Page 14 - Book Eleven Havelock

Page 12 WAGES Written March 10 2010
I􏰀n􏰁􏰂 􏰂here a Bible verse something about a workman being worthy of his hire? I guess I wasn􏰁􏰂 very worthy in some of my early business ad􏰃en􏰂􏰄re􏰀􏰅 I 􏰆a􏰀 paid 􏰂􏰆o cen􏰂􏰀 a bo􏰇 􏰂o pick 􏰀􏰂ra􏰆berrie􏰀 in m􏰈 earlie􏰀􏰂 recollec􏰂ion of being hired􏰅 I􏰂 􏰆a􏰀 a􏰂 a farmer􏰁s patch a half mile or so south of Waterford and I was about 8 or 9 and it was before we moved to Havelock.
My next recollection of wages was about four years later after we came to Havelock. I was awarded the privilege of a paper route in Tren􏰂 Ri􏰃er􏰅 􏰉The Ri􏰃er􏰊􏰋 a􏰀 􏰆e called i􏰂 􏰆a􏰀 abo􏰄􏰂 􏰌􏰍 mile􏰀 􏰀o􏰄􏰂h of Ha􏰃elock􏰅 Tha􏰂 i􏰀􏰋 􏰌1⁄2 miles down on a bicycle and about ten miles back, because it was pretty much downhill to get there and I guess it would be redundant to add it was pretty much all up-hill to get home. The Toron􏰂o S􏰂ar ne􏰆􏰀paper􏰀 􏰆ere deli􏰃ered 􏰂o Nobe􏰀􏰁 ga􏰀 􏰀􏰂a􏰂ion in Havelock􏰁􏰀 ea􏰀􏰂 end which was on DeNure Lines􏰁 bus route. I 􏰆o􏰄ld pack 􏰄p m􏰈 S􏰂ar􏰀 a􏰂 Nobe􏰀􏰁 af􏰂er I 􏰎rolled􏰁 each paper 􏰀o I co􏰄ld fling i􏰂 on􏰂o fron􏰂 porche􏰀 􏰆i􏰂ho􏰄􏰂 di􏰀mo􏰄n􏰂ing from m􏰈 bike􏰅 I can􏰁􏰂 remember ho􏰆 many papers I had on my route but I had a carrier on the front of my bike so even the heavier Saturday Star Weeklys were not too burdensome. As a matter of fact, my load got less and less burdensome as summer went into fall because most of my customers locked up their summer cottages at Trent River and went back to Toronto or 􏰆here􏰃er 􏰂he􏰈 li􏰃ed􏰅 M􏰈 􏰎b􏰄rden􏰁 was reduced to a low of exactly three papers before somebody at The Toronto Star decided the weather was too cold and it was far 􏰂oo dark 􏰂o be deli􏰃ering paper􏰀􏰅 I don􏰁􏰂 􏰂hink I 􏰆a􏰀 􏰀mar􏰂 enough to figure it out myself but they told me I had already delivered papers later in the fall than any previous year.
Wha􏰂 I ha􏰃en􏰁􏰂 􏰂old 􏰈o􏰄 􏰈e􏰂 i􏰀 ho􏰆 m􏰄ch mone􏰈 I 􏰆a􏰀 making near the end. Newspapers sold at 3 cents each in those days and the deli􏰃er􏰈 bo􏰈 reaped a commi􏰀􏰀ion of 􏰏􏰅􏰐 cen􏰂􏰀 per paper 􏰆hich incl􏰄ded collec􏰂ing 􏰂he mone􏰈􏰅 Le􏰂􏰁􏰀 􏰀ee􏰋 􏰑 X 􏰅􏰐 􏰒 􏰌􏰅􏰓 cen􏰂􏰀􏰅 Today I still can􏰁􏰂 belie􏰃e I pedaled a bike o􏰃er 􏰀e􏰃en mile􏰀􏰋 of􏰂en in rain and cold 􏰆ea􏰂her and mo􏰀􏰂l􏰈 in 􏰂he dark af􏰂er da􏰈ligh􏰂 􏰀aving time was o􏰃er􏰅 For 􏰌􏰅􏰓 cen􏰂􏰀􏰔 I􏰂 didn􏰁􏰂 e􏰃en keep me 􏰉off 􏰂he 􏰀􏰂ree􏰂􏰀􏰊 b􏰄􏰂 nobod􏰈 else paid much attention to my business enterprise anyway. I􏰁m sure Dad or any of my brothers and sisters could figure out that it would take a long time at 2.7 cents, six days a week, to accumulate enough money to pay my way through college or to pay my way anywhere. To top that off, I had to share the profits with my brother Vern whenever he helped me.
My faithfulness, although anything but lucrative, did do something good for me. Next year I was awarded a much more sought-after Toronto Star paper route right at home in Havelock. I started out with about 40 customers and worked hard at selling to bring it up to a maximum of 88 before I gave it up to go farming the following summer. Hmmm, @ 0.9cents per paper I must have reached a high of nearly $5.00 dollars weekly 􏰕 and likely spent half on cand􏰈 a􏰂 Bannon􏰁􏰀 􏰀􏰂ore.
My next job of which I clearly remember many details was working all summer at Mr. Bre􏰂hen􏰁􏰀 chicken farm and Ha􏰂cher􏰈 near Norwood. I will tell you about my job in the 􏰎CHICKENS􏰁 story later, but this story is about wages and pay-days. My pay for this first away-from-home job was to be $15.00 per month plus room and board. I managed to lo􏰀e m􏰈 fir􏰀􏰂 mon􏰂h􏰁􏰀 􏰀alar􏰈 􏰀o I ac􏰂􏰄all􏰈 􏰆orked 􏰂􏰆o mon􏰂h􏰀 for the first $15.00. I nervously asked for a raise for the third month. Mr. Brethen rather reluctantly and with a plethora of fine advice about work ethics and such, agreed to give me $20 dollars for each of 􏰂he la􏰀􏰂 􏰂􏰆o mon􏰂h􏰀 I 􏰆orked􏰅 I nearl􏰈 lo􏰀􏰂 m􏰈 final mon􏰂h􏰁􏰀 􏰀alar􏰈 􏰂oo 􏰆hen I lef􏰂 it in my wallet on the train travelling the six miles from Norwood to my home in Havelock. Fortunately the train conductor found the wallet and I got it back a few days later.
He􏰈􏰋 􏰀o􏰄nd􏰀 like I􏰁m no􏰂 􏰃er􏰈 􏰀􏰂e􏰆ardl􏰈 with wages. In fact, just to prove it, I nearly lost my whole $100.00 cheque for my first month teaching. It was 1946 in the month of June, I had just finished my one-year course at Peterborough Normal School and now I was a qualified teacher. School Section #10 Fenelon needed help. It was a one-room rural school near our home, now in Fenelon Falls where we had moved from Havelock. The
teacher had a nervous breakdown, or whatever teachers have near the end of every school year so I was hired for the month of June. After my very last day of teaching, somebody on the school board brought my paycheck to the school. I wearily walked the mile or so back to my boarding house. I was pretty exhausted from my first month of teaching so I lay down on my bed for a nap. When I woke 􏰄p i􏰂 􏰆a􏰀 􏰂ime 􏰂o 􏰀􏰂ar􏰂 packing 􏰂o mo􏰃e o􏰄􏰂􏰅 I didn􏰁􏰂 e􏰃en 􏰂hink abo􏰄􏰂 􏰂he pa􏰈check 􏰄n􏰂il i􏰂 􏰆a􏰀 almo􏰀􏰂 􏰂ime 􏰂o get picked up for my ride home to Fenelon Falls. I forget who was to pick me up but the recollection about the paycheck is very very clear. When the paycheck finally came to my mind I had no idea where my first-ever big paycheck was. I unpacked everything in my bags. No paycheck. I retraced the country road all the way back to the school and looked everywhere in and around the school. No paycheck.
So as not to keep you in suspense and to relieve your mind, and to make a sad story have a happy ending, I did find it. I must have had it in my hand when I lay down for that nap and it had fallen out of my hand. I finally found it in the last place I looked (notice the bit of h􏰄mo􏰄r 􏰂here beca􏰄􏰀e 􏰆e􏰁re all happy now). There it was, back near the wall, under the bed.
So he􏰈 I􏰁m no􏰂 quite so irresponsible as you thought.