The Republican., 1933-10-26

written IN Inc American FreSS, a
monthly magazine for newspaper pub
fishers, under the caption 81 was a
Small-Town Columnist." He has my
sympathy to some degree, and be-
cause of that Pm giving my space
this week to his thoughts. Here it's:
at was really all my own fault, the
trouble bungled into by attempting
to conduct column of gossip in a
small-town weekly newspaper. The
boss started it, true enough, but his
idea was for me to write half dozen
or so items weekly on serious SUBJ
! jects such as he had seen in column
called Random Shots at Life in a
California daily.
"At first the "In the Open" column
was harmless comment on safe sub
jects-a weekly thousand words that
probably no one read save the men,
bers of my own family. There was the
rub. l craved to be, if not an Infiu-
ence, at least Someone Often Dis
cussed.
Before 1 was finished, it was all of
that. And more.
"The transition was gradual and
took place without my knowing
what was going on. Even now it is
only when l compare clippings of the
last few In the Open columns ever
to see the light Of day with the first
dozen or so published in the Messen-
ger that l perceive what a lengthy
stride took.
"For that matter, the first column
to lead me into unpleasant circumstan-
ces was one meant seriously-even
artistically. 1t was description of a
square dance held in the community
where 1 had spent my childhood.
l Was POpular-at First
"The1e was some excuse for me. 1t
was the first square dance l had ever
seen, and it enthralled me nightly.
| The dancers accepted me as one of
themselves when l told them my name
for they had known my parents and
some went SO far as to say they re-
membered me. At any rate, they all
joined in plying me with drinks and
offers to get me the prettiest girl in
the house for a dancing partner. The
drinks 1 accepted, but the dancing l
declined, preferring to be an onlooker.
ALREADY, thoughts for my next
weeks column were. taking shape
within my mind. / would describe the
complete abandon of the dancers to
the whim of the fiddles' wild whine.
l would tell how they used every mus
Gle of their bodies in the performance,
how the dust arose from the floor and
filled the room, how the caller of the
dance stood with his curly hair falling
into his face, the light of the occasion
shining in his eyes, his voice rising
and falling with the cadence of the
music as he issued understanding in
structions to the dancers.
"Oh, this would be a peach of a
column, one that would cause every
body in town to gasp over the writing
ability of that next to the oldest
Mooney boy Uh-huh!
81 wrote the column, it was publish
ed, and in glow of pride 1 attended
another square dance in the same COM
munity the following week.
"No one came running to meet me,
uttering words of enthusiastic well
come, though light was shining from
every window in the house. Useless
to stand on formality with these folks,
l meditated, as 1 stepped inside the
door. Directly beside it stood boy
with whom 1 had gone to school. He
just looked at me. Better take my
advice he said, 'and get going while
the going's good
"Queer fellow, 1 thought, and went
into the next room. Everybody was
standing in little group, in the CEN
ter of which was the man who had
called the previous dance. He was
talking loudly and waving his arms.
AS entered, he quieted suddenly. The
group moved apar tand he came to;
ward me.
"'Hello! yelped. 'H'y'ra?' jocose-
ly, you know.
CHI growled the man. What's
the idea you comm out here again 4?
Gonna write some more smart-alec
pieces for the paper, huh? Not much
you hain't.'
"'Why,' 1 stammered, 'why-?'
"'Don't say you didn't write it! We
seen your name at the top of it an
we know dang we'll you did. He'll,
we thought you was our friend on ac-
count yore folks ust to live here and
you was raised here
"T am your FRIEND 1 replied as
rapidly as could. I didn't like this at