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Show x age j. uui Do Fou Remember? ... By MAUDE H. BENEDICT Remembering today the John S. Boyer family. As a child, memory comes of hearing his kindly voice in family group parties, in meetings meet-ings in different wards, where he often spoke. His wife, too, is remembered re-membered she was so gracious i and lovely. Makes us wonder if . only in the smaller towns older people are still so nice to children , they meet upon the street. Recollection of Springville days brings back faces of several elderly elder-ly ladies and gentlemen of our town who had time to stop for a little visit with us. We recall several of the Boyer family, but the one best known to In fact, just as she'd arter. "Behave yourself! How dare you, sir!" Cried VVidder Spriggins' darter. Just then an old rampageous sheep Who had been feeding near, sir, Squared off, and like a ton of brick He took me with his head, sir! I landed in a pond cuck full of frogs and filthy water And thar she stood, and larfed and larfed, That Widder Spriggins' darter. Well, she was married 'tother day, A lawyer chap has got 'er. And I'll forgive but not forget That Widder Spriggins' darter! us is Myron A because he married mar-ried one of mother's sisters, Eliza Clegg. Perhaps there is a side of Uncle Myron's character and talents tal-ents known only to the few, for despite his rather dignified and quiet appearance, we remember at many house parties the humorous readings he used to give. One about a parson trying to evict a ram from church: (Hope this memory is correct). "Rammy, rammie, Best little rammie in the townie!" Another, part of which is: "I took an early half-mile walk As everybody arter -And in the cowpatch I was met By Widder Spriggins' darter. Sez I, "Mah dear, how do you do?" Sez she, "I reckon finely." Sez I, "Of all the gals I know, You look the most divinely!" I snatched a kiss; she slapped my face, Ana Auni iMiza coyer singing I a little ditty to us kids ' "Once there was a spry young I fellow Lived down on the Isle of Man; If he's alive his name's Billy Taylor, Tay-lor, And if he's dead, it is the same!" I Another favorite of ours she I used to sing was: "The minister was preaching His good old sacred teaching, The congregation sat in ecstasy. The bells had just ceased ringing, The choir was sweetly singing, 'Nearer My God To Thee'." At long last the skies are blue and there's hint of springtime in the Rockies, particularly welcomed welcom-ed after the long stormy weather. We are writing this at a desk in the office of the Eccles building, build-ing, six stories up, where we have a commanding view of the entire Ogden area. Occasionally a plane wings its way, droning an ever lessening purr as it' passes far- ther away. The day is lazy reminds one of the song popular a few years ago, "I Ain't Lazy I'se Jes Dreamin'!" Wings over America wings both of protection and destruction! It is well to remember that when this war is over (as the poem in the Herald last week read) "there wlil still be an America." 1 There will be lovely days again when final victory is won; days when we can relax and do some of the things we love to do, and have had no time for during these busy war programs. First aid classes, pictures on the incendiary bomb and how to extinguish extin-guish it, are held weekly in the high schools here. Red Cross is running full blast, every day of the week, with capacity machine operators, cutters, and knitters. Scores of women are learning to knit. It's a funny thing knitting knit-ting always seems linked with war. Perhaps women feel so helpless, help-less, and long so to do something for this war effort. They just naturally na-turally turn their minds to clothing cloth-ing the soldier, sailor, airman the mothering instinct. Regardless of the summer coming on and the man fighting, perhaps in the warm countries, where the very thought of woolen clothing would be smothery. smo-thery. Women do accomplish much in war time, as has been their record rec-ord all through the ages. Alex Johnson once said, "If you want a thing done thoroughly, beautifully, perfectly and gracefully, grace-fully, get a woman to do it!" A lovely tribute to women, isn't it? And today on many battlefronts the Martians (with which realism Orson Welles depicted their pouncing pounc-ing down on a defenseless world one Hallowe'en night a few years ago) is being really enacted in this mad war. But we will win, so, everybody, "chins up!" Do you remember? |