roundings. “And what was that tragic miss?" he asked interested. “ "fivern’t a tragic miss, but the afiair was tragic," he answered as he eyed Lory from under his battered straw hat. “I’m listening,” Lory prompted. “Catfish” sighed, and shook himself straight in his chair. Knocking the ashes from... Show moreroundings. “And what was that tragic miss?" he asked interested. “ "fivern’t a tragic miss, but the afiair was tragic," he answered as he eyed Lory from under his battered straw hat. “I’m listening,” Lory prompted. “Catfish” sighed, and shook himself straight in his chair. Knocking the ashes from his pipe he refilled, and puffed slowly in quiet till a huge bank of smoke half obscured him. He sat leaning forward as though thinking out the details, and then leaned back comfortably and began. “Yup! Grandpappy sure ’nough missed once, and like I said, it was tragic, but right comical too. But mind ya, it’s the only miss I knows of. It was a few years back, about the time the Steamer Jackson got itself hung up out on the towhead there in the river. We had a sheriff, a right re- spectable sort 0 fella about that time, and he used ta live in that big white house you passed up the levee a piece the other day. It used ta belong ta old Colonel Wright, who won it from Colonel Shaffer in a game 0 stud poker in back 0 ‘Muskrat’s’- place at the end 0 the street. Seems like as if he won it from Colonel Taylor in a hoss race, and it plum near busted the old Colonel ta see that hoss 0’ his lose. Just whar he got it I can’t say, cause that was afore our time. Well, like I says, the Sheriff was livin’ thar in that house about that time. “Then thar was Hank, a big fella who was biggern you, cause you ain’t so very big. He was a trapper from back in the bayue, and he’d come ta town once in a while an’ get his self tolerably drunk, and the sheriff’d have ta store him away for a couple a days. Course he an’t got nothin’ ta do with Granpapy missin’, ’cept he was George’s partner, an he’s the fella I’m getting ta. George, he was big, too . . . biggern Hank even, but a right handsome sort 0 fella. He was what ya’d call a ladies’ man. Yup! he sure was hand- some all right, more so than Hank. Course Hank weren’t so handsome, not specially since he got them two front teeth 0’ his ajar’d loose in the settlement fight. It sure was right funny ta see him grin . . . sort 0 reminds me o a rab- 10 —THE DIAL Show less
The Escapade of 6 Cup Yesterday I was just a poor neglected cup watching the world from the kitchen shelf; this morning I occupy a place of importance on a sturdy table. You think this is a strange place for a cup to be, you say? Well, maybe so; but I over- heard the girls remark last night that... Show moreThe Escapade of 6 Cup Yesterday I was just a poor neglected cup watching the world from the kitchen shelf; this morning I occupy a place of importance on a sturdy table. You think this is a strange place for a cup to be, you say? Well, maybe so; but I over- heard the girls remark last night that they were going on a hike at six this morning, and naturally they need a cup. Hmm! it’s five—thirty now, and neither of the two have made a stir in their beds. I bet they’ll sleep right through. Whoops! What was that? It sounded like thunder. Might have known, though, that it was the alarm clock . . . and look at those girls dress. Hmm . . . guess my hunch was wrong that time. Ouch! These girls are without mercy. The idea! Stuf- fing me in a bag with a lot of other dishes! Hey! Who punctured me? Oh! it’s that fresh fork; he certainly looks malicious enough. Here we go. I’m being shifted from hand to hand, and I hope they don’t get too careless. Hope I haven’t put on weight of late. They have no reason to complain though. If they were in a bag the way I am, then I’d feel sorry for them . . . but as long as they have fresh air to breathe . . . never! “Riverside” did they say? I’ve been there before. Ah! we’re here already. But I do wish they’d be a little more careful in setting me down. I bruise easily. There’s that fresh fork glaring at me. Guess he’s never been with re- spectable people before! As if I could help that he was al- ways getting tangled up in my handle. Maybe the old flirt has forgotten his company manners. If I couldn’t remem- ber better than that I’d go stick myself into a pickle. Well, perhaps I’d forget my handle if it wasn’t fastened on me. Ah, out of the bag at last. Guess I’ll take a deep breath. Ouch! My throat! What got into it? 000, that smoke! 26 _THE DIAL Show less
Back Home An old man shuffled slowly down the narrow country road in the baking mid-morning sun. The dust rose in small clouds around his feet. Leaning heavily on an old crooked cane, he paused in the shade of some overhanging branches of an oak tree, removed his battered hat, wiped beads of... Show moreBack Home An old man shuffled slowly down the narrow country road in the baking mid-morning sun. The dust rose in small clouds around his feet. Leaning heavily on an old crooked cane, he paused in the shade of some overhanging branches of an oak tree, removed his battered hat, wiped beads of perspiration from his deeply wrinkled brow, and peered intently down the road to the main highway. He started slowly down the dusty road again. A new light seemed to brighten those feeble eyes as a car drew up and stopped at the mailbox by the highway. The mailman placed something in the box, waved a greeting, and drove on. “News from the young ones!” the old man said to him- self as he hurried on as fast as his shuffling feet could carry him. His hand shook as he eagerly opened the box and with- drew a letter. A look of disappointment spread over his face. His eagerness disappeared. The faded blue eyes seemed to grow more dim as he read on the envelope, “Re- turn in five days to Sears Roebuck and Co.” OLAF G. JOHNSON, ’39. ‘k 5:? Resignation Our faith must have a wisdom That will know God’s love though it may come Through grief and pain; He speaketh deepest when My head is low And I must listen to The silent rain. MARGARET CHRISLOCK, ’40. 32 __THE DIAL Show less
24 We Bay’s PM I know that I’ve been bad today, I feel it way down deep. So I just thought I’d tell you this Before I went to sleep. I jerked the kitty’s tail, I did it twice today! I tied it in a knot And then I ran away. She didn’t seem to care so much, So maybe it’s all right. Don’t think I... Show more24 We Bay’s PM I know that I’ve been bad today, I feel it way down deep. So I just thought I’d tell you this Before I went to sleep. I jerked the kitty’s tail, I did it twice today! I tied it in a knot And then I ran away. She didn’t seem to care so much, So maybe it’s all right. Don’t think I really hurt her, ’Twouldn’t tie so very tight. I pinched my sister while she slept, Hardly a pinch at all, But how was I supposed to know That she’d wake up and bawl?! And then I had to play with her. I always get the blame! Things looks as though it’s mutiny, I think it’s all a shame! But since I'm awful sleepy, Guess I’d better say ‘goodnite’. God, bless my Mom and Daddy, . . . . . . Sister too, cause . . ., she’s all right. RUTH ERICKSON, ’41. iii“? What a pity we spend our lives trying to convince our- selves we are doing good. MARION LUND, ’39. 30 __T H E D I A L Show less
Just \X/e Two It was at sunset. We walked alone, together, just God and I. I had asked Him to go with me. We had no de- finite destination . . . we wandered on. We held hands. He looked down at me and smiled. Nothing was said—there was no need to say anything. We chose a river path. It was not... Show moreJust \X/e Two It was at sunset. We walked alone, together, just God and I. I had asked Him to go with me. We had no de- finite destination . . . we wandered on. We held hands. He looked down at me and smiled. Nothing was said—there was no need to say anything. We chose a river path. It was not wide enough for two -—He bade me walk ahead. Listen! It was His feathery flock. “My God, how wonderful Thou art.” He placed His hand upon my shoulder as we listened—I had no strength to walk on, it was too delicately sacred. The new born blades of grass bending—brushing, against one an- other lulled forth in nocturnal tenderness a hymn of hushed, whispering hope. The hallowed air was pregnant with that Inner Presence. We moved . . . closer. The birds were en- circled in the branches of a little pine tree. The setting western sun had cast an auburn halo around the choir, for it was such as they continued to sing, the heavens wept, gently. The rain was falling reverently, in tenderest sobs. The breeze moved with caressive compassion to wipe the tears away. After the concert was over, they asked Him to lead in Scripture reading and prayer. He chose my favorite pas- sage, Psalm 46:10, for He knew it was such. “Be still and know that I am God.” And we were still before Him. Utter silence . . . deeply Reconsecration. Our helpless- ness . . O, Lord, have mercy. For I knew that He was God. There was a silent benediction. And we walked on . . . together, just God and I. * Times flies, but why should I? RUTH ERICKSON, '41. 28 —THE DIAL Show less
And now Floppit was dead. . . . A month ago when Daddy had said, “We’ll have to kill the kitten Joe gave you, dear. He can’t eat yet," the child had taken him in her arms and fed him with a spoon. She had prepared a tiny bed for him in a box, and every night she saw that Floppit was snug before... Show moreAnd now Floppit was dead. . . . A month ago when Daddy had said, “We’ll have to kill the kitten Joe gave you, dear. He can’t eat yet," the child had taken him in her arms and fed him with a spoon. She had prepared a tiny bed for him in a box, and every night she saw that Floppit was snug before she slept. It was she who playfully named him Floppit. He had become a play- mate and a friend for the lonely child. Tenderly she cared for him, and joyfully they played together. The parents marvelled, and rejoiced to see the child so happy. Then came the day when she complained, “Mother, Flop- pit doesn’t want to play with me.” And she noticed re- proachfully that his lovely white coat grew matted and dirty, and Floppit cared not at all. Tearfully she begged, in vain, to eat. When mother said gently, “You must not handle Floppit, dear. He’s sick, you see,” her soft brown eyes filled slowly, and her lips quivered, but she said nothing. She knew. After that she never touched him when they were near, but when she was alone with him she held his little form close and whispered passionate words of comfort and love. At night she said her usual prayer and added, “And God, please make Floppit be well tomorrow.” But tomorrow found Floppit more haggard. Finally, unable to raise his head he lay still. The child’s plead- ing he answered With a dull look. At sundown he was dead. 22 ___THE DIAL Show less
Augustine,” and was hopping about with the teakettle in one hand and the stove poker in the other until Grand- pappy told her to stop. Then she trotted off to the guest parlor to bring out some ice-cold chairs for us to sit on. All at once she remembered it was time for dinner and began lamenting... Show moreAugustine,” and was hopping about with the teakettle in one hand and the stove poker in the other until Grand- pappy told her to stop. Then she trotted off to the guest parlor to bring out some ice-cold chairs for us to sit on. All at once she remembered it was time for dinner and began lamenting the fact that she had only nine potatoes on boiling. She and Grandpappy had had chicken for Sun- day dinner and all through the week, but unfortunately it was all gone now. Then the old black cookstove wouldn’t heat, and when she was going to fire in more fuel, Grand- pappy remonstrated, “No, no, then I only have to go and haul more coal.” Next the table leaves had to be carried down from some remote convenient place, and Granny’s best tablecloth brought out; this called for an historical account on her part. While there was much mathematical computation as to how old it was, the nine potatoes happily boiled away on the stove until they had lost all signs of any individuality. After much bustling about, dinner was ready and all was peaceful until after the blessing had been asked, when up bobbed Granny—she never could sit still and eat when she had company. The nine potatoes had no more been passed than she started them off on another merry chase around the table. “My goodness, ‘mine kind,’ you must eat some- thing,” she would keep on saying even after the third help- mg. Finally she sat down as if to at last begin eating; but no—she began an expostulation on how she had caught cold in her neck while hanging up clothes on washday, and how Grandpappy had lost his hearing in the same enter- prise. He not being able to hear naturally couldn’t dispute her word, but could very nicely carry on his owu conversa— tion at the same time. He was complaining about his twelve hens who never sat on the nest to lay eggs, but to keep their feet warm. Granny, immediately rising to the de- fense of the hens, bobbed up again to bring in a small bas- ketful of eggs from the pantry. Grandpappy vowed she had either been saving them up on the sly or had borrowed some from the neighbors. THE DIAL 5 Show less
Of Education I believe that education is the process by which one learns to live effectively and harmoniously with one’s fellow be- ings. True education is not learning the chemical formula for sulphuric acid, the relative importance of Milton, and the functions of an obtuse triangle. These... Show moreOf Education I believe that education is the process by which one learns to live effectively and harmoniously with one’s fellow be- ings. True education is not learning the chemical formula for sulphuric acid, the relative importance of Milton, and the functions of an obtuse triangle. These things are valu- able only if through them we are able to live a life that is of some value to others. Learning how to live is really of far greater fundamental importance. If we do not give others a share in that which we have learned, We might just as well have stayed ignorant. What value is that knowledge which we acquire and then store back in our brain cells some place where it has not an op- portunity to enrich and to ennoble life? If we discover something beautiful and then show it to others, not only will they benefit from it, but we ourselves will gain a bless- ing. What use would some of Edison’s ideas have been, for instance, if he had not shared them with the world? Our ideas may not be so great that they will revolutionize the world, but they will in all probability benefit ourselves and others if we express them. A golden rule policy may be applied in the field of knowl- edge as well as in other phases of life. It is more blessed to give than to receive. It is a wonderful experience to learn, but it seems more wonderful yet to be able to share with others something that we have acquired along life’s highway. I believe that we even receive more out of open- ing some one’s eyes to a particular beauty of nature, for in- stance, than that person himself gets out of the new revela- tion of life. There is a certain undeniable joy and satis- faction in the assurance that we have aided some one in his search for life. Why do we go to college? Probably all would answer unanimously, “To get an education.” What then is an edu- cation, and are we accomplishing our purpose? Certainly THE DIAL__—_ 15 Show less
v-vw Granpappy A ‘Eale of the £ower (River If one didn’t know better, one would certainly believe that the huge yellow moon was going to set itself in the middle of the lazy river. But knowing better did not re- move any of the romantic powers it possessed. In fact, all of the Shanty folks were... Show morev-vw Granpappy A ‘Eale of the £ower (River If one didn’t know better, one would certainly believe that the huge yellow moon was going to set itself in the middle of the lazy river. But knowing better did not re- move any of the romantic powers it possessed. In fact, all of the Shanty folks were out on their floating porches en- joying the quiet and cool of the beautiful summer evening. It was the mysterious quiet, and the magnolia scented cool- ness that can be found only along the Southern bends of the South Mississippi. With the Shanties tied up close un- der the flowering Cottonwoods, the River Folks could hear the giant bull frogs booming loudly back in the bayue, and the sound of the sleepy breezes stirring among the willows, and they thought this was the most glorious night they’d ever seen. Now and then the low ripple of laughter would mark the progress of some courtship, or the low murmur of voices, and twanging rattle of a Banjo drifted from floating struc- tures told of the peace with which these people lived. Every- one was out sitting. The women sat and knitted as they talked of the latest gossip that came up from New Orleans or Natchez. The men were sitting too, smoking or chew- ing, but mainly doing both, . . . nodding their heads now and then to affirm a wife’s or sweetheart’s statement. Up at the head of the row lay Granpappy’s shanty. Like Old Man River himself he sat out on the porch chewing, 8 ____THE DIAL Show less
close the melodies of the day. In reality the symphony plays on ceaselessly with quiet interludes, but to mortals the hum ends with sleep. This morning the Minneapolis City Symphony began, as far as I know and am concerned, with two sharp, and sud- den knocks on our door. The tripping upstairs... Show moreclose the melodies of the day. In reality the symphony plays on ceaselessly with quiet interludes, but to mortals the hum ends with sleep. This morning the Minneapolis City Symphony began, as far as I know and am concerned, with two sharp, and sud- den knocks on our door. The tripping upstairs and rush- ing about in preparation for the early outdoor breakfast complicated the melody. The running of water, the rub- bing and stomping of clothes in the wash tubs, the ringing of the telephone, the practising of voice and piano in the music room and parlor, served as my prelude of the city’s symphony of sounds, and continued as I proceeded along Seventh Street and Cedar Avenue to Brodahl’s, where the clanging of metal ware and clatter of dishes, orders given in different tones, and waitresses calling out the orders, joined with all the outdoor sounds of birds, street cars, noisy cars and quiet motors. The evening postlude was most enjoyable, for we went down to Minnehaha Park where we strolled leisurely through the tall avenues of trees, over stones and puddles, on over a bridge to the Mis- sissippi. Gentle raindrops fell upon the trees and were shaken from the leaves with a subdued swishing sound down upon us; little streams of water trickled down here and there, and in the distance came the lone call of a bird. Thus the oncoming night seemed to soothe and play beauti- fully the music which eased my longings and quieted my fears. SYNNOVE STENBERG, ’41. SWWSW Jesus mark my path for me, Step by step make Thy will clear, Point the way that I may see H ea‘ven’s way and there draw near. Lord wilt Thou to me reveal What Thou would’st have me to be, Fill my heart with Thy true zeal, Let me follow only Thee. FERN O. HANSON, ’41. THE DIA L_____ 19 Show less
house at the end 0’ town, and George sure like her some- thin’ awful, but she were sharin’ them feelin’s none with him though, an’ right out told him so. Course George didn’t like it none, cause that weren’t the way he was used ta bein’ treated. No, sar, he didn’t like it a tall, an’ I was feelin... Show morehouse at the end 0’ town, and George sure like her some- thin’ awful, but she were sharin’ them feelin’s none with him though, an’ right out told him so. Course George didn’t like it none, cause that weren’t the way he was used ta bein’ treated. No, sar, he didn’t like it a tall, an’ I was feelin’ like Loleta was, an’ she had a right good reason, which were this Jim fella I told ya about. Jim Higgins was his whole name, and they was figurin’ on gettin' mar- ried ’long in the fall. But George he didn’t care nothin’ for that, he just kept right on a courtin’ Loleta, till one day Jim up an’ told him he was trespassin’ on ground out of his own jurisdiction when he was payin’ court ta Loleta. That riled George up somethin’ terrible, and he tried ta splatter Jim across the street with them big fists 0’ his . . . ’cept he weren’t quick enough. “But George weren’t the forgettin’ kind, and he swore up and down he were goin' ta get Jim, so that was how Granpappy an’ me knowed who he was lookin’ for. I couldn’t help remarkin’ ta Granpappy that I felt sort 0’ sorry for George, cause I guess he liked Loleta somethin’ terrible, which I an’t a blamin’ him none. She sure was a right pretty gal. You know them dark eyes what makes your knees feel all watery when they looks at you. She had pretty brown hair too, most pretty hair I ever saw . . . but them eyes 0’ hers, ummm. I remember a gal like her once. I thought she were the prettiest gal on the river, dark eyes that make you feel all funny like when she tilted her head ever so little and looked at you. Yup! she were pretty. But gettin’ back ta the story. “Anyhow, George was lookin’ around for Jim . . . course he didn’t know what Granpappy an’ me knowed. We knowed Jim was up the river a piece dealin’ with Sam about that boat 0’ his. Least wise Jim was supposed ta be up thar . . . but shootin’ snake slivers if Jim didn’t come bustin’ around the corner right in sight 0’ George. Course George spied him right off an’ took after him like a bellerin’ bull, mad with the heat, an’ smashed him down afor we could holler at him. It was wicked the way George come at him . just like a freight train pilin’ inta wagon o’ straw. Poor 12 “THE DIAL Show less
to learn how to live is an education in itself. Even though we remember but a few concrete facts from a complete four-year course, yet we shall be educated if we have learned to use our time to the best advantage. What we do with our leisure time is a great fundamental problem of life. Man is in... Show moreto learn how to live is an education in itself. Even though we remember but a few concrete facts from a complete four-year course, yet we shall be educated if we have learned to use our time to the best advantage. What we do with our leisure time is a great fundamental problem of life. Man is in such a hurry when going through life that he often overlooks the vital issues before him, and foolishly spends his time and his life on that which is not only useless but even harmful. Man is in a great hurry. but does he know where he is going and what he will do when he gets there? I think not. There is a very com- mon illustration of that in everyday life. The family gets together on Sunday and father drives about a hundred miles for the picnic dinner. Father wonders if the car is still as lively as it was four years ago. He races with past records for the entire distance, trying to outdo last year’s sensational record of three hours, fourteen minutes, and eight seconds. But unfortunately he has a sneezing spell and loses one minute and eighteen seconds during the volcanic eruptions. What does father do after his noble work, even though in vain, has been completed? He goes to sleep un- der a tree and dreams of passing all the new cars on the way home. There is no denying the fact that man is in a hurry and is getting nowhere fast. What is the result of the fast-keyed life of today? Man is becoming ever more efficient and always more insufficient. After all, what does he do with the extra minute or two he saves through his planning and great efforts? Man spends several minutes’ time trying to find how he can save a single minute; when he does get his minute, he forgets to use it. I think it is unfortunate that so many lose the real mean- ing of life in their search for the trivial. An education’s foremost work should be to help adjust individuals to so- ciety and to the natural world about them. True education is not an end in itself, it is rather only the tool in the hands of the wise that brings them back to nature, and therefore to God- MARION LUND, ’39. 16 ___THE DIAL Show less
Up, up I climbed—the burning sun. Upon my back did beat, And gnarled roots and jagged rocks Did bruise my tired feet. The road more narrow then did grow And seemed so very steep That it was all that I could do Within the path to keep. All day I journeyed thus and as The shades of night drew nigh,... Show moreUp, up I climbed—the burning sun. Upon my back did beat, And gnarled roots and jagged rocks Did bruise my tired feet. The road more narrow then did grow And seemed so very steep That it was all that I could do Within the path to keep. All day I journeyed thus and as The shades of night drew nigh, I lifted up my tired eyes And heaved a weary sigh. Ah, all this way and all in vain The mountain path I trod, Where was the path that led me to The Holy Living God? My soul in agony did cry And on my face I fell; And loudly cried in weary fear, “:Who could the secret tell?” Then faintly through the dead of night A voice so still and small With silent peace and calmness great Upon my soul did fall. “Ah, weary one! Look up and live!" It quietly said to me. “Behold the cross! Behold the grave! I did it all for thee. Thou needs no longer strive to reach The haven of the blest, Just yield thy heart, my tired child! Come unto me and rest!” My journey now is at its end, And oh, the sweet release 0f yielding to my blessed Lord Who speaks to me in peace. I could not by my striving seek To cover all my sin; But I had found a victory By letting Jesus in. MILDRED RYAN, ’41. Show less
Conversation began to lag, the food was cold, and Grand- pappy was getting impatient to feed his two cats—it was time for Granny to begin her dinner. Grandpappy went over to the calendar and remarked knowingly, “Yah, it’s a good thing you brought them ‘vittles’ today; it says blustery for... Show moreConversation began to lag, the food was cold, and Grand- pappy was getting impatient to feed his two cats—it was time for Granny to begin her dinner. Grandpappy went over to the calendar and remarked knowingly, “Yah, it’s a good thing you brought them ‘vittles’ today; it says blustery for tomorrow and it don’t look any too good out now.” This was a gentle hint that we start for home in our modern contrivance or we might not make the unfathomable distance of ten miles before the storm came. The old clock was beckoning for us to go even if it was a half-hour slow; Grandpappy no doubt set it by the town siren which he could no longer hear. The sun, too, was sinking in the west, giving promise of a beautiful day on the morrow, so with a lump in our throats we bid them good-bye—our own dear Grandpappy and Granny. MARGIE ENEMARK, ’39. This morning I looked from my window, On a world that was radiantly bright; For the sun had arisen, smiling, And it beamed on my face with delight. By noon, I had almost forgotten That the day had started so fair; For my heart was heavy with burdens, And the darkening clouds filled the air. Tonight, as I glance out the window, My thoughts filled with cares of the day, Lo! a star meets my gaze with a twinkle, And my worries are lifted away. MILDRED OUDAL, ’40. THE DIAL Show less
Jim didn’t have a lick 0’ chance an’ went down like a dead log . . . an’ didn’t move none. The Sheriff seen the whole thing an’ come arunnin’ over, an’ seein’ the big hole in Jim’s head an’ him not breathin’ much, he grabs a hold 0’ Jim and tells him he’s under arrest for murder. George looks at... Show moreJim didn’t have a lick 0’ chance an’ went down like a dead log . . . an’ didn’t move none. The Sheriff seen the whole thing an’ come arunnin’ over, an’ seein’ the big hole in Jim’s head an’ him not breathin’ much, he grabs a hold 0’ Jim and tells him he’s under arrest for murder. George looks at the sheriff sort 0’ funny like, an’ just raises his am like a boom and tosses the sheriff out inta the street. Afor the sheriff could get hisself up George was atearin’ down the street toward whar Granpappy an’ me was a sit- tin'. The whole thing happened so quick I hardly knowed what was up, but Granpapy leans over an’ he says, ‘ “Cat- fish” what you all a bettin’ I can hit him in the right eye?’ I was takin’ plum backward, but I knowed what he was up ta . . . an’ I knowed too he’d do it. But I was hopin’ he’d put a little more juice ta the cud and give a little more push for me, so I bets him a twist 0’ that black tobacco they sells for tencents. I told Granpappy that, an’ he says, ‘Right . . . and I’ll eat my last weeks socks if I miss !’ “Well, thar was George a comin’ down the walk like the old man hisself was ahangin’ on his coat tail, an’ the sheriff right behind, but makin’ no headway, cause he was gettin’ ta fat. But Granpappy didn’t seem riled atall, ’cept he was chewin somethin’ terrible and I knowed it was a wad ’nough to choke the Mississippi that he was a workin’ on“ I was a watchin’ Granpappy, then I knowed what was comin’, cause Granpappy just leaned back slow like an’ cocked one eye. He worked that cud close ta his lips and waited, an’ J umpin’ eel pie! that was the biggest wad o’ tobacco I ever did see that arched out in the breeze and winged George’s eye just like a long Cotton Mouth struckin’ out o’ a bush. Never in all my born days did I see a man act up like George did, cause that stuff Granpapy chews wern’t no licorice. George just opened his mouth and howls like my hound does when he sees the moon, clawin’ at his eye like he was goin’ ta pull it out. It didn’t take the sheriff long to snap his cuffs on George, but it weren’t necessary, cause George was right tamed sort 0’ fella now. “Best part ‘0’ the thin’, it turned out Jim weren’t dead no how . . . just got hisself stunned a bit . . . but I was wor- THE DIAL_____ 13 Show less
24 W King’s ’I‘was dawning and the morning star Did softly fade away, As o’er the sleeping world arose The sun, announcing day! I lingered not in peaceful dreams But straightway I arose, For I must travel many miles Before the day should close. The road was smooth and wide and straight And as I... Show more24 W King’s ’I‘was dawning and the morning star Did softly fade away, As o’er the sleeping world arose The sun, announcing day! I lingered not in peaceful dreams But straightway I arose, For I must travel many miles Before the day should close. The road was smooth and wide and straight And as I sped along My joyous heart did overflow With many a happy song. Ah, it was great to be alive On such a glorious morn, When rising sun the waking world With beauty did adorn. The gentle breeze caressed my brow And rustled in the grass, The flow’rs and trees did quietly nod As by them I did pass. The sunlight’s rays grew more direct The day, more warm and bright, With quickened pace I hurried on With heart so gay and light. When noon had come with its great heat The broad road did divide, One path went o’er the rolling plain, The other, the mountain side. At last I came to the crossroad; No guidepost did disclose The way that I should journey, so The rugged path I chose. THE DIAL Show less
A Hat From his youth a golden haired girl of rosy fair com- plexion had ruled his dreams till she became his ideal of womanhood. First he had seen her in the setting of eter- nal hills, bathing their blue and lavender peaks in the sun- lit skies. She had played upon his heart in the quiet and... Show moreA Hat From his youth a golden haired girl of rosy fair com- plexion had ruled his dreams till she became his ideal of womanhood. First he had seen her in the setting of eter- nal hills, bathing their blue and lavender peaks in the sun- lit skies. She had played upon his heart in the quiet and peace of the Sunday’s Chapel service . . . and had unknow- ingly made herself a part of him. She was a child and he was a child . . . but before they knew one another well she was removed from the hills by her parents. Years passed, and Jimmy gained manhood, yet lingering in his dreams was a golden haired child. Student days were busy days, but one day the dream was revived to the strength of a vision. During an intercollegiate school meet- ing his heart again became a drum at beholding the vision of his youth before him. There she stood. She, too, had gro , and was a young woman . . . but . . . Jimmy’s heart skipped a beat. There on her beautiful hair of gold was perched in an extremely audacious man- ner the most atrocious hat Jimmy had ever seen. Its color was just between a green and a blue though it might have been intended for a blue. In shape it resembled the wreck of a schooner lying upturned with its keel exposed on a sand-bar. A gaudy orange feather ran along the keel and extended out into space for a tremendous distance of seven or eight inches . . . not at all unlike a distress signal waving in the breeze. The hat came down low over her eyes like the comb of a Wyandotte hen. 0n the right side a loose veil-like affair hung like a family wash in the wind. A disillusioned man, Jimmy stared, and slowly the dream of childhood vanished. The bubble of idealism had broken. A hat had been the betrayer of all . . . or, what was it? JOEL LUNDEEN, ’40. THE DIAL_______ 29 Show less