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Show Spl Moving Finger "The moving jinger writes, and having writ Moues on: nor all your piety nor wit Sfiall lure it back to cancel half a line, Nor all your tears wash out a' word 0 it." Omar Khavvam You know, if this keeps up, I'll be an ex-columnist before another week is gone; and I don't mean I'll retire, either. Even a weekly newspaper is entitled to some consideration. con-sideration. Not that it's MY fault how was I to know that, just as I got my brain to hitting on all two, I'd come down with the black plague, or triple pneumonia, pneumon-ia, or something? It was all in the line of duty, and you know how I am about duty never put off until tomorrow what you can do today that shouldn't be done at all. As to what SHOULD be done: don't let it throw you, is my motto; if it should be done, somebody more capable will probably prob-ably do it. Anyway, I went out in the blizzard bliz-zard on Saturday night to attend the dedication of our new school, and probably I'll never live to tell my grandchildren about it, now. Darn it I can see their little dirty faces, as they sit on Gran-ma's Gran-ma's lap, seven to a side, the way things are going with my lap, listening to me repeating Granpa's speech . . . Well, I can it, anyway. Feels kind of funny. I guess I should have used mustard mus-tard pickles. Now I'll rub my chest with goose grease. Haven't any goose grease. Sure you havn't, silly there ain't no such thing; who ever heard of greasing a goose? I'll use a little of this cup grease; I suppose there are some people who grease their cups . . . It would sure keep the lipstick off 'em. The cups, not the people. Well. Looks lie kthat about does it Now I'll just go on to bed . . . . Oops! Forgot the most important item: the hot toddy. This is really more Daddy's old standby than Mom's . . . lessee . . . juice of half a lemon, little sugar, little whiskey, hot water. There. Phew! That's' the nastiest stuff I ever tasted. I'll make another one, and put more sugar. . . Wow! Just as bad. Guess there oughta be more lemon, and maybe a little more whis Yipes! Musta got li'l teensy bit TOO much lemon . . . put in jush li'l snootful mean SHPOONFUL more whish . . . mean WHISH-ky . . .Jush- one more li'l lemonful . . . mean SU-GARful SU-GARful . . . There. Sure is hot in here . . . That ephalant . . . mean ELLAFUNT . . . jus' sweat-in' sweat-in' . . .Oh, no jus' ice, meltin' offa roof . . . Good ole ice. Good ole ephalunt . . . good ole tot hoddy . . . hod totty . . . mean HOT TODDY. . . . G'Bye, now. L. C. dream, can't I? It was a good speech, and a swell program, and the refreshments were divided, and ; it's a lovely school. All you folks ! who stayed home are pikers. Un-I Un-I less you were sick, even unto ; death, like I am right now. I Something's got to b.e done; i this is the annual convention of j the Utah branch of the Associated General Contractors of America, ! at the Hotel Utah, and I just j GOTTA go to it: It's the only ! time in my life I ever get to i eat a breakfast I don't cook. Some women look forward to the j teas and recitals and stuff pro- vided for the wives of the dele- gates; others look forward to the j grand dinner and formal ball. I ! can remember when I did, too j but that was when I was much I younger and my feet didn't hurt. I Oh, I can still dance a little, and j I love to; but the high point xl that convention to me is the fact i that for two whole days I don't j have to cook or wash a dish, or ! maek a bed, or shovel snow ..... ! Am I getting old? Brother! . ' ! Way I look right now, it won't ! matter; I can't go, looking like i this. Compared to me, Rudolph the ! Red-Nosed Reindeer is an albino, i My eyes look like two poached j eggs, medium rare . . . and if I took the bags under 'em into the hotel, no bellhop would attempt to lug them for less than a dollar. When I coughed this morning, I looked outside and saw a couple of moose meese? mosses? mice? -oh, hell, let's make 'em elk. They thought it was a mating call. (I should have made them dinosaurs, from the size of the egg that laid!) . Probably I will leave the hotel on a stretcher. If I ever get to it, in the first place. But I'll be brave; I'll dance the night away, with a smile on my lips and six aspirins in my hanky, and all the boys will wonder why I keep wanting a drink. OF WATER, smarty some people have a perverted per-verted sense of humor, don't they? Lips that touch liquor shall never touch mine; everybody knows that. But a lot of people have got around it by drinking through a straw. Anyway, no-body'll no-body'll know that I'm at death's door, with one finger on the bell. I'll wear a sad, sweet smile .... and it looks like that's about all to. I sure can't go out and buy me a new formal, shape I'm in now. I'll have to do like Scarlett O'Hara, I guess make one out of the living room drapes. No, that's hopeless; the silverfish et holes in 'em. I MUST get rid of this cold, and go shopping. I think I will try all of mother's remedies, before I resort to penicillin; they're cheaper, and probably just as good. I'll start with a mustard footbath. Where's the mustard? Hm . . .that's funny fun-ny . . . plenty of mustard yesterday. yester-day. Oh, yes I made salad dressing dress-ing with it. Now what? I guess I will just rub my feet good with salad "dressing . . . nobody liked |