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Show the "Heartatorium" of the Salt Lake Telegram paid a recent visit to the "Greatest Copper Camp," the editor of the "News" has been persistently tagging her to give our readers her "Impressions "Impres-sions of Bingham," but, friends or not, she evidently is not "letting "let-ting the cat out of the bag," and is not making enemies. But the fact that she has already promised prom-ised to pay another visit to the camp in the near future is, we believe, ample proof she is desirous desir-ous of seeing more, and may be of people that I had never seen before; that I wondered what kept the houses from falling off the walls; that I felt a strange sense of great . lengths and heights, minus breadth; that in the hypnosis I found myself wondering quite out loud if the chickens and cows that I saw had not been especially built on long narrow lines, the better to fit into this plan of Mother Nature? Na-ture? , "What if 'I don't want my, host and hostess to know that I wondered secretly if they, too, were becoming a part of the "in- sensible . rock,' when I asked ', them at breakfast what in the ; world was the occasion of the ; terrible fuss going on during the 1 night, only to have them look ; wearily at each other and ask in ; patient tones; 'Did you hear any- ' thing, dear? I didn't.' "What if I'd tell you the truth ; as indicated in the foregoing? ; The answer is, I'd never get in- vited again, and besides, you'd think me a poor reporter. And ; since I like you all a lot and j want to come again; and since ' the truth about me being a bad reportetr would hurt, I just ; won't say a word. So there. I know my lines: 'Silence is gold- ! en," and even though we are ; very old friends, I refuse to let you mislead me. 1 "Nope; nary a word will I write." (Miss Kaye was the guest of i Mr. and Mrs. Neil O'Donnell at the Bourgard Apartments when ;j she visited here.) ' 4 induced in the near future to give the dear "old camp a real boost. "What was my first impression of liingham? "As you ask it, I gasp again, and over me comes that very strangeness that possessed me as I dismounted from the stage on my recent visit to you: a feeling feel-ing of overwhelming desire to see my surroundings, accompanied accompan-ied by the inability to look in any direction but UP. "As I sit me back and review my sojourn in your midst, with all the serenity of looking backward, back-ward, I fear it is just a shade shamefacedly. I think I feel a little guilty that I I, 'who am sometimes called the champion question answerer, wouldn't have been able to answer a single question about the physical aspect as-pect of Bingham until now. And now after letting it all be such a surprise to me, I answer mostly most-ly in gasps and interjections, wearing threadbare the first statement I made in Bingham: 'I didn't think it would be like this,' which, being overheard, prompted you as a thoroughly alert member of the Fourth Estate, Es-tate, to suggest this article. "So now, with this assignment in hand, I query me: 'What, oh what, am I to write? What can I, a seasoned writer of heart-balm, heart-balm, do when my impressions, if truthfully expressed, would make me seem a primitive little big-eyed wonder child, out on my first exploration of things foreign to my little world? What if I don't want you all to know that this is the first time I ever saw a mining town? What if I hoped to keep secret the fact that I thought I'd see in the far-famed far-famed Bingham a beautiful, shiny, broad-streeted little city, complacent there in the solitude of the hills, proud that she's copper cop-per lined, haughty because she's copper bound, luxurious in her own rich grandeur? What if I'm a little abashed now at the fact that even after I arrived and found I was still in the work-a-day world, I thought you'd stop that horrid, world breaking blasting at least during- Miss Kathleen Kaye of the Salt Lake Telegram Refuses Since Miss Kathleen Kaye of the night that you'd not wholly ignore the fact that you were entertaining a timid guest from a less boisterous world? What if I blush as I think of how I called my hostess during the night to join me in my front bedroom (practically over the street), to tell her there must be a riot and the troops called out for something, only to discover that somewhere, somehow, the world was 'changing shifts?' What if I don't want to confess to you all that I thought your town too quaint and funny for words that I saw some kinds |
