Nana's log house was the centre of great festivities one September's day in 1924 when Emma, the Dunlop's eldest child, was wed to Jack Cotnam. Emma was a soft-hearted, loving girl, adored by her younger brother, Eddy. It was a happy wedding day. There was great festivity. A fiddle had been rounded up and the younger folks made ready to dance. To prepare a floor they commandeered Nana's summer kitchen. With bashful grins some of the lads asked permission to move a huge cupboard to the lawn outside to make room for the vigours of the dance. The cupboard was bulging with food, hams and home baked breads, cakes and an array of pies that would make any mouth water. Given permission, they carefully manoeuvred the cupboard outside to the lawn where it was decided to leave it overnight since the weather was kind and who in Deux Rivieres would thieve his neighbours larder?

Little did the careless person who inadvertently left the cupboard door off its latch realise that a band of desperadoes was lurching in the neighbourhood.

Morning dawned and Eddy stumbled out through the kitchen door, eyes glazed with sleep on his way to the outhouse. To his horror he saw that the cupboard had been vandalised, the pies upended, gobbled and strewn through the grass. He raced into the house to report this catastrophe and it was no time before a group of vigilantes was on the trail of the culprits. The criminals, nefarious but not too bright, were soon discovered lolling carelessly in Andrew Jackson's meadow, the remains of their feast glistening on their faces, meringued from ear to ear, innocent brown eyes staring widely at their pursuers. Jackson's cows had had a feast.