Cowboys, Indians and Pony Rides

My brother and I are only 13 months apart so we were constant playmates when we were little.  We always combined playing house with cowboys and Indians.  I'm not sure that we knew there were girl's toys and boy's toys.  We wore cowboy hats and had cap guns and holsters around our waist.  We used big cardboard boxes to make a fort around our "house" which was a card table with a blanket over it that also served as a tepee when we were the Indians.  We would string cord from the banister to the front door knob for our clothesline.  Dolls were our children.  In the winter time, the floor register was our campfire.  It would get pretty hot when my mother would shovel coal into the furnace.  She wasn't real happy when the clay (our food) melted on the floor register.  Oh, and the time we spilt chocolate milk down the register - she wasn't real happy about that either.

So, when the man came around and asked if we wanted our picture taken on the pony, we got so excited.  Now, we didn't have much money and mother didn't splurge on frivolous things too often, but she ended up saying we could.  And, here we are sitting on our pony.  This was taken in 1953 at our house on State Street.  We were full-fledged cowboys and our pony was the most beautiful and best pony in the world!  Sitting on the pony and playing cowboys and Indians with my brother are some of my most wonderful childhood memories.  
So, when did the guy with the pony stop coming around to take a picture of you sitting on the pony?  He was still coming around in the early 1950s when my brother and I were little.  By the 1960s, I don't think he was coming around anymore.  My sister never got her picture taken on the pony.  So, what happened that ended one of the most wonderful memory makers for any city kid?  

Luckily, for our sister, Ann, we had the best rocking chair ever. It was perfect. The arms were the horses. We would sit on them and rock like we were riding - even the end of the arms looked like horses' heads, don't they? The seat was used as a stagecoach. After my sister, Ann, was born, we pretended she was our child and would put her in the 'stagecoach' and take her on our adventures. We made up stories and played for hours. How this chair has held up for 60 years, I have no idea. It is now in my living room - retired. I'm just glad that we were children of the early '50s and didn't miss the man with the pony.

The picture of my brother, Eddie, was taken when we still lived at 839 College with my grandmother just before we moved to the State Street house. Now, why is my brother all happy and smiling and I'm not? He's got the HAT. He always gets the HAT. And, he doesn't even know how to hold a gun..............he still gets the HAT!