The Topeka state journal. [volume] (Topeka, Kansas) 1892-1980, 1913-04-14
says UNCLE CAV


together in a cafe the other day.
Whenever Old Doc has a honin' for
city grub" which is not often, he
comes to town to see me. We had
reached dessert upon this particular
occasion and my guest had ordered
apple pie.
Don't do it, Doc" urged. You
know not what you do
But I'm hungry for apple pie" said
mot for this kind said I. Chefs
don't know how to make pie"
But Doc would not be warned. He
repeated his order and admonished the
SuperciliouS tip-taker to bring a Dig
hunk OF cheese"
Later Doc surveyed the huge drab
slab of diScOuraged-looking fruit and
dough, cut off bit with his fork,
take it away" 1 laughed, but Doc,
as solemn as an owl, launched one of
his homilies.
you're correct he said. you're
dead right. Chefs just naturally don't
know how to make pie. But that amt
half of the horrible truth. Nobody
seems to know how to make apple pie
in these degenerate days. There's a
heap more to real apple pie than ap-
pies cooked and seasoned just right
and crust just brown enough and just
crisp enough. L admit that perfect
apple pie, speaking extraordinarily,
is marvel and one of the wonders of
the world, but that merely begins to
tell the story
1.-THE apple pie days are gone, and
with 'em the apple pie ideals. 1 guess
Pm getting old. I'm behind the times.
dead in the shell, crossgrained and
distempered. I plead guilty to any
other indictment of that kind you'll
bring against me. But just the same
there's a little right on my side.
This country lost something big
when it lost the kind of women that
could make real apple pie, and the
kind of men who didn't know any
thing about any other kind of des-
sert. Close your eyes for minute
and let your mind drift back to
Puckyhuddle as it was in the days
when you and L were boys together.
Can't you see that trim and youthful,
ruddy-faced, sweet and happy crea-
ture that was your mother surveying
with pride that smiling row of apple
pies on the top pantry shelf Can't
you see them, brown and juicy, cut in
to accurate quarters, waiting for the
ecstatic moment when your father
would ask, Mother, isn't there some
pie for these hungry young 'uns?
What a joy it was to sink your
teeth into a piece of that pie! How
the sweet and cinnamoned fruit start
ed the anticipatory waters of the
mouth! How the crust melted against
your palate! Apple pie was a Words
worth poem-it was thing of beauty,
a joy in anticipation, in the mouth.
and in memory. There was not spell
of indigestion in a dozen of 'em;
neither did they jade the palate nor af-
flict the conscience.
They were made by women who
sang over their work, who were help !
meets and who lived to enrich the |
world with goodly children, who cared |
little for fashions and much for the |
virtues, who were as good and clean |
and pure in thought and deed-as ap-
pie piei Their pleasures were of the |
simple, whole-hearted kind. They |
knew little about ragtime, but much |
of lullabies and children's prayers. |
They are ignorant of the one-step, the |
Texas Tommy and the bunny hug, but |
they knew their Bibles and their du- |
ties. They thought nothing of higher /
thought and queer religions, and suf- |
fragette movements, but they were
mothers in Israel, who lived in the |
fear of the Lord and moved in beauty |
and obedience in the sight of men.
I'VE still exalted the solid virtues
and in our old-fashioned ignorance we
had not learned to maudlin over the |
froth and scum of life.
Good old daysNapple pie days.
Nobody knows how to make apple pie
in these times and if anybody did,
only few old codgers like you and
me, would know how to appreciate it. /
Knows the bow same to S fHken NOBODY assG,
clean, sane, apple pie life full Of nat
ural usefulness and sweetness. In
stead, we order fraises Sarah Bern
hardt, which Is the newest way to
spoil Strawberries, and they are
brought to us by a man who lived in
a stable in Paris before he came to
America to terrorize and corrupt his
betters. With the maltreated straw
berries, he brings US our ideals, SINH
larly debauched. Take that thing you
have miscalled apple pie away, waiter
TAKE IT AWAY'"
OF course old doc is a pessimist,
but right down deep in your country
born, apple pie-loving heart, can you
blame him?
That tramp talks funny, ma'am. He
saws he castigated his itinerary from Bos- ]
ton. He only means he beat his way"