The Republican. [volume] (Oakland, Md.) 1877-current, 1932-08-18

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round rocks are soft. 1 thought they
were until yesterday evening, and as
result am propped up here by the
typewriter with reinforced cushions
under my feet. And when 1 walk it
is as if have eggs under them, and
the pains shoot clear to the roots of
my blond locks.
You know the old story of taking
the short cut to your destination in
order to save time, only to find that
the hardships over the short cut are
worse than the extra time spent in
going the roundabout way. If it's a
short cut across a field, the mad bull
always appears. 1t it's across water,
it's something else.
This time it was something else.
From the national guard camp at
Caddell, on Cheat river, to the Boss
Editors farm, by way of Kingwood
and perfectly good road, it measures
about miles. From the camp to the
farm Wit crossing Cheat River it is
about six hundred yards after cross
ing the rocky rifles of Cheat to the
tune of about 100 yards. Did 1 say
100 yards? 1t felt like 100 years to
those fiat feet of mine.
First, of course, somebody had to
make the suggestion that we take the
short cut. Efficiency expert and all
that. You know the type. Then next
the gullible type like myself who be-
1ieved what the other fellow said.
Next the detailed process. Took
off shoes, socks. Took look at water
and decided water couldn't come up
to knees. Rolled up pants to above
knees. Shoes in left hand. Dis
covered rocks to be hard and slippery.
Longing look back at shore. Desire
to have man who suggested trip with
in my grasp enters mind for first
time. More steps and more longing
looks back. Now in above knees and
pants appear droppy. Too late, there
they 60
One more look back. What is this
an Indian chief tells his warriors
A brave never gives up! Oh, all right,
l wasn't going to turn back now any,
way.
What 1 wouldn't give for an old
pair of shoes, also the fellow who sug-
gested this! Ow! There goes my big
toe. 1t couldn't possible be there yet,
but it might be at that. My feet were
numb long ago. And there's no relief
in the knowledge that we must recross
the same way. Boy, the sandy shore
ahead!
And now the return journey begins,
this time with the addition of nice
young pullet in my left hand, pants
off and rolled up under my shirt. Shirt
tucked under underwear. Part way
across the chicken goes under for a
count of four. Likewise wristwatch.
In bending over on that last slip the
water reaches my pants again re-
CARELESS of having them under my
shirt. Chicken gets chill. And we're
almost over now. Just three more
steps and there go my shoes down
for the count. Soaked to the gills.
might just as well have worn them.
Just like me to have finished some
thing, only to find out how it could
have been done easier, after it is too
late.
Maybe I ought to mention that two
others crossed the breakers with me-
Mrs. Scoop herself and none other
than Sparky Casteel. And did they
grippe as much as l did! Did their feet
hurt as much as mine did? No.
At the movies the other night some
mug kept coughing down my neck.
AS soon as 1 could 1 moved to another
seat only to come away with a wad
of chewing cud stretched over my
trouser seat. 1t seems, wherever go
lately, get it in one place or another.
| 49,
Last week a mans son had the
unique distinction of taking his
fathers second bride on her honey
moon while the groom stayed at home
and attended to business at Deer
Park.
The days of the week were named
for gods and goddesses of olden times.
For instance, Wednesday for Wooden,
Thursday for Thor, Saturday for
Saturn. Last week the Democrat
was undecided about one day because
some Oaklanders spent Tuesday" in
Johnstown. Just whose day is it any
way?
political platform, like steps on a
motor coach, are used to get in on
and not to stand on" said the anti
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