Most of the homes of the people I knew when growing up did not have antiques in them. They just had old furniture. My parents brought a few things with them from Wisconsin: a sideboard, a secretary, my father's chair, the dining room table with all its leaves and chairs and some beds. Many of our neighbors who had arrived from another country did not even have that much. We also had several parlor tables, small tables with legs at an angle. A recent issue of Country Living had one in its "What is it?" column that even had the ball-and-claw feet that I remember.

These pieces of furniture were not of my mother's choosing, and there may have been others that ended on the trash heap as did a large, beautiful oval mirror with an ornate gilt frame. This I wish for periodically, especially when I look at the two round black frames that I rescued from the basement--oh, letÕs call it what it was--the cellar, where they were resting in water that had seeped in during a cloudburst. Yes, about once every hundred years there are cloudbursts even in the Cut Bank area.

I took the frames with me to California and in one of my rare moments of creativity I made molds of the remaining decorative edging. Then I made a flour mixture such as we all made for relief maps in school, filled the molds, and when the goop dried, I removed the pieces and glued them around the edges. I actually did such a good job with the frames that they have survived at least ten moves, and I am surprised with my expertise whenever I look at them. Mom was so amazed that she made two pieces of crewel embroidery to replace the water soaked Rosa Bonheur prints of horses that were in the frames originally.

I also inherited the secretary, refinished beautifully by my nephew, and with its original price of $7.50 clearly written in a drawer. As my niece, Elli, has a copy of an 1897 Sears Roebuck catalogue, I had her check some of the other prices of furniture at that time. A parlor table such as the ones we had cost about $1.30 to $1.50. Dad's chair, which we discovered was an automatic Morris chair, cost between $10.50 and $16.95 depending on the fabric. For those of you who don't know what an automatic Morris chair was--I didn't!!--it was a forerunner of our reclining chairs with a rod across the back that fit into various hooks thereby allowing the back of the chair to tip back at a slant.

Our Morris chair sat at an angle in the corner of the living room with Dad's pipe stand next to it. To me the truly important purpose of this chair and its position in the room was that it created a hiding place for me in which I could listen to the conversation of my elders without being seen. Mrs. Campbell and Mother once had a discussion about my size and my lack of appetite. I should have told them that time would take care of my lack of appetite, if not my height! I was sorely offended to be the subject of their concern, however, though I don't know why.

Furniture styles have changed often in the last fifty years. When we friends, had little or no furniture, and lived in furnished apartments. As we all accumulated our first furniture it fell into two basic styles: Early American or Contemporary. Early American is not around at the moment, but it may return as some of those items that were once classified as Contemporary have. The canvas chairs on an iron frame that were called butterfly chairs have made a rebound, as they are cheap, come in a variety of colors and are surprisingly comfortable. Ours was yellow.

Danish modern arrived on the scene and we liked its clean lines. We still have some pieces. Then people fell in love with genuine antiques. Somewhere along the way we picked up a table or two, a little folding chair and just the other day I realized we have a collection of trunks and chests. We use a carpenter's chest for an end table, Aunt Mattie's Hartmann steamer trunk stands open and is used as a chest for sweaters, Mother's trunk, which she brought with her from Germany, is storage for our CDs, GamomieÕs trunk is a coffee table, a child's trunk is a magazine rack--see how handy trunks and chests can be? And then we have several that I actually put blankets into for storage.

Most of our neighbors had no more furniture, and sometimes even less than we had, when I was little, but one year Dad leased a farm some distance from home, which had a house on it that was quite nicely furnished. The home had belonged to the owner's parents, and he had inherited it from them. I donÕt remember their name, which is just as well as I wouldn't reveal it anyhow, but the son, who was not married, did not want to be a farmer or maybe the acreage was too small to support him, so, as the house was vacant, Mother, my brother Stub and I moved into it while Stub did the farm work.

The house fascinated me as it had furniture in it the like of which I had never seen. The most interesting was what I now know was a Turkish couch, a sort of chaise lounge with a curved back capped with carved wood and upholstered with horsehair, making it slick and ideal for a small child to slide upon. All of this was an adventure for me, and I'm sure Mother enjoyed her few weeks away from caring for the entire family. It must have seemed like a vacation.

The little house had two bedrooms, so Mother slept in one with me and Stub was in the other one. Country nights are quiet, and as there were no animals there, it was especially so, but one night we heard a crash and loud voices. The owner had apparently spent a very merry night in a bar or two and had totally forgotten that he had leased his property to someone. He had stumbled the long way from town or maybe someone had given him a ride, but finding the door locked, he broke in the bedroom window and fell onto the floor next to Stub's bed, frightening us all half to death.

There wasn't much of a scuffle as he was in no condition to put up a fight. When he calmed down, Stub and Mom gathered him up, propped him on the Turkish couch and covered him with a blanket so he could sleep it off. The next morning Mother gave a very chagrined man breakfast and lots of coffee before he ambled off or Stub took him to town, I donÕt remember which.

I somehow doubt that the beautiful Turkish couch, which I think was made for a lady's boudoir or a sitting room, had ever served such a purpose before unless it had once belonged to Miss Kitty in Dodge City.

Turkish couches covered with corduroy fabric were priced between $14.00 and $15.95 in that catalogue. I wonder how much the one with the horsehair cost.