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Show UINTAH BASIN RECORD. DUCHESNE, UTAH "V Scr v fs h'A u&ms. -U Vt V t c , t- by - HOMER CROY wrtl VC ... so it seemed . . . After hours Harlan and I would get something to eat. But no knives and forks for us; just the easy, natural way. Conversation falls away; people too busy. The telephone rings. Go and see who it is, Mrs. Kennedy tells Lucy, who goes in and takes the phone oft the hook. Enoch Knabb is sinking, she announces when she comes back. A hush falls. No knives tapping the plates now. He was always a good neighbor, , Newt says. I never knew anybody more accommodating." Its going to be hard on his wife, Mrs. Kennedy shakes her head sadly. She always thought of things from the womans point of view. The other women nod. How long were they married? someone asks. Twenty-nin- e years, Grandpa says promptly. They were married the year after Grasshopper Year. I suppose itll be at Cains, comes from Mr. Willhoyte. Cains was where the pioneers were laid. It was on the old Cain farm. At last we are so full some of us are panting a little. We just sit there and rest The dog comes over and lies down by Harlan; Harlan pulls his ears gently. Fireflies flick by. Anton Delinsky eats silently and moodily. Finally he says he is thinking of summer melons back home. Mooch better in old country." Thats foolishness, Anton, declares Newt; theres no better melon than a Missouri sidehilL Newt tries to argue with him, but the more Newt argues the more set in his opinion Delinsky becomes. Newt says, Well, if everything is so much better where you came from, why dont you go back? Sadness comes into Delinskys face. Get lonesome sometimes. It Iss hard to get opp an leave your country. Well,? says Newt, put down, I can understand that It is natural to like where you was born. How about some mushmelon? Theres nothing better than our yellow-bottom- s. Yah, says Anton. The incident is over; Antons moment of homesickness is gone. A guinea lets oft a potrack. Rain tomorrow, announces Mr. Willhoyte. Good for the com, comes from Mr. Trullinger. We always thought about everything in relation to corn; corn was cur biggest crop. If there wasnt corn, we had a hard year. Sometimes Mrs. Kennedy would say, It seems to me were always having hard years. We manage to get along pretty well, Newt would say. Sometimes shed say: Feople in town have an easier time. Occasionally wed feel sorry for curselves. Then wed hear about the poor people in the Ozarks, or in the hardpan section of Kansas, or in the alkali section of Nebraska and we would thank God we were so well off. Of course there was 'always lots cf work to do. Sometimes wed make up barrels of clothes to send to these poor people; sometimes wed get a letter back thanking us. Then wed feel thankful all over again how lucky we were. While Harlan and I was resting, Newt would say, Boys. Everybody expects boys to do all the work at a melon party. The girls never do anything; just sit there. Harlan and I gather up the rinds and put them in the wash boiler and carry it out to the chicken yard, dump the rinds out on the ground and bring the wash boiler back for another load. More work. Suppose we bring out the grapho-phonsays Newt Boys! e, The Flogging Of Uncle Tom But Harlan and I didnt care, even if it did mean more work; anybody would like to bring out a grapho-phonfor the graphophone was the finest entertainment we had; and the Kennedys had an especially e, good one. There it was, in its box and with it was a mammoth horn held up by an iron tripod and hook. Newt Who's got a favorite? would ask. Harlan and I always had a favorite because it was the most exciting; Flogging Scene From Uncle Toms Cabin. With Incidental Music. Newt would wind up the graphophone and give the lever a flip. There would be a dull scratching; then suddenly a voice would bellow: Flogging Scene From Uncle Tom's With Music." Incidental Cabin. There would be more grinding; then Uncle Toms quavery old voice would say: Please dont Massa. If you strike this yere white haid, then m SSSJSSSSTM ... imam Him s Driving borne along a country road amid the scenes ol his youth, Homer Croy recalled the people he knew, the friends he had had as a child. A prodigal son of northwest Missouri, he was returning to places that revived memories of happy times with the Kennedys Newt, the kindest man hed ever knovn; Mrs. Kennedy; their daughters, Ida and Lucy; their son, Harlan, his boyhood pal. He recalls how Anton Deliiisky, the newly arrived foreigner, almost let Newt shave off his Tard so hod look more American, And how Newt finally gave up in utter disgust. Then there was that watermanmelon party at the Kennedy sion. It was a gala affair. CHAPTER y AC the hand of Hebben will fall upon you. Simon Legree snarled something, Uncle Toms trembling voice replied, then suddenly the air was filled with the most dreadful sounds. I can still hear the crack of the bull whips in a mudhole, Grandpa would say. Then, just as suddenly as it had started, the noise would stop. We had a colored preacher the Reverend Clarence Baker who preached on Sundays at his church, but helped us at haying time. Pa always asked him to say grace; and the Reverend Baker would bow his head and say a fine grace. When Uncle Tom was being flogged, I always saw the Reverend Clarence Baker there on his knees, tears streaming down his face, receiving the terrible blows. Nobody could speak for a few moments, so vivid, so terrible had the scene been. I don't think wed ever better put that on again, Mrs. Kennedy would say. But we all knew it would be the first next time there was a party. Another was "Cummings Indian Congress at Coney Island. I didnt know what an Indian Congress was (Im still not quite sure) but it had the most bloodcurdling shrieks in i V the world even worse than Uncle Toms. In addition there were the Indian war songs and the beat of their war drums . . . then the terrifying, pitiful shrieks of the poor white settlers. Heathens Turn Out To Be Missionaries Someone sings out, Uncle Josh and everybody smiles. Uncle Josh Wea thersby was a farmer like us, but he wasnt as smart as we were. Sometimes he would be trying to learn to ride a bicycle; a lady would come along and he would try to tip his hat and dodge a streetcar at the same time. Sometimes he would be in a Chinese laundry trying to get his washing, but he had lost his tickee, as the Chinaman called it Pretty soon we would all be laughing, having forgotten all about Uncle Tom and the poor white settlers. Newt would look at his wa and say, I guess wed better have President McKinley. The record read: "Address at the Funeral of our Martyred President William McKinley. The solemn tones and the slow music moved and stirred us. We knew the story of how the assassin had shot President McKinley down at the Buffalo Exposition, and we thought of that as the orator told about the noble William McKinley. After it was over, no one could speak. Finally Anton says: How is President choosed? As Newt tells him, Anton nods from time to time and says, "Yah, yah, iss goot. I expect wed better think about goin," Mr. Willhoyte says. The women go out back, the men light the lanterns. Pa goes over and stands by Newt and the two talk in low tones; man talk. Mr. Willhoyte says: "Well, Newt, my colt stood and sucked, so I guess Ive got to pay you for your service. "Any time you find it convenient, says Newt The women come back, politely pretending they haven't been anywhere, and soon everybody is moving across the yard. The horses begin to paw and whinny; the lanterns mean they can go home. Delinsky seizes Newts hand. Have fine time. In a few moments the people are in their buggies and spring wagons and going down the road; the light from the lanterns gets smaller and smaller and finally disappears behind the osage hedges. Work tomorrow. One Sunday our preacher announced that the following Sunday was to be Foreign Missions Day. This was something to look forward to, for, on Foreign Missions Day, we always brought our old clothes and packed them in barrels for what the preacher called the heathen and the benighted." It was a good time to get rid of our old clothes and to MAHONEY B5 Ns, feel we were also serving God. We liked Foreign Missions Day; it was fun to talk and pack the barrels. But on this special day, the preacher said we were not to bring our old clothes and that no barrels would be packed. This sounded strange. It probably meant money. Next Sabbath, when we tied up at the hitch racks, we got a surprise. The word flashed around that the preacher had two heathens in the church! We went to the windows and peeked through and there, sure enough, were two heathens sitting on the deacons side. Our eyes near ly popped out; never before in our lives had we seen the benighted people we had been sending our old clothes to. They had on the strangest, the most outlandish clothes, we had ever seen. One of the heathens was a man, the other a woman; the worn, an had an ivory fan; now and then she would open the fan, wave it back and forth, then drop it, in her lap Our women had palm-lea- f fans and in the summer would swish them back and forth while listening to the sermon. It was a bit of a shock to find the heathen had better fans than we had. Maybe we shouldnt have rushed off our old clothes so The preacher began slow, for he knew he had something good; no one, today, was going to pretend the colt had got tangled up in the harness. He told about what splen-diwork our American missionaries were doing and what a blessed privilege it was to save the souls of the benighted and win their hearts to God. Then he read some statistics about how many had been saved. The number seemed tremendous. But there were, he said, millions yet to be saved. That was discouraging Finally he got to what everybody was waiting for. He said we were privileged to have with us, this Sabbath, Brother and Sister Miller who had just returned from performing a splendid work in Japan, Well, that was a shock. Brother and Sister. They were not heathen at alL They were far above us, for they were missionaries doing Gods work in a foreign land, while all we did was to stay at home and think only of ourselves. It made us feel pretty cheap. I will now introduce Brother Miller. Brother Miller stood up and we had a good look at his Japanese clothes; they would never do for farming. His shoes were held on by straps between his toes. He wouldn't get very far in a muddy milk lot. Suddenly Brother Miller smiled and said, "Ohio! We thought that was where he was from, but it turned out this was the Japanese word for Now, lets all get acquainted and say it together Ohio! So we all said it together. Now let the worn en say it. The women said it Now let the men say it We said it. We found we had misjudged him, for he began to tell about how poor the people of Japan were and how they had to plow with a cow on one side and the wife on the other. That was far, far worse than the Delin-skyAbout all they raised was rice; also they had some fish. At night they had to sleep on the floor. We felt sorrier and sorrier for the poor Japanese and saw how exceedingly lucky we were. None of us had to sleep on the floor except when company came. But that was not all, as we soon found; mothers had to sling their children in pokes over their backs and work in the rice fields with their children crying and sobbing. So vivid and stirring was his description that we could hardly keep from sobbing ourselves. Thank God! we lived in wonderful America where no woman had to carry her baby out to the field in a sling over her back. The Japanese loved their farms, he said; we understand that Any farmer would. How-are-yo- s. The Boy Who Did Not Love Flowers There was one boy who was called, The Boy Who Did Not Love Flowers. Everybody in Japan loved Gods beautiful flowers except this mean boy who didnt love anything except himself. He would walk across a flower bed and pull up flowers and shake the dirt off their roots. I hated that boy; and so did everybody else. But it worked out all right for he was converted to the true religion of God and gave up destroying flowers. Abo there was a bad man who smoked, drank sake, and gambled. His children had to go out on the street and beg. One day the man came to the mission, heard a sermon, confessed his sins and was saved. The children didn't have to beg and the family was happy once more. And so were we. He told other stories and we felt more and more sorry for the poor Japanese. Then he said his wife could play the samisen and sing in the Japanese language. Before our astonished eyes his wife reached under the seat, pulled out something that looked like a hired man's banjo, walked out in her foreign clothes, sat down on a chair in the middle of the preaching platform and began to play and sing. Never, never had there been anything like this in our church What exceedingly lucky people we were. (TO EE CONTINUED)' SIPCRTOBDIPIE 1TV fast Sometimes Mrs. Kennedy would say, It seems to me were always having hard years. Daytimer Has Bright Contrast Lovely Nightwear Is Sew Easy By JOE GREAT TENNIS CHAMPION OF 20 YEARS AGO, STILL IS GOOD ENOUGH TO BEAT MOST OF TODAY5 FEMININE STARS, OR SO CLAIM DON BUDGE 4 TED SCHROEDER. SHES LOST SOME OF HER SPEED, SAYS TED, 'BUT SHE CAN LOB WITHIN AN INCH OF THE BASELINE AND HER FOREHAND IS MORE POWERFUL THAN ANYTHING IN THE GAME TODAY. n: V. , A' if VHE MOOERN MAJOR LEAGUE RECORD FOR THE MOST BASES ON BALLS GIVEN UP IN A SEASON IS HELD BY BOS FELLER. WHO WALKED IN 1933. 20S felp : JSS&i kJ 44" This Casey Will Not Strike Out the Stanford-Lo- s football Angeles philosopher, used to say and write that it wasn't so much ability and skill that made southern teams hard to beat as it was pride of section. It is still Dixie against the world, Dick said. There was the time the Georgia captain told Mai Stevens, Yales coach, before the I dont know wholl win game: but we are hoping to make the South proud of us." Yale didnt make a first even with down, Albie Booth. In the same way a- - 4 4 c I I believe it is pride of name that gives the Yankees a keen Grantland Rice baseball lift. They keep remembering they are Yan kees when the blue chips are down-s-uch as winning six of their first eight games with the Red Sox in Boston. Joe McCarthy has been forced to battle the prestige from other years he helped to build. When a bunch of us left St. Peters burg last March there was little to cheer about. You knew just one cheerful thing that Casey Stengel was doing a fine job with fine assistance from Bill Dickey, Frank Crosetti and Jim Turner. Here is what you knew that Joe DiMaggio would be out a long time, maybe all season. That Yogi Berra was still a catching gamble, that the pitching was uncertain with Frank Shea unimproved and others on the wilder side. Would Joe Page be the pitcher of 1947 or 1948? You knew Phillips and Kryhoski were fair first basemen, but not too brilliant. Coleman, Woodling and Bauer were not seen too much. No one seemed to know anything about them. Certainly no one figured they were to help fill open gaps with so much success. When you looked at the Yankees and then looked at the Red Sox line-u- p and the Cleveland line-u- p you had to write off a carload of ifs to give the Yankees a good chance. If anyone had said on the first day the Yankees are going to suffer SO injuries and ailments and accidents of a serious nature to DiMaggio, Ilenrich, Berra Llndell, Porterfield, Brown, Stirnweiss, Keller and several others, any number of experts would have picked the second division for the Yankees. And no one could have blamed them. Stengel and his staff have accomplished an amazing job in keep-n- g morale flying high against the HYLAND, for you beginners drawstring style you can turn out in no time at all! Ideal for the trousseau of the fall bride a welcome Casual Frock TFOUTIIFUL and pretty as can addition to your own wardrobe. be is this casual frock for genPattern No. 1914 la ft perforeral wear. Scallops outline the ated pattern In sizes 12, 14, 18, is, 20; 40 and 42. 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