The Ely miner. [volume] (Ely, Minn.) 1895-1986, 1925-09-11

Scotch tongue which he reserved for
moments Of emotion, "it's long road
he's starting on, and a hard one, too
or he'll no be like the rest O. u.s."
My mother secured me well and
dressed me in clean new suit and
took my cheeks between her hands
and kissed me, and told me to work
hard and grow up good man like
my father. AT the gate I met John,
and together we started down the
turnpike of life.
l spent the day becoming accus-
toned to my new environment, and
marveling over certain bald spot on
the teachers head which shone re-
splendent when the light struck it
certain way, and wondering what pos
sible advantage it could be to a To-
connective engineer to know that A
had two slanting legs tied together
| in the middle.
Two years later Marjorie and Jean
started going to school, and we were
proud boys indeed as We led them up
the aisle to the masters desk.
In those days, when large families
were still considered proper, two chill
dren were a comparatively small i'm
pediment; indeed, it was commonly
said among the townspeople that the
smallness of my fathers family had
made it possible for him to pay for
and clear his farm. At any rate my
mother was person of leisure by
comparison with neighbor women who
We're trying to clothe. clean, and dis
cipline ten or twelve children apiece.
The Lanes were in the same happy
circumstances as ourselves, and be-
ing also our nearest neighbors, con-
siderable friendship had sprung up be-
tween the two families. This developed
as we children grew older and had
mutual interests in studies and sports
Jackie was Jack now-and Jean
often came over to our house on a
winters evening, bringing their school
books, and the four of us sat about
our big kitchen table porting over our
studies or throwing or intercepting
furtive glances between Jack and
Marjorie, and, 1 may confess, between
Jean and Frank. Jean was fair, with
large blue eyes and clear pink cheeks
and lips that always made me think of
roses. They seemed always as delicate
and tremulous as a rose leaf after
rain.
AT eight o'clock we would close
our books, and mother would say,
Marjorie, you may bring up a basin
of apples" or perhaps it would be a
dozen ears of roasting corn, and we
would sit about the fireplace, MUNICH
ing in great happiness. Then we
would have game of blind mans
buff, in which I had a way of catch
ing Jean, or button, button, who's got
the button? or Observation-Disclosures
And at nine Jack and Jean would
leave for home, and we would
go with them to their gate, and !
would help Jean where the drifts were
deep. And Marjorie and would walk
back arm in arm. and she would talk
an unnecessary lot about Jack.
jeans first poem was written about
this time. She developed it one night
while ostensibly busy at her studies,
and slipped 1t into my hand when
we parted in front of her house. l
hurried home, but my mother and
Marjorie sat so close to the lamp that
| had no opportunity to read it until I
went upstairs to bed. Then |
smoothed the crumpled little sheet
and read
When I am old
And very tall
hope my name
Will be Mrs. Hall.
I lay awake for hours that night,
joyously piecing together bits of
rhyme, but l was no versifier, and had
to be content with prose. 1 put it
in very matter-of-fact form on my
slate, which I managed next day to
leave on jeans desk:
your proposal is accepted-F H."
When / was twelve Granny Lane
died, and after that Mr. and Mrs.
Lane often came over, too. AS we
the restless clicking of our mothers
knitting needles, while our fathers
fought over their checker board in a
silence broken only by an outburst
of triumph upon some clever strategy,
or of chagrin when some deep-laid
scheme had gone agley. Or some
times the men would lay aside the
board and, turning their chairs to-
ward the fire, with their pipes well
Lit and glowing in the bowl, would
begin to recount tales of their youth
when they were part of the locust
army of ak men that had swept
through the land and In some strange
way had left standing the great tree
at the end Of our farm. Then lessons