Stories
 

Stories
 
Outhouses sure brings back the memories. Memories of a winter spent in Valleyview Alberta about the late nineties, when the mercury just buried itself in the bottom of the bowl, it must have been way below 50. The only accomodation for natures call was a outhouse about 100 yards from the house. Boy was that a experience to remember. Also in my memory is the fact that we lived in co-existance with the outhouse for the first 12 years of my life. It was quite a experience when my sister lost her favorite rubber "oh larie oh" ball down the old 2 holer, and the hazardous rescue operation of lowering fat Jules down into that hole to recover the ball.
 

The Outhouse and Us

-- by Stan Paregien, Sr. -- Copyright 1996 --

I'll never forget the Halloween of 1956
That's when the Jones boys and me got into a fix.
It's not that we were outlaws, don't you see?
We just found the curse of Washington's cherry tree.

Bueford and Marvin and I decided to have some fun.
So we slipped over to the Palmer place, 'bout half-past one.
The yellow Halloween moon shone brightly in the sky.
When we turned their outhouse over, quietly on the sly.

When pa asked me about it, I said:"I cannot tell a lie.
"I helped push the Palmer's outhouse over "and took off on the fly."
"Bend over, boy," pa said, taking that big razor strap down.
"Time for you to learn that on such foolishness I frown."

"But pa," says I with tears falling down like summer rain,
"When George Washington told the truth, his father inflicted no pain."
"You and George both told the truth," pa said, "On that I agree."
"But when George did his hatchet job, his neighbor wasn't in the tree."




The Outhouse
by John Hill


When I was a young man, away back when
We had things that you don't know about...then.
An outhouse was something you couldn't do without
Each home had one near about.
This was a little wooden house down a path..out back.
The door was kept closed by a latch, held with a tack.
Here let say, if the door was closed
It was for how long, nobody knows.
This house was referred to as a two holer or one holer
Which meant that there were two or one hole cut in the seat
No place could be any hotter, or colder, and it wasn't too neat
When the snow was on the ground and frost on the seat
And in the night you heard the sound of hurried feet
You're thankful, it's not you that has to hurry
If so, down the path you go icy cold...vision blurry.
It doesn't take long (when turned to the North star)
To realize just where you are.
On the seat was a catalog with pages turned down
From this, you took a page with a frown
You took care of the paper work, then up, and on your way
It didn't take long to get back in bed, you hope to stay.
You really don't realize what an experience this can be,
Unless, you could have been there with me.
Well, I guess we had to have this, so that,
We can appreciate today, knowing where we use to sat.
(Copyright 1997)

THE OUTHOUSE POEM
The service station trade was slow
The owner sat around,
With sharpened knife and cedar stick
Piled shavings on the ground.
No modern facilities had they,
The log across the rill
Led to a shack,marked His and Hers
That sat against the hill.
"Where is the ladies restroom, sir?"
The owner leaning back,
Said not a word but whittled on,
And nodded toward the shack.
With quickened step she entered there
But only stayed a minute,
Until she screamed,just like a snake
Or spider might be in it.
With startled look and beet red face
Just like three gals before.
She missed the foot log - jumped the stream
The owner gave a shout,
As her silk stockings, down at her knees
Caught on a sassafras sprout.
She tripped and fell - got up,
and then In obvious disgust,
Ran to the car, stepped on the gas,
And faded in the dust.

Of course we all desired to know
What made the gals all do
The things they did,and then we found
The whittling owner knew.

A speaking system he'd devised
To make the thing complete,
He tied a speaker on the wall
Beneath the toilet seat.

He'd wait until the gals got set
And then the devilish tike,
Would stop his whittling long enough,
To speak into the mike.

And as she sat, a voice below
Struck terror, fright and fear,
"Will you please use the other hole,
We're painting under here!"