old rag carpet to drift around upon the highway of time, until you are overtaken by the water wagon of heaven and turned into mud, then back to the land you go again as dirt to grow turnips, carrots, potatoes and spinach to help feed posterity. Lastly, but not leastly, you will be turned into gold dust, then into dollars to pay the butcher and the baker, the fiddler and the preacher, the doctor and the lawyer; and if you escape from the lawyer and the gold standard, you will be used to pay the war debt.

This is very sincerely for you,

G. H. GREEN,
April, 1932.
Goderich, Ontario.

OPENING THE DOORS of Ye Olde Curiosity Shoppe for the first time in 1902 was an exciting event for Green and the townsfolk who soon gathered on the storefront boardwalk to visit and share tales. The shop is shown here in its first year of operation.
With Aggie in the doorway and Gavin standing proudly on the far right side, they visited with the young barefoot boy, Fred and his father John Robertson; Albert Paltridge; Dugald Morris; Harold Warrener, by the post; and, Michael Ohler, sitting next to Green.

The Old Sheppardton Church

FIFTY years ago, in the gay eighties, this town of Sheppardton could boast of four business places: R. T. Haynes, general store and post office; William Bennett, general store; Frank Hathaway, blacksmith shop; and the Royal Oak hotel, kept by George Hilton. Two private dwelling houses, Randal Graham’s and Richard Bennett’s, were in the town limits. The suburbs – why, yes, the old town had its suburbs. To the west was the Orange Hall, with a large membership in those days, where the Gunpowder Plot was celebrated every 5th of November with an old-time dance, Billy McPhee and George Armstrong being the fiddlers. To the east of the town, up the boundary, were the school house, George Burrows’ farm, and Morrish’s saw-mill, also a blacksmith shop and a general store belonging to the Morrish mill, this eastern suburb in those days having a larger population than the town proper. Some of the families of those days were the Campbells, Bennetts, Burrows’, Hawkins’, Postelethwaites, Morrishs, Fishers, Vanstones, Greens, Simpsons and Fosters. John Walters, late of Saltford, was book-keeper and clerk in the store. Bobby McDonald, of Dunlop, was lumber and log scaler. Paul Morrish was the blacksmith. This was the extent of the town and its suburbs in 1880, when the last of the old landmarks was built – the Methodist church.

The Rev. Luther Rice, preacher of the Nile circuit, was the “father” of the church building. Along with him were Thomas Graham, James Graham, John Echlin, John Morrish, Frank Hathaway, and many others. Charles Hawkins was contractor for the building, George and Thomas Christilaw were carpenters, William Garside, of Goderich, was the painter, and the plastering, I believe, was done by John Sproul. The Rev. Luther Rice was the first preacher; John Echlin and Frank Hathaway were the first superintendent and teacher of the Sunday school. Also there were two young circuit riders who officiated at times. One of these was the Rev. J. T. Legear. I remember he travelled on horseback. Afterwards he married a daughter of David Fisher, and later moved to the State of Michigan. The other young preacher, the Rev. Mr. Foxen, also moved to Michigan. In addition, many local preachers in the early eighties used to expound the Scriptures to the natives. There were Charles Girvin, Joseph Hetherington, William Pellow, John Washington and others.

I believe all those so far mentioned have passed to their reward in that land that is fairer than day, with the exception of Robert McDonald, of Dunlop. John Morrish, the one-time mill-owner, died at the home of his son in the State of Dakota at the age of ninety.

Now to the passing of the old church, the last landmark of those bygone days, which was sold by auction on May 16th, 1932. For over fifty years it had served as a place of worship for the natives, and many of their children who went out into the world to do battle for a livelihood got their religious training within its walls.

As I journeyed out from Goderich to the auction sale, to see the last of the old landmarks of my old home town pass into other hands, a feeling of sadness crept over me. The clouds were heavy, with rain threatening, and quite a crowd of the natives and others had gathered to see the old church go under the auctioneer’s hammer. We all went inside the church. The people seemed to feel they were in a church, as in days gone by, as there was a sense of reverence, as well as sadness, in the air, and Auctioneer Gundry, with all his tact, could not raise so much as a smile upon the faces of the gathering. The sale started. The two pulpit lamps were knocked down to yours truly for one dollar. As they had served their day in lighting the pulpit for the preachers at their evening services, I left one with one of the old Sunday school teachers; the other I will keep myself as a remembrance of the old church.

THE OLD SHEPPARDTON METHODIST CHURCH (C. 1880s) “where both saints and sinners went to worship: was sold by auction in 1932. Many of its contents dated back to 1856 and were removed from the Methodist New Connexion (sic) Church of Goderich when it was closed in 1878 to amalgamate with North Street United.

The old pulpit next. I bid fifty cents. Albert Goldthorpe, Reeve of Colborne, raised the bid to one dollar. So the old pulpit went to the Reeve of Colborne. I had intended to buy it, but I thought if there was any virtue in the old pulpit they needed it in Colborne council chamber worse than I needed it in Goderich as a relic; so I let the Reeve of Colborne have it at his bid of one dollar. Who knows but it may still carry with it a spirit that may influence the Council and the taxpayers of Colborne to pay due respect and honor to the Reeve as he holds forth from behind it? Who knows but the spirit of some of the old divines may inspire the Reeve of Colborne to expound the Scriptures to the Council and taxpayers, with such texts as “Blessed are the peacemakers,” or “Render unto Caesar that which is Caesar’s.” For the old pulpit came originally to the old church from the Methodist New Connexion church of Goderich, built in 1856, which is now part of the old Doty Engine Works building. So we may see what influence the old pulpit may have in the council chamber of Colborne township.

The old pulpit railing, or communion railing, was knocked down to James Reynolds of the county jail for one dollar. There must have been some influence in the air to prompt a good Catholic like Jailer Reynolds to buy the communion railing out of a Methodist church. Perhaps it still has some virtue and may still do some good in the county jail. It also is a relic of the old Methodist new Connexion church, and at its railing many a sinner sought forgiveness of his sins.

The old organ that used to peal out its sacred melodies was sold for $6 to Thomas Dougherty, one of the original natives. It has gone to a good Anglican home after cheering the hearts of old and young with sacred music for many years. The pews (except some sold to Jailer Reynolds) went to Mr. Fry, of Detroit, who has a summer cottage on the bank of Lake Huron at Menesetung Park. Many a handsome girl, many aged fathers and mothers, as well as some bad boys, have sat in those pews since 1856, as the pews, in addition to the pulpit and the communion railing, came from the Methodist New Connexion church. May they be put to good use in their declining years, and may much joy and comfort come to those who occupy them in days to come. They are a very poor set of pews to sleep in – too straight in the back. I know, for I tried them out when I was a boy.

The old church building was knocked down to Mr. Fry for $150. I believe he will use the lumber to build summer cottages on the lake bank for his children and grandchildren. He will find the lumber first-class, for as boys my brother David and I helped our father to saw the lumber at the Morrish mill. We were only boys then, my brother and I, but we had to work for a living in our boyhood days. So you see I have a kind of reverence for the hemlock lumber in the old church, and may the use Mr. Fry puts it to bring him peace and prosperity, and may he enjoy his houses for many years.

The old church had many scenes, some sad, some joyous, within its walls in the old days. When the death angel came for a member of the congregation the pastor always preached a funeral sermon. This was always a very sad occasion to us boys and girls in our teens. Then there would be the revival meetings, when many of the old patriarchs from miles around would endeavour to convince the sinners to seek repentance of their sins. There were some fine men among these exhorters, such as Joseph Hetherington, John Echlin, Thomas Stuart, and others. They had some quaint and homely sayings, but their discourses were honest and sincere. I honor their memories more as I grow older, and many a boy and girl went out into the world from those revival meetings with a new vision of heaven.

Then the old-fashioned tea-meeting. I remember the one at the church opening. The boys starved all day so they could get the worth of their twenty-five cents in pie and cake, which were luxuries in those days. The motto was, Eat all you can, then fill your pockets to eat on the way home or take to school next day. Then the next night there was a ten-cent social to eat the fragments – which was the best of all for us boys. At this tea-meeting and church opening I was one of the boys chosen by the committee to act as one of the waiters. I was an overgrown country gawk, and, having been brought up on the Shorter Catechism and oatmeal, or, in other words, being of the Presbyterian persuasion, I regarded it as a great honor to be invited to be a waiter at the opening of the new Methodist church. Well, I strutted up the boundary to the suburbs at Morrish’s mills feeling like a young rooster wearing his first tail feathers. I had quite a time finding a girl partner; I asked three before I was accepted. However, I got through my first public function as a waiter at a tea-meeting, and strutted home with my tail feathers still in the air. Miss Emily Johnston, of Goderich township, was the school teacher at Sheppardton. At the tea-meeting she recited “Curfew Shall Not Ring Tonight,” and the applause she got made the lumber in the old church ring. She afterwards married John B. Graham, and they are the parents of Dr. Meredith Graham, of Goderich.

As I cast my eyes over the crowd at the sale I saw very few of the old boys who went barefooted to school at the time the old church was built. There were Thomas Dougherty, John B. Graham, Nelson Graham, William Hawkins, John Foster, William Johnston, Angus Gordon, my brother David and I. Chief Postelethwaite and Joseph Wilson of Goderich were others of those barefoot boys of the time of which I write, but they were not at the sale.

I have a very warm spot in my heart for the old home town, the old church, the old preachers, and the old local preachers, the old Sunday school teachers, and for the old inhabitants of the old town and its suburbs. For the natives who worshipped in the old church and who have passed on to the better land I have a reverence and sweet memories of them as I knew them in the long ago. To those who worshipped in the old church and who are still upon this earthly highway, and, like myself, nearing their journey’s end, I would say, May the good influences that came into their lives from the old church and its preachers and teachers follow them to the end of their journey. If they see this scribble and it awakens any sweet memories in their souls, I shall feel that I have not scribbled in vain.

For myself, I was brought up a Presbyterian and when a boy went to St. Andrew’s church at Port Albert. In the good old days of which I write the Anglicans, Presbyterians, and Methodists lived in harmony and the natives patronized all the churches. The boys generally went to the church where there were the most pretty girls. For instance, in the old Methodist church were Lena Graham (afterwards Mrs. Judge Johnston), Lily Morrish, daughter of John Morrish (now Mrs. Smith, of New York City), and Ada Haynes, who married Henry Echlin.

Now, if you travel northward along the Blue Water Highway and go through the old town of Sheppardton after the church is wrecked, the only one of the original buildings you will see is the old blacksmith shop. The building on the corner where the old hotel used to stand was moved there a few years ago from a farm, after the old hotel was burned down. The suburbs, with their population, also passed away years ago.

I forgot to mention that one of the fair maidens of the old town eloped and married a young farmer from the Nile on the night of the opening tea-meeting in the church. She was handsome – and just sweet sixteen. So you see the old town had its romances in those days.

The Old Sheppardton Church in New Setting

THE old Methodist church that once graced my old home town of Sheppardton seems to be still upon the map of the county of Huron. A pilgrim from New York City, a native of Goderich, having read in his old home town paper the account of the sale of the old church, and having a boyhood recollection of the old church, built in 1856, was anxious to see, before returning to New York, what Mr. Fry was making out of the material of the old church building. So he got a friend to drive him and his wife out to Mr. Fry’s and on his return called at my Old Curiosity Shop and told me that Mr. Fry was doing wonders with the old material. He advised me to go out and see for myself. So I broke one Sabbath morning in June and went out to view the beauties of Menesetung Park and see Mr. Fry’s cottages on the banks of Lake Huron.

As I neared the lake bank I beheld a building that was a cross between a chapel and a bungalow. The siding on the “new” building had graced the old church at Sheppardton – the same old siding remembered from days when we boys who thought we were too big and important to go into the Sunday school would hang around outside the church until the small boys and the “goody-goody” boys came out. We worked crossword puzzles upon the old siding, writing our name and beneath it our best girl’s name, then crossing out the corresponding letters to see if it came out odd or even. If odd, she would not marry us; if even, she would. Some of the bolder bad boys wrote letters and drew pictures on the same old siding.

As I neared the building I noticed the old windows through which the bad boys used to make faces at the good little boys in Sunday school. These were performances of the long, long ago, but I seem to be a boy again as these scenes pass before my eyes. But alas! All is vanity and vexation of spirit. The preacher discovered that frosting the windows prevented the bad boys from looking in to see if their best girls were there without going in themselves, and the result was more coppers on the collection plate. It also stopped the good men and women, the boys and girls from looking out through the windows to see who was going up or down the boundary road while the sermon was being preached. This was the preacher’s innings, and he scored. I see the same old frosting on th...

Table of contents

• Cover
• Title
• Copyright
• Contents
• Acknowledgements
• Introduction
• Building of the Old Log School
• Reunion of S.S. No. 5
• In the Days of the Old Log School
• Sketches of Pioneer Days
• Biographical profile
• Site reference
• Glossary