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a ---- 125th ANNIVERSARY COMMEMORATIVE ISSUE PORT PERRY STAR - Tuesday, October 1, 1991 - 9 Now suppose for a bit of a change, and also to change the subject, you allow me to take a drive out to Port Perry. Just turn your watch back a week or 80, and you will hit the time near enough. The day is pleasant and the "rig" respectable as a matter of course, being one of Seberts'. Half past 11 a.m., all aboard and away we go. Won't tell you who iness in view of the possibility, nay, probability of an accident here some day. There is a dan- gerous look about is. Owing to the curve in the cutting, we can only see a short distance along the track westward, but here to the east is the big tank, and the station house, a neat and com- modious looking wooden struc- ture. Having not time to go over looked dreamily back on the scene beneath and out on the broad lake bounding the south- ern horizon; and having wan- dered in memory back to other days, and "dragged retreating spectres into light" we must now crack the whip and be off: so here goes. The gradual as- cent has now become a gradual descent. We are on the north- The magnificent St. Charles Hotel pictured soon after being built following the fire in 1884. The building still stands on the south west corner of Water and Queen St. and is now the home of Re/Max Real Estate offices. in addition to "Traveller" consti- tuted the "we." Don't be too in- quisitive. Won't even tell you how many drinks we had on the way. Had a delightful run to Brooklin where we halted and did full justice to an excellent dinner at Henderson's Hotel. That duly over, we pushed for- ward. Found harvesting opera- tions in full blast all along the line. Itis hardly necessary to say the crops in general are heavy, and are well saved. Viewing here and there in the distance the red arms of a reaping machine rising and fall- ing in continued succession, we are reminded of a file of soldiers on the march, but in listening to catch some martial air, given out by the "fife or flute, or trumpet or drum," our ears were greeted by the shrill notes of a steam thresher which was doing its giant deeds at a neighboring barn. As in memory we revert to boyhood's days and listen in- wardly to the thud, thud, thud of the farmer's flail, or look out on the fields of ripe grain and watch the long rows of reapers, sickle in hand, and backs bent to the toil, we cannot be but struck with the vast improvements that have taken place in the fa- cilities for conducting agricultu- ral operations, within so limited a period. And soit is all along the line of labor. Change every- where and change for the better. We passed through the neat little village of Myrtle. We would have liked to call and see our old acquaintances there, shake hands and say "How do you do," but had not time. Here we are at the crossing of the Ontario & Quebec Railway; can't divert ourselves of the ing of uneas-. . and inspect the premises, so we will pushon. Here on our left as we march onward and upward, we get a glimpse of Mud Lake, the source of the water supply for the station; and as we pass the residence of Mr. Thos. Mander- son we almost expect to see him at the front door, telescope in one hand, and calendar in the other, and an Indian hatche slung over his shoulder. He does not appear, so we passon. Here we go up the "Ridges" at the top of which stand the ruins of what was once known as "Covey's Hotel." We turn our heads backwards as we climb the hill in hope of getting a good view of the blue waters of our own broad lake but as the sky has become cloudy, the view is imperfect. We have reached the top of the ridge, and would have a magnificent view if the day were clear. Here is the old ho- tel. We can remember when it was a stopping place of consid- erable importance, but the glo- ry has departed. The kind face of the landlord has disap- peared, and the sweet peas and rare points, rooted in bottles of water that once adorned the walls and windows, and were tended with watchful and lov- ing care by the landlord, in whose heart was a deep love of nature, have all passed away. Their blossoms have withered and their fragrance is gone for- ever. TRAVELLER Port Perry September 12, 1884 Whitby, Sept. 9, 1884. Hav- ing in last letter reached the back bone: of the county -and ern slope of the "Ridges" and a slight change is visible in the shade of the crops that remain uncut. A very short time howev- erifthe weather continues fine, will make a clean sweep of the standing grain except late oats. Here we go past the site of what used to be known as Payne's tavern. The name recalls vivid- ly to mind a fierce and gory set- to which took place in Whitby on the street in front of the site now occupied by D.C. Downey's office, between Mr. Payne and our former town Constable Alex. Cameron, now deceased. This must have been as far back as 1850. Hold on, I believe there is a mistake here. The name was not Payne, but Cliff. There were some rough doings in those days gone by. Bad whisky is just as pernicious in the effects now as then, but the evils resulting from it were more apparent in those days, owing perhaps to a less healthy state of public sentiment, con- sequently less restraint. Here we are at Manches- ter, formerly and still a place of no little importance, owing to its winter grain trade. Here to the east as we enter the village is a plot of ground once owned by out noted townsman and ex- mayor, J. Hamer Greenwood Esq., this being the first piece of real estate ever owned by him. It has passed into other hands now. Here too stands an old frame building pointing back- ward in large and distinct let- ters to the time when R. & J. Campbell made Manchester one of the outposts of their ex- tensive business. Then here on the west is the commodious hotel kept by W. Bennett with good accom- modation for man and beast; and further on is the general store of our friend S. H. Chris- tian Esq., and some other plac- es of business. There are also some fine tasty residences around Manchester that court the admiration of passers by. Get up there. We started out for a run to Port Perry and like an ill trained hound, we are snuff- ing at every hillock, and run- ning after every new scent in- stead of pushing on as we should do. Well here we go again. Pushing through Borelia, once animportant little village in its own right, having a post office all to itself, but now forming the gateway or entrance to Port S.H. CHRISTIAN Perry, we proceed on the down- grade towards what was, and yes, still is the business centre of the village. We dismount and see to the interests of our horse flesh at the foot of the hill after which "traveller" gives his com- panion the slip, and strolls off on his own hook to see and hear what is going on. As I look around my mind reverts to Port Perry as it was and in compari- son the present seems "confu- sion worse confounded." A closer view dispells the first impression however, and as we go from block to block down Queen Street and back again and up and down Perry Please Turn to page 10 Interior of Parrish Hardware Store as it looked in the shirtsleeves beside post, is seen in this excellent large variety of hardware items. early 1900s. Mr. Billy Anderson, in photo in the store which is filled with a