OCR Text |
Show THE CITIZEN 6 IFOn PUBLIC OPINION -- Letters to Public Opinion are to be addressed to The Citizen, 420 Ness Building, Salt Lake City. They are to be written on one side of the paper, and are not to exceed 250 words. Constructive; criticism is sought on affairs concerning business, political and social development.. Letters should be signed, and if desired to appear under another name, that should be designated. By BILL Now, listen you fatheads, there's a party of dudes coming out tomor- row, an' I don't want you bums run- nin around here with nothin' on but . a pair of pants! When the Old Man trimmed his moustache and came. poking around the. bunk house in the evening, he usually meant business. s, Mike an' But, we're not nurses to a bunch of house-brodoods! When I'm a cuttin' out stock an shearin' sheep, I ain'ta goin' to wear no dickey! Shut up! Endicott sent 'em over. an I've gotta look after 'em. Strip off if you want to at the corrals, but for hell's sake put on your shirts the yard! All right, all right. But jest th' The boys grumbled. Mich- same aelson turned on his heel. The next noon the dudes arrived with an imperious old her two daughters, their gentlemen friends and sundry other appurten- ances but why put me to the trouble of branding them? They're all right on their own range, only The Dutchess of Federal Heights says she's goin to make a tour of . right awftali luncheon',' Jerry growled as we went back to the shearing sheds.. Xet 'er come, I snorted, an' bring the frills with her. They're mighty good lookin', though. Seem to have good sense. It was a sizzling June day. The bawled and piled wooly np against the gate. Raised choking clouds of white dust. There had and I on a ball-u- p was in. the pen hauling the fool things off each other and starting them down the chute. Off went my hat, mv bandana, my shirt. I wished I could shed my pants. Come outa there you confounded bunch o' blanketv blank blank. . . I was sweaty, mad. Why, Mr., eiv-- is that proper?. An imperious voice lifted itself above the racket. I laid off kicking sheep and crawled over the fence. The Dutchess and her cortege were, indeed, touring. Oh, she put her handkerchief to her nose, and coughed delicately, I never in all my life! My dear man, do you realize that you are are practically naked? Heavens! Un- civilized person! I cow-hand- dad-burn- ed ke Editor The Citizen : Im sick and tired of listening to long and dry radio orations on the value of diamonds, Blah toothpaste, and so and sos best something or other. I bought a radio primarily for entertainment, and it certainly is disgusting to have,to listen to a lot of local orators training their tonsils on the powerless radio audience. Every time there is a national program, I get in on it, because then Im sure that I'll get fifteen min- utes of music as is music to every 30 seconds of talk. And then the talk is made short and sweet. But when these men with local products to advertise get on the radio, deliver me. I tune out. I doubt that I have heard 30 minutes of local programs in the last week, whereas I haven't missed any of the national broadcasts. Cant these local advertisers get wise to the . fact that we'll feel a great deal more kindly inclined to their goods if they give us a little entertainment along with the bitter pill of their conversation. R. S. H. Editor The Citizen: ' Why does everyone pick on Salt Lakes West Side? In your own magazine not so many weeks ago you said' that the Temple Block hotel would be the first real structure built on the west side of town for a score ' of years. You must be forgetting the station, the Ford assembly plant, and half a dozen other very respectable buildings on the lee side of Main Street. Just because the railroad tracks happen to be on this side of town and there are machine shops and the like, there is no reason to establish a stigma to this section. There arc plenty of respectable people living out here, and there are. many fine residential districts as well. West Sider. -- ' - In-terurb- IFaj6s DURHAM IBsn? an fuss-budg- et sons-of-gu- ns the-cou- nt, ftr red-eye- d, She fixed me with her eagle eye, and I knew she was looking at the scar on my ribs, and the dust oh my face. I hitched up my pants --but that only " covered up a few more inches of my hide, She paraded off. Come, girls! Me Nekkid? I muttered, Sock! Maybe the old girl was right, . at that. I don't practically relih having them young damsels lookin at the hair on my chest I put on my shirt. My ears burned. I remembered that little lecture. It changed my whole life, you might say, and when the Old Man sent me into Salt Lake with the big car, I took along a quantity of boiled lars and other raiment. August was in full blast. It was hotter in town than on the range, The asphalt bubbled. On the street my collars wilted, steamed like a Turkish bath. Johnnie, I said, turning to my It's a companion of the moment. shame the way men have tot dress to be civilized. They're like sheep. One runs out with a rope collar, wool pants an coat, to say nothin' of vest, shirt, underwear an other mentionables an the rest of 'em trail along. Now on the range Then I remembered the old woman boring into the scar on my ribs with her 'hawk eye. A Ahead of us two young ladies stepped out of a drug store. By the H. Elongated Moses John, are them two frills bathing girls, er ' Neither one. They're very prop-bee- n er young ladies of the community. But where's their dresses? Their backs were toward us, and, I swear it, I could span with one hand the amount of dress there was that showed on eeither of them. Those are the dress, A bit short in length, perhaps, but the latest thing. But where's their My Gawd! , col-arou- nd . on-inspect- ion ! -- sun-tan-ba- ck sox ?' Oh, tlie girls aren't wearing them this season. son of an 'Well, Im a pin-tailed ancient weakness!. They're nekid! Were you Pardon me, sir! spe. king to either of us? The. two of them turned around, Oh, my Gawd! They were the daughters of the Dutchess. |