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Show . 4 . . THE LEW SUN, LEHI. UTAH . -- 1 iF rrORV THUS FAR: Amoi Croy L n MarysviUe. Ml . .i- h. married and a on, Ho- r-A born. Homer' earliest recol- AWt V . a.a 4..iin Ti ' liarn and wrecked the orchard. I V gi.ant cnurcn, cmpj -Vfj it- er weight guessing. Dehorning 'Wi aJve and the curing of hami ia t of the Job that Homer had to loV A became hU Job to wean the lv. "f.e originated the idea of placing nV tub ln tne m"k pa" and hal lUim ink on that Instead of his finger. this means iney L irkfr than by finger. He sent U Idea to the local farm paper which lated ft in fU. 1 CHAPTER VII (Then the water was boiling, the aiding barrel set at the proper gle in the bobsled and everything is ready, Pa would go to the house ,d come out with his rifle and brass llwderflask with the measuring de- e. 'J expect you'd better go in bouse for a while, Homer. Ii was glad to, for I couldn't bear Ijjjsee What was going to happen. . . . )2onsidl the house there was a tense-4! tense-4! ss, a lowering of voices. One of )tlt women, who had come to help rtejr mother, would look out the win-w win-w and say, "They're in the hog jnow," il!hey would try to talk neighbor-, neighbor-, pi news, but it would be in sub- jed voices and there'd be silences, ten fay mother would begin to et a knife on a crock. Suddenly, ! krp and clear on the winter air, uld come a shot . . . then the jjnd of a man running, and I juld know he had a knife in his Tpi and it would seem to me I ' n cwldn't live through the next fit sments. There would be an- iot, and another . . . three bw. Then there would be a I of relief, for we all knew j s the last. The women would ? J io talk again, but a little too t would open the door; the jjf powder would still be on the nen would come dragging one fhogs by the forelegs to the w' pa in a lew moments me f I would be in the scalding wa- the men would go "Hueh!" pther so as to get the right for the animal to slosh up n in the barrel. Pa would me of the hair between his nd finger and give it a pull. ore time, boys." st the animals would be and hanging on the gam- fThe worst part butchering -jould be over, for it didn't seem so ad now as it had when the hogs :ere alive and the men were ad-)anc'- in the lot. The faintness I Wad ' Jt would be gone and I'd be g about the good eating that jming. And so'd everybody tots of talk, now, about eat- I be meat was being cut, the Zfr i would strip the casings, turn iside out, scrape them, and jm to soak m salt water. ge making was best of alL f lean meat trimmed from the nd shoulders and some from jderloin. When it was ready, fnder would be brought and iMy would gather around, as s the opening of a circus. My I was the one who fed the toto the grinder and I was the to had to turn the damned k Jsto , On a chair, beside her, would M e Salt and npnnpr in hnwls at . f r i I sage was in the bag it was Jn. My mother was proud of iT Mty to mix the seasonings ht. She knew the amount of IS. I put in: if too much went in. J g. I the sausage an old taste. At last the day would be over, fid the neighbors, each with a piece fresh meat, would be starting jome. The house, which had been f full of excitement, would seem Jely Everywhere would be the kculiar, unpleasant smell of fresh ileat! I The casings would be stacked in lie pantry, so they wouldn't freeze, Qd I would forget about them. Then lnae morning, about two weeks lat-f. lat-f. i I would be coming back from with the chores there would a i perfectly captivating smell :'ar W on the air the smell of fry-g fry-g nisage! f T -c would be Ma, when I opened fj kT, bending over the stove. p3 i ftuld take the lid off the skillet, m the cakes over with a fork, then it t'ae lid back on again. The ? ' would get more and more en-" en-" 'ng and I'd get hungrier and ' ier. At last breakfast would be ready, here 'in the center of the table l be the redolent, brown cakes. e'd all take one me pretty fast W lla would look at Pa and say, t do you like it, Amos?" Pa O i , eat a mnmen) fVior. fel; You got just about the right oi seasomng." Then he'd t me in that sly way of his J. "Homer, do you think you'll to masticate a bit of it?" t this first inspection. Ma pass the buckwheat cakes Swould cut a slice of honey. I it over the cakes and let it ni the sides. On top of this ig mound I would put my Je, then haul my knife across 8;x sausage and buckwheat ?y aU up together. I tell you J. wed! y I FT M m si M w it a r Cure CROY W.N.U. SERVICE But that wasn't all. At noon that day when I opened up my dinner bucket at school there would be a package with grease spots showing through the brown paper a delicious deli-cious cold sausage cake. It wouldn't be as brown, and it wouldn't have the lovely smell it had at breakfast, but it was still good. It always would be good; nothing could keep it from being good. I wish I had some now-right this moment! Newt Kennedy was our neighborhood neighbor-hood correspondent for the weekly, and, for the items he. sent in, he received re-ceived the paper free of charge. Newt was a trifle weak on gram-mar, gram-mar, but he was strong on what people peo-ple liked to read, and always, in everything he wrote, was this undercurrent under-current of humor whirh T which influenced me so much. He signed himself "The One-Horse Farmer," which, of course, made everybody laugh, for no one could run a farm with one horse. This was another way of saying "The Bottom of the -Heap." Of course Newt wasn't, but it was good fun to pretend he was. Newt didn't merely send in who was sick and who was visiting and that tramps had broken in the schoolhouse again, but sent in comments and humorous philosophy. Each week, when we got the paper, the first thing I turned to was the One-Horse Farmer. He was the biggest and strongest man in our section, and about the best natured. A great brawny giant with a mop of hair like an unfinished un-finished haystack. He wore an overcoat over-coat fastened around his middle with a belt; he had felt boots and over- 'The One-Horse Farmer shoes and a cap with flaps that pulled down over his ears. He did something of value to the township, for he conceived the idea we ought to have plays, and set about getting them up in the same joyous, boyish way he went into anything any-thing that had fun in it. These were put on in the Wilcox School which was bigger than the Knabb School. There was no door in the end of the room which was to be the stage, but that was all right; a window was used. The women made a curtain, cur-tain, and the boys and girls began to study their lines. When the time came, that wonderful opening night, Newt, all dressed up in his good clothes, stepped out in front of the draw-curtain and said the opening number would be a tableau entitled "The Setting Sun." The curtain whizzed along the galvanized clothes line and there, sitting on a box, was one of the neighborhood boys. It took us some moments to see through it, but when we did we thought it was about the funniest thing we'd ever heard of. Well, those plays were a tremendous success, suc-cess, judged by our standards, and brought us immense satisfaction. Newt could be plenty serious. He would sit 'up with the sick and, in some strange way was amazingly tender with them, this rough giant of a man. When one of our neighbors neigh-bors died. Newt was the first person to put a shovel over his shoulder and start toward the cemetery. The second time my name was ever in print, Newt Kennedy put it there. I tried to earn money for myself, by having a line of traps in the slough, and one day I found a long, strange, perfectly white creature crea-ture as big around as a buggy whip handle, in a steel trap. The neighbors neigh-bors came in to see it When the One-Horse Farmer came out that week this item was in it: "Homer Croy has captured a white weasel." I was delighted. I was thrilled! It had never occurred to me that I would be in the One-Horse Farmer, but thwe I was for all the world to se! I thought over and over why he had used the word "captured instead in-stead of "trapped," for I was com-Lg com-Lg more and more to love words andtobe.UtflewedbyttethnU. ing things one could do with them. 1 1 I" As for the weasel, it must have been an albino. I took it down to Mr. Jenkins, who bought for a fur house in St. Louis, and sold it My father was a "cattle" farmer, Mr. Knabb was a "hog" farmer. Newt Kennedy was a "mule man," for even in our neighborhood we specialized. There were many other mule men, but none like Newt Ken-nedy, Ken-nedy, who got fun even out of mules. Most farmers, when they wanted to "break" a mule, gingerly hitched him up with an old mare who could be got Into a trot only by determined deter-mined effort, and let the mule lunge and kick and prance beside the faithful old mare. But not Newt! Newt got his fun out of the very thing that others dreaded. He liked to break mules; more than that he looked forward to mule-breaking time, as children do to circus time. Fall was mule-breaking time; dur-ing dur-ing the hiatus between harvest and corn picking. The mule colts had been on grass all summer, kicking up their heels and watching the horses and other mules plodding off to work. They'd run along beside, as near as the fence would allow, and whinny and taunt the dull plodders; plod-ders; at least, it seemed that way. But these gay mules didn't know that Newt Kennedy would soon be on their trail. Newt would go bouncing bounc-ing along in a wagon, or on a hay-frame, hay-frame, looking them over with a joyous eye. It wouldn't be long till he would have a nose-twitch on them. Usually, when a farmer wanted to break a mule, he would take him to the back pasture so he could swing on a line and make him run in a circle. But nothing so common as this would do for Newt Kennedy. When it began to chill up in the autumn, he would say to me, "Homer, "Ho-mer, are you going to be doin' anything any-thing Thursday morning?" I never was, if Newt wanted me. It was understood I was to say nothing to anyone, fc- Newt's mule methods were frowned on. They might like him fifty-one weeks a year, but mule-breaking week they had no use at all for him. I would go out Ihe back way, so as to appear to be about my work (a suspicious item) and cut across the fields to Newt's. I could see the mules even before I got there, for they would be running around in the barn lot, the wildest things on four legs, and the trickiest. And the smartest, too, for a mule is miles ahead of a horse in horse sense. It really ought to be called "mule sense." "I thought maybe you'd like to help me break," he would say and we would go to the horse lot where the mules were racing around and around with their heads as high as giraffes. Newt would stand there, his arms on the fence, looking them over, as a fisherman might look over a trout he was going to have his way with. The thing was to get a rope around the neck of one of them. Newt would approach with a rope held behind him, and suddenly send it looping through the air, like a cowboy. cow-boy. If the rope landed, it was hell. Newt and I would have to sink our heels in the ground and hang on for dear life, Of course the mule couldn't go out of the let so we would stand in the middle, like a ringmaster at a circus, and let the mule run 'round and 'round. After a time we'd get him into a chute that Newt had for the purpose pur-pose and leave him, as Newt said, to "think it over," and then go back for another mule. This one usually would be in harness and considered partly broken. Newt would not have dreamed of putting an old plug-ugly plow horse in to ; break a mule with. Newt wanted to get fun out of his work. After a time we'd have the partly broken, second mule in, and snubbed; then we'd go back to the j first mule and Newt would pretend he loved that mule. He'd stroke his nose and talk to him in honeyed -words, but Newt had something be- j hind his DacK. ine xwitcn. xms was a stick as long as a person's arm, with' a loop of rope at the end. Newt would get the loop over the mule's upper lip and twist it tight , and pass the stick to me. The mule's head would go down and his heels up. But usually I could hold him, in spite of all the ideas he had on the subjects Newt would creep up with a collar and slip it over his neck. Bit by bit he would get the harness on the mule and then the harness on the second mule. Then would come the tremendous job of getting the mules to a wagon tongue. Only Newt could do that, sometimes with soothing words; sometimes with threats that if he had understood under-stood them, would have made the mule's blood turn to ice water. In some superhuman way. Newt would get both those mules on a wagon and then I would be sent to open the gate to the public road! No back pasture for Newt Some of the neighbors even broke mules on plowed ground hitched to a drag. Bui not Newt Kennedy. He wanted to extract every possible morsel of fun from it Fun that made the neighbors think he was crazy. (TO PE CONTINUED Kathleen Norris Says: , These Wartime Giddy Wives Betl Syndicate. "Doris cried bitterly on the dark By KATHLEEN NORRIS SOME of the husbands who are enduring terrible hardships in far-away places are naturally worried because the little woman at home is having such a hard, dull, lonely time. Other husbands have the problem of Capt. Jerome Blank, who writes me from Guadalcanal. "There is not a man down here," says his letter, "who is not sick for home. Every one of ui talks of it, dreams of it. Through heat and fatigue, fa-tigue, insects and prickly heat long hikes through rough grass, long waits under the simmering midday sun, the men talk of trees, and the shady porch at home, and. Mom's eooking. We know we have to get through this and we'll get through it, but Lord, how we want the day to arrive when we can start for home I "Well, what I'm writing you about, Mrs. Norris, is my wife, Doris. Dor-is. I'm 42; she's 28 and extremely lovely. Sometimes I don't dare let myself think how lovely she is. After a most unfortunate first marriage mar-riage I was divorced 11 years ago; six yean later I met Doris, who had also had an unhappy young marriage. Both our former partners part-ners have found other mates, so that we felt entirely free to marry, and for two years our love story was unclouded and exquisite. Then came the war, and I came out here. Doris pried bitterly on the dark day I said goodby to her, and the memory mem-ory of her lonely little figure turning away haunted me. "But now it's all different. She Is living in a group of friends, who like herself are idle, with plenty of money. She is having a whirl of a good time. It is aU dancing, drinking, drink-ing, card games, country clubs. She goes to races and night clubs, buys new frocks and hats; is in Florida with on friend, going to Santa Barbara Bar-bara with another; the visits a luxurious lux-urious Adirondacks eamp and "never In her life bad such a gorgeous time.' One MaVs Name. "Of late months the name of one man has been in her letters, or rather rath-er has been conspicuously dropped from her letters. But my Jealousy supplies his name. He is a rich and attractive young fellow, debarred de-barred by a mild stomach complaint com-plaint from, active service; idle, amusing and unscrupulous. Dislike of him and envy of him have been burning me up for weeks; I, cannot get him and the thought of his admiration ad-miration of my wife, out of my mind. "Now comes a letter from Doris that has set me on fire. She is making a long stay with her mother, moth-er, a thing she never wanted to do before. She says she Is a sorry and ashamed little girl who played too long with fire,' and that when I come home there is something I must forgive her.' Also I am not to believe anything Margaret or Sally Sal-ly write me. These are my sisters. She says she is 'done with Tony forever.' "Mrs. Norris," the letter ends, "this has throws me into a state of indescribable agony. I cannot eat "Bit smugness st horn. , WNU Features. day I said 'good-by" to her.' AGONIZING SUSPICION Far harder to bear than tropical heat, galling insects and the danger from the enemy ene-my is a soldier's haunting fear that his wife may be wandering wander-ing from him in his absence. When he has her veiled admission ad-mission in writing that she has been unfaithful, the bitter chagrin is almost maddening. What can I do, asks an unfortunate un-fortunate officer. "I am in a state of indescribable agony. I cannot eat or sleep. If she has really betrayed me, I can never forgive her." or sleep. My mind Is filled with his detestable triumph, his smugness smug-ness at home while I fight through hot day after day down here. At one moment I want to write her a scalding scald-ing letter, at another I find myself weakening into tears of pity and love. If she has really betrayed me, I can never forgive her. But how shall I know? If she has just been foolish but no, those phrases I quote above mean more than that. I am miserable, miserable, miserable. miser-able. What position shall I take? What can I do?" You can do, my dear Captain Jerome, what thousands of other husbands and wives, with all sorts of new problems to face, must do after the war. You can come home, meet your wife, look your changed circumstances ln the face, decide where you will live and what line of work you want to take up, find a house, settle down to matrimony and forget the past. If you want to be happy if anyone wants to be happy hap-py after this war, it must be by a heroic closing of doors. It may be that Doris' charm and beauty and leisure were not proof against temptation. temp-tation. WelL you chose her for those very qualities; you didn't want a sensible, modest, faithful little woman wom-an who would keep your house and your memory safe. War develops abnormal situations, in which men and women act as they would never act ordinarily. There is going to be an enormous amount of straightening and adjusting adjust-ing to be done when the war is over. It is for every one of us to lessen the grand sum total of that uncomfortable uncom-fortable process as much as we can. It is for every one of us to overlook, forget forgive in every direction; not to demand explanations explana-tions aot to rake up the past not to Indulge suspicion and euriosity. Doris is evidently a little frightened fright-ened herself at the length to which she has carried this flirtation. But being beautiful, young, idle and rich, she will presently embark oa another. an-other. Steel yourself not to bother your head about them. When you come back, expect a welcome from a loving wife, build your lives together to-gether as if there had not been this grim interruption, and whatever you do after you have given peacetime peace-time marriage a fair trial, let matters mat-ters go oa as they are now. and solve tcsnorrsw'i problem when tomorrow to-morrow oomea. Carpet Beetles Breed la Lint By doing a thorough job ef fall housecleaming, housewives can keep down the damage done by carpet beetles. Ia many cases of severe infestation the breeding place of these pests has been found in cold air registers and similar places where lint has ben allowed to accumulate accu-mulate over a long period of time. Eventually the larvae came out and wandered around looking for more food. For that reason, thorough thor-ough housecleaning is essential to eradicate these insects. SEWING CIRCLE NEEDLEWORK Lovable Sleepy Time Gift Doll 5643 A Favorite Toy CAVORITE toy for little tots to 1 take to bed. This life-like doll is 22 inches long and is adorable in outing flannel, fur cloth, sateen or percale. Use yarn scraps for hair. For complete cutting, pattern, sewing and finishing Instructions for the Crib Doll h ASK MOTHER, SHE KNOWS . TrSI i r j ' I " , ' , ft i-H-tiii 'W' -!.(! 4.- jr? Don't risk driving on snowy, slippery slip-pery roads without the protection of Weed Chains it's too hard to get a new car. If you need new tire chains buy Weed Chains now for the supply is limited. If you own old Weed Chains have them repaired and reconditioned at once. For best buy in tire chains, ask for Weed American Bar-Reinforced. Made by American Chaia Division of American Chain & Cable. "In Business for WKD AMERICAN Your Safety." BAR-REINFORCED lest Voloela Tira Chains GET WEED CHAINS EARLY Keep Your Car and Truck Moving (Pattern No. 8643) tene It eenti In coins. your m, address and th palturn nu.iv ber. SEWING CIRCLE NEEDLEWORK 149 New Montgomery SL San Francisco, Caul. Enclose M cents for Pattern Na - Name Address- ThisHome-Mixed Cough Syrup Is Most Effective Easily Mixed. Needs No Cookinf. Cough medicines usually contain a large quantity of plain syrup a good Ingredient, but one which you can easily maka at home. Take 2 cups of granulated sugar and 1 cup of water, and stir a few moments until dls-aolved. dls-aolved. Or nsa cora eyrup or liquid honey, instead of sugar eyrup. Then get from any druggist IVs ; .ounces of Flnex, pour it into a pint , bottle, and add your eyrup. This gives you a full pint of wonderful medioina for coughs due to aolda. It makes a real saving beoauae It gives you about . four times as much for your money. It never spoils, aad tastes fine. This is actually a surprisingly effective, ef-fective, quick-acting cough relief. Promptly, you feet K taking hold. It ' loosens the phlegm, soothes the Irritated Irri-tated membranes and makes breathing breath-ing easy. You've never seen anything better for prompt and pleasing results. rinex is a special compound of proven ingredients, ln concentrated form, a most reliable soothing agent for throat and bronchial membranes. Money refunded if it doeun't plcasa you in every way. A - 4 |