The Coolidge examiner., 1931-12-18

Usage was not familiar with the
sculpture of Krbecek, but it was
impressed with the price of 1t. Half
a million dollars for statue!
Certainly" said the committee,
calmly. He's the best there is.
Half a million is nothing for his
stuff. He wouldn't kick a pebble
for less than quarter of mil
lion"
do you suppose he'll do her jas
a pioneer woman in a sunbonnet!
Holding little Gin by the hand,
huh? Or maybe in a covered
wagon"
Sabra received Krbecek in sim
pie (draped) dress. He turned out
TO be a quiet, rather snuffy little
Pole in eyeglasses, who looked
more like a tailor-a little" tailor
than a sculptor. His eye roamed
about the living room of the house
on Kihekik. The old wooden house
had been covered with plaster in
deep warm shade much the color
Of the native clay; the gimcrack
porch and the cupOlaS had been
torn away and great square
veranda and terrace built at the
side, away from the street and
screened by a thick hedge and an
iron grille. 1t was now, in fact,
much the house that Yancey had
planned when Sabra first built it
years ago. The old pieces of ma
hogany and glass and silver were
back, triumphant again over the
plush and brocade with which Sa-
bra had furnished the house when
new. The old, despised since pio-
neer days. was again the fashion
in Usage. There was the DeGrasse
silver; the cake dish with the care
free cupids, the mantelpiece figures
of china.
"You are very comfortable here
in Oklahoma" said Masja Krbecek.
He pronounced it syllable by sylla-
BILE. painfully. Oklahoma.
ut is a very simple home" Sa-
bra replied, compared to the 9TH
er places you have seen here
aboutS."
at is the home of n good wom-
an" said Krbecek, dryly.
Sabra was a trifie startled, but
she said thank you, primly.
You are a congress member, you
are editor of q great newspaper,
you are well known throughout the
country. You American women,
you are really amazing"
Again Sabra thanked him.
Tell me. will you, my dear lady,"
he went on, "some of the many in
teresting things about your life
and that of your husband, this Yam
cey Cravat who so far preceded
his time"
So Sabra told him. Somehow, as
she talked, the years rolled back,
curtain after curtain, into the past.
The Run. Then they were cross
ing the prairie, there was the first
glimpse of the mud wallow that
was Usage, the church meeting in
the tent, the Pegler murder, the
outlaws, the early years Of the pa
per, the Indians, oil. She talked
very we'll in her clear, decisive
voice. At his request she showed
him the time-yellowed photographs
of Yancey, of herself. Krbecek
listened. At the end, 1T is touch
ing" he said. "It makes me weep"
Then he kissed her hand and went
away, taking one or two of the old
photographs with him.
The statue of the Spirit of the
Oklahoma Pioneer was unveiled a
year later, with terrific ceremonies.
1t was a heroic figure of Yancey
Cravat stepping forward with that
light graceful stride, in the high
heeled Texas star boots, the skirts
of the Prince Albert billowing be-
hind with the vigOr of his move
ments, the sombrero atop the great
menacing buffalo head, one beauti-
full hand resting lightly on the
weapon in his twogun holster. Be
hind him, one hand just touching
his shoulder for support, stumbled
the weary, blanketed figure of an
Indian.