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Show Chatter Box Dear Suzy. 1 always thought the purpose of an organization was to combine into a unified group where it was all for one and one for all. or some Hich purpose. But not so the West Millard Wildlife (and wildlife is used rather loosely) Federation. They threw their annual steak supper up the canyon last week and promised their "rules and regulations'' reg-ulations'' that the canyon would be patrolled at six a. m. to gather up the strays and those who had partaken well but not wisely of the steaks and condiments, of which "here was ample. Came nine thirty and the officers of the club cleared out leaving the main body of the membership to their own devices and fate, forgetting their promises and acting in a most ungentleman-ly ungentleman-ly manner. Two simple sports were indulged in by the membership broad jumping and star gazing, but due the to brillance of the stars at that high altitude it was necessary for the stargazer to shield his eyes wilh a bottle. Now ninety percent of the membership is what might be classed as "prime and portly" and has not been cut out for strenuous stren-uous exercise for the past ten to twenty years. But even so wagers were placed and heated arguments had over the ability of one man to out do the others, in both branches bran-ches of the sports. The broad jumping, I am told, was particularly hard on the seat of the jumpers' pants, as those who jumped and were able to get their feet off the ground came to a sad end on their end. After 10 or more jumps the jumpers usually became so stiff that they had to take a little catnap to recuperate, and so it was with Lynn Talbot. Lynn picked a spot where he thought would be easy for the promised pro-mised patrol to pick him up and went to sleep, little thinking of what lay in store for him. Came the dawn, as the poets say, and Lynn was still there. Came the sun and it shined in his eyes reminding re-minding him of another day in store, and waking him to his predicament, pre-dicament, which was not pleasing to contemplate. Here he was up the canyon wearing cowboy boots and faced with a walk to Oak City. He tucked his boots under his arm and takes off, getting to Oak City slightly before the milk truck took off for Delta and so was able to get 40 winks on the lawn there before coming home in hardly hard-ly the style he had anticipated when he left for the canyon the day before. His grievances against the Wildlife Wild-life is just, though, but he should realize that he musn't take what they say.' too literally. Next year he should go prepared with an a-larm a-larm clock, or else go to sleep facing fac-ing west, then he could get a little more sleep and maybe someone would come after him. Men are always chiding us women wo-men about being forgetful, but I think they should review a few cases of where their own sex became be-came mighty forgetful. Take the instance of Frank Beckwith Sr., Ted, Sr. and Ted Jr. Harris. They went out Sunday to Marjum pass and points west to take pictures and had prepared for a big day of it including a large lunch. Came lunch time and they found to their chargin that they had forgotten the lunch and left it in the Chronicle Chron-icle at which realization they cut their picture taking short and hur-ied hur-ied home to clean the lunch up. Then there is the Stapley, Star-ley, Star-ley, and Hunsaker Watering and Road Flooding Society. (If Orlin doesn't mend his ways and get out of this column and stay out the Boss is going to charge him advertising adver-tising rates.) Clay forgets to tell Bill the water is coming; Bill forgets for-gets to tell Clay and Orlin he isn't going to water; and Orlin just forgets. for-gets. Anyway each time the water comes in the ditches a large lake appears as if by magic in front of the three homes and remains there until it is freshened with the next turn of water. What they ought to do in this beautification campaign is plant the street with watercress, because they water it enough. Homer U. Petersen is going to be awarded a silver palm by the Society So-ciety of Ditch Junipers That Did- n't Make It, because he has won his "spurs" twice now. The first time he was on his horse and tried to jump a drain and didn't make it; the second time he bet Clay Stapley $2 he could jump the creek in Oak City canyon. He picked the narrowest spot he could find and took off in a mighty effort and landed right in the middle of the creek knee deep, that is it would have been knee deep if the drouth hadn't struck Oak Creek. It only goes to show that Homer is no better than his horse, but by losing los-ing to Clay he kept the money in the firm anyway. Jack Pratt is going to quit the post office and start a fox farm. Monday morning he went out side and was confounded by seeing a dead horse by his front gate. He was in quite a dilimma until he realized that all he needed now was some foxes to eat it up and thus put a nice profit in his pocket. Of course, Meltire Workman will want to cut in on the deal because it was his horse that died. Up to this writing the horse is still there but not the foxes. Well that is a horse on Jack, Toots. |