Mrs Clement resembled Dresden china.  She was a delicate, refined little lady who walked around town in her elegant attire with quite dignity.  Here voice was a gentle lady's voice.  Here lace collars was held upright by the little bone stays at her neck.

Vergie, however, was the opposite of here sister.  She was short and stocky and walked with long, vigorous strides.  As she briskly strode down the street, her constant clear, lusty whistling could be heard for a block.

The girl's home was furnished with family heirlooms worth a fortune, but to them the furniture and accessories were merely their way of life.  The barn in the rear of the property was contemporary  with the house.  It looked the same as it must have back in the horse and buggy days.  It transported one back 100 years.  The empty stalls for the horses were there as though the occupants were out to pasture.  Harnesses were hanging on wall pegs, and the collars were there on the hooks ready for use.  There were several cats in residence and one was named Billy The Kid after the old outlaw of the West.  Mrs Clement often told how she once saw him.

There was also a flock of guinea hens and every one had been given a name.  They had full access to the house and perched in the dining room on the furniture.  Well remembered was the string of hens in single file walking down the middle of the pavement in front of the old house there on Warwick road.

Vergie and Helen (Mrs Clement) were always dressed for riding their horses, with split leather riding skirts and leather jackets.  Younger old-timers told how the sisters would put out one hand on the top rail of the fence to vault over when they were going over to Schlecht's Bakery for pastries.

The fence then surrounded the field that was between Warwick road and the railroad.  It is now the site of the Methodist Church.  Its is difficult to imagine Mrs Clement jumping over a split rail fence. Vergie, yes.

Once every week, Vergie bought a 25-cent package of White Owl Cigars in a newspaper store down on the highway.  The clerks always presumed that they were for her hired man.  One day, however, Vergie inadvertently let it be known that she smoked half a cigar every evening before retiring.

Mrs Clement often related how on her honeymoon she well remembered sailing down the Rhine River in Germany sipping wine that had been made from grapes that had been made from grapes grown in the vineyards along the shores that the boat was passing.

Thinking of Mrs Clement and Vergie Garrett and of their lives as they passed through the years here in town, brings to mind how the two of them added flavor to Haddonfield's always interesting past.