The Sauk Centre herald. (Sauk Centre, Stearns County, Minn.) 1886-current, 1939-06-29
The Common-tater
-By Chuck Rattle
NOmads i'm the North

Nonads i'm the North
Was day when the arrival of gypsies-wth
their highwheeled covered wagons, their droves of
children and herds of horses-meant that a COM
munity tingled to something new. There were
strangers in town. Strangers who could trade horses
with the best trader in the communicated beat
him. Strangers who, the fearful tales among
the youngSter element, would kidnap younger broth
ers steal from homes. Dirty often ragged the pres
ence of these nomadic families-swarthy dressed
in bright colors-meant keep children out of their
way, it meant the time of the year to lock the
doors against the thieving of these rascals-these
nomads who came swinging to the north with the
coming of summer. can remember in spite of
perhaps with youngish perversity because Of
the tales that flew wildly about creeping, scared to
death, to the camp of the gypsies to view them at
close hand.
We don't get so ALFRED hetup over strangers
coming to town now; we're used to it. The
nomads still come. They still, many of them, bring
all their possessions They still come in temporary
luxury that would shame the best layout of the
old gypsy camp. The whole thing struck me when
I passed NelS Banners camp upon the west end of
Third the other evening. And there scattered about
in aimless fashion were the trailer houses of dozen
nomadic peoples who were taking their ease in the
evenings breeze. The kids played about scoot-
ing in and about the trailers as the gypsy lads
had done about the wagons. But these weren't
here to trade horses. They to trade dollars
for place to park, some things to eat, views
to 3. They've become welcome guests in any
community. Tables wheeled out of the SEEM
ingly small quarters food appeared-aI the COM
forts of home without its permanence. In the
morning they're gone to new place. Truly
nomads in the north.
And chatting with Ben Peckskamp the other
ayem who smoked and talked calmly the while rain
came down. EARNINGS gamble but an interest
ing game" he pointed out. Just at that moment
the rain pouring his downed hay with
hundreds of other farmers in this community.
Ben hasn't always been farmer He was fifteen
before he introduced to the soil when his father
quit the town for the farm. Some years after that
he tried railroading in various forms, other jobs
Always he worked for someone else. Eventually
farming spread its lure and its dragnet caught him
up. And he's been at it since. And there
are certain aspects of independence which he
wouldn't trade for princes lot Hours are long and
hard but they're in the open. Making things grow
holds a certain fascination witness the garden
putterers in towns who toss few handsful of
seeds each spring and 10, things begin to grow
I at once amazed at the calloused attitude these
farmers take to seasonal losses and amused when
I think how towners stamping on their hats
when a little rain upsets picnic plans OF course
the abundance of hay this season, making the rela-
lively low price for the feed, has something to do
with the absence of the filters 1 suppose. For
there twitters among them this springtlme
when the rains came late and the cold hampered
seeding. And it's uneasy stirring something
electric in the town here.
Pocket Portfolio-Oscar Lying, carefully wrapping
pieces of folding money in paper to keep it
separate Its the Mssus egg money" he smiled
at quzzical gazers who wondered over the odd
containers.
Thumbnails-And Harvey Oldham stopping in
for some goodbyes before returning to home in
Yakima. His first visit here in four years Harvey
pleased with the old town and his home, but
II didn't get much rest" he said Truly the
average vacatonists cause for grumbling
postal from San Francisco from couple of form
ers" Mary Margaret Barron and Cecile Markson
who write, Have been seeing San Francisco and
talking old times" And We'll bet that
merry session in which Sank Centre figured prom
inenty.
Mrs. Ella Christie will walk with any of them.
AZ correspondent the Herald, she the Pleas
ant Valley community farmers by keeping their
names in the news. And she doesn't hang on
the phone to get her items either. She walks
It's miles out to the farm where she first stops
and each Monday finds her trudging out to her old
community for the sprinkling of weekly items.
Of course there rides to be had now since she
knows where to look for them But the walking
in between farms" she says. There are no
rides there" . Sitting with these people, chatting
with them for short time they go about their
work, she CLEANS from them the items of the week.
Winter summer she walks. In winter only as far
she go, but in summer she covers the route
Its made me feel much better-al this walk