The Leon reporter. (Leon, Iowa) 1887-1930, 1907-03-28
WARNER WRITES AGAIN

WAkNEk WRITES AGAIN
More "reminiscences of Early School
Days in Leon by Frank P.Warner,
One of the Old Boys.
Florence, Colo, March 8, 1907.
| EDITOR REPORTER:- From the number
of letters have received it seems that
the stirring up of old Decatur county
memories were both general and pleas
ant. l am competent to testify in the
matter jus, from the pleasureable sensa-
tions experienced reading Addie Lnn-
beck's splendid letter in THE REPORTER.
AS Lige Freeman writes from Guthrie,
Oklahoma, one incident will bring to
mind that have been we'll nigh for
gotten. One or two things are brought
to my mind that | never will forget.
Honest, think auntie Lunbeck, Adde'S
mother, could make pie, cake, cookies
and doughnuts in a way that was just
about the poetry of pastry" She liked
to see boys eat and there never was a
kid in that region in the old days who
would wait for a second invitation when
it was dinner time at her house.
/ By the way, after my last letter was
mailed | suddenly remembered that |
had forgotten to name at least half my
old schoolmates, some my own cousins,
some in my own classes. But, as said,
write in bed just as matters come to
mind and of course can make no pre-
tence to accuracy or completeness.
could amend my list very materially
but dare not start in for fear l may
make matters worse.
| ! note your letter from M. A. Mills.
"Aleck" used to be my old mentor and
friend. used to get him to help me
with an occasional love letter and allow
him to criticise my poetry. AS critic
he was generally kind and indulgent,
but he floored me once. had lotr K
trouble fixing up and Strengthening out
a sonnet but finally got through and
submitted it to "Aleck." After going
over it about the third time he scowled,
looked at me, bit his tobacco and re2
marked, very slowly and dryly: really,
Frank, it is first rate and there is only
one fault to be found with it. whats
that?" asked. sit is too deep for the
average readers comprehension" That
settled it. l had fear that maybe
didn't understand it myself, so l burnt
it. | may add, en- passant, that the
lesson was good one. l have burned
several lunches of similar trash that
have scrubbed from time to time since
thus humbling my pride to save my rep
utation.
Prof. Lewis taught school just east
of the Sales house. The soldiers We're
home on furlough. At noon while the
professor was at dinner the soldier boys
used to drop into the school house to
dance with the big girls. Dance? Yes,
indeed. They would whistle and sing
and "call" their own quadrilles and
dance them, too, but church people
swooped down on Lewis and made him
put a stop to it, which he did The
boys called as usual but soon found
there was to be no dancing. All right.
While some of them were arguing the
case, "Big Jim Harrow" hooked a pint
of whiskey which comrade had just
brought from Tuttles grocery and sur
reptitiously poured most of it into the
pitcher of water thaG sat on the pro-
fessor's desk. School was called. AS
usual the professor proceeded to take
gulp of water, first thing. With soft
smile Of recognition (for Lewis kept
whiskey in his house and lost his posi-
tion on account of it afterwards,) he
gazed at the big girls and at the soldier
visitors present-tasted the mixture
again, then remarked, with the dignity
that only small man can assume: "ln
Africa they mix water and whiskey,
wherewitb, they inveigle, entrap and
capture the ape, the baboon and the
monkey. To entrap individuals of a
higher order of intelligence, however,
you certainly would expect to use
whiskey of some degree of merit, this
1tuff is about the worst ever saw and
S have seen some that was awful" So
saying, he emptied the pitcher at the
the front door, sent couple of boys
after fresh water and went on calling
his classes. If it had been Prof. Hast
ings, peace to his ashes, there would
have been enough excitement there in
five minutes to last the town two weeks.
AS it was, the boys felt ashamed of their
whiskey and were more than glad to
| drop it--with the professor one point
ahead.
| Remember? l can't do anything but
remember. l remember hearing Uncle
John Givens play an accordian in Sny-
ders tailor shop for lot of those same
soldiers, then pretend to pass the hat
while they howled for more.
| remember Alec Updegraff was post
master; the mail came on stage about
ten at night and we used to stand
around on the sidewalk, outside, Wait
ing until midnight for letters and news
from "the 'front.'" At about that time
the first house | ever saw burn was
Uncle Jake Warmers, the next was John
r. Wharton's.
! remember, as if only yesterday,
when Capt. Burton's company went
away and the other companies that
followed. 1t was awful on Saturdays,
to have to chop Sundays wood when
you could hear the fife ard drums call
| ing the recruits out to drill and see the