I'd been asking for a .22 rifle for a couple of years, but no luck. On the morning of my 10th Christmas, I awoke to a cold, snowy day. My sister, brother and I were up bright and early as usual, in anticipation of opening our new treasures. We usually got things like a new pair of warm gloves, a stocking cap and a couple of nice toys. My brother and I were into farm toys and we usually got a Farmall tractor or something along those lines.
That year I can truthfully say I have no idea what I got except for what was in my last package. It was in a very large box - the kind that a file cabinet might come in. I was really interested because it was such a big package, but a little disapointed because I knew another Christmas was going to go by and I would still be gunless. I opened the box and to my great surprise, inside I found a cardboard box marked Winchester. Trembling in anticipation, I opened the box. It contained the most beautiful gun I had ever seen. It was a brand new Winchester Model 67A single shot .22. The stock was real walnut and the blueing was a sight for sore eyes. (Especially for a rifle that sold for a $21.00.)
I was in awe of this fine weapon. Instantly I had visions of hunting such dangerous game as cottontail rabbits and fox squirrels. I was so excited I couldn't wait to try it out. Unfortunately, it was not soon to be. First it was the Christmas package cleanup chore, then the farm chores - feeding and watering the chickens and the sheep. After that we all had to sit down to a nice breakfast in the dining room. (A special treat that only happened on holidays or when company was there. The rest of the time we ate in the kitchen.)
Finally, after what seemed like hours of agonizing delays, my Dad said, "OK Tom - let's take your new rifle out to the barn yard." When we got there he gave me a serious lecture on gun safety, showed me how the gun worked and handed it to me, along with a box of .22 shorts. With trembling hands, I loaded the gun, took aim at a tin can, squeezed the trigger like I had practiced with my Daisy Red Rider and low and behold - I hit the darn thing! I was instantly in love with this rifle and over the years it accounted for untold numbers of rabbits and squirrels. I guess if I had to pick an all-time favorite gun, that little 67A would be it.
Tom
That year I can truthfully say I have no idea what I got except for what was in my last package. It was in a very large box - the kind that a file cabinet might come in. I was really interested because it was such a big package, but a little disapointed because I knew another Christmas was going to go by and I would still be gunless. I opened the box and to my great surprise, inside I found a cardboard box marked Winchester. Trembling in anticipation, I opened the box. It contained the most beautiful gun I had ever seen. It was a brand new Winchester Model 67A single shot .22. The stock was real walnut and the blueing was a sight for sore eyes. (Especially for a rifle that sold for a $21.00.)
I was in awe of this fine weapon. Instantly I had visions of hunting such dangerous game as cottontail rabbits and fox squirrels. I was so excited I couldn't wait to try it out. Unfortunately, it was not soon to be. First it was the Christmas package cleanup chore, then the farm chores - feeding and watering the chickens and the sheep. After that we all had to sit down to a nice breakfast in the dining room. (A special treat that only happened on holidays or when company was there. The rest of the time we ate in the kitchen.)
Finally, after what seemed like hours of agonizing delays, my Dad said, "OK Tom - let's take your new rifle out to the barn yard." When we got there he gave me a serious lecture on gun safety, showed me how the gun worked and handed it to me, along with a box of .22 shorts. With trembling hands, I loaded the gun, took aim at a tin can, squeezed the trigger like I had practiced with my Daisy Red Rider and low and behold - I hit the darn thing! I was instantly in love with this rifle and over the years it accounted for untold numbers of rabbits and squirrels. I guess if I had to pick an all-time favorite gun, that little 67A would be it.
Tom