The stories today are copied from a column titled "Do You Remember" written by Maud Hatch Benedict, sent to the Springville Herald and published in the very early forties. She grew up in Springville, married and moved to Ogden. Thought they would be fun to share.

It would follow Nellie Starr (who lived with Aunt Sabina and family) to the store. Perking its head one side it hopped along beside Nellie, asking in distinct syllables Nellie! Where are you going, Nellie? Hello, Hello!" And it would call to Burgess, "Hello, Burgess!" We do not remember how long the magpie lived, but feel sure its loss would be mourned.

And dear Aunt Sabina Alleman is remembered among her flowers. Her garden was a mass of bloom from early crocus time to late autumn, when beautiful chrysanthemums flaunted their perfume and color in the frost weather. We remember seeing these blossoms still standing, long after the leaves had frosted and fallen from the stems.

We recalled the gold hoop earrings Aunt Sabina always wore. In those days the ears were pierced for earrings. We do not remember how this was done, but a cork and needle were used. There were no pierce-less earrings then.

We really how sweetly gracious Aunt Sabina was; what pleasure she gave her friends and even all children who stopped at her gate. She told us the names of flowers and shrubs, how to cultivate them, and seasons for planting. She had a "way" with flowers. Every foot of her lot was planted to some lovely growing thing. We wonder how she would feel could she see the spot so long held sacredly as home, now used for a gasoline station!

We confess that when this column started last February, many of the people and things we have written about were but a sub-conscious memory. Strange how the mind retains things of childhood, of which until we concentrated on the past, might never have been thought of again!

Like a panorama before the eyes, the childhood days come, bit by bit. Sometimes totally unrelated subjects follow like caravans in a parade, making an ever changing but colorful mind picture.

If this column is half as interesting to the readers as it is to the writer, it is serving its purpose, and we are grateful for these memories. And now we are remembering some of the English people, friends of our grandmother, Sarah E. Clegg; the dialect, brogue or whatever it was called, of the different Shires of England, like our states, we presume. Grandmother dropped all her "aiches", said "ho" for "oh" and "oh" for "hoe," etc.

One day as a child of nine, we were having a dinner party at the home of Uncle Myron and Aunt Eliza Boyer. She invited guests besides us, and Grandma and Grandpa were an elderly couple of English folk who lived next door. After dinner, as the children sat "being seen and not heard," as was the rule then, we listened to our elders talk.

The dear little English lady from next door was reading an article in a paper and she read of Queen Lillian. Her husband spoke up, "My dear, are you sure it is Queen Lillian?" "Of course it is," she answered, "Ere it is--Hell, Hi, Hell, Hell, Hi, Hay, Hen--Queen Lillian."

And one day Grandma sent our brother, Thea Hatch, to the store. Among articles she asked hime to get was a yard of black "attyelastic!" Poor Thea was sorely puzzled, "Attyelastic!" He repeated. "What is it?" "Just you ask for attyelastic!" said Grandma firmly.

So Thea did, and Mrs. Leiter showed him everything on the shelves, but Thea had to admit nothing there resembled "attyelastic." So back he went without whatever attyelastic was. Grandma was provoked at his stupidity; she brought out her hat, and pointing to the elastic band on it said, "See! This attyelastic!" "Gosh Grandma," said Thea, as he started back to the store, "Why didn't you say you wanted hat lastic?"

And on another day, a memory comes of a Norwegian girl who lived in Springville in the long ago (this is a contribution) but has been gone from there many years. In testimony meeting one day she arose and said, "I know da gospel iss true, but I've been heals myself and see odder peoples heals!"

Thank you Maud for sharing these thoughts of yesteryears. Many stories are yet to come in the Snippits column.

Please share your stories and histories with the Historical Society. Come and visit us at the "old library building" 200 South and Main Street. Open on Mondays 1 to 4 p.m., or call Glenn Alleman, 489-3969; Roger Nielson, 489-5251; or Helen Beardall, 489-6989; or call the office at 491-2076.