Jackson High School - Osky Wow Yearbook (Jackson, OH)

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“STRIKES AND FUST By Alma G. “Laws o’ Mercy, child, ain’t you jest about roasted?” asked Aunt Maria, as she entered the preacher’s house through the hack door and greeted his better half with these words. Outside, the July sun beat down, heedless of the inconvenience it bestowed upon suffering mankind. Inside, it was still warmer and almost as warm as that place the Bible describes, for it was baking day in the minister’s kitchen The bread was rising and two large cakes were ready to be iced. Mrs. Jackson peeped into the oven, where four pies were becoming a beautiful appetizing brown, before she ventured to answer Aunt Maria. “Yes, I am rather hot, but you see we are expecting ten members of the Bible School to come this afternoon, and with those five mischievous children of mine, I will have my hands full for a few days, so I decided to bake this morning,” she said wearily. “If that don't beat all earthly things, heard or unheard of,” bewailed Aunt Maria; “it’s a downright pity, but I’ll do anything I kin fer you. Perhaps you could send two of the preachers over to my house fer bed an’ victuals, fer you know Tony an’ me hav lived alone so long it ’ill be jest a circus to hev some one about. Course, if they be very stuck up like most preachers is, I reckon Tony an’ me will be kind o’ coarse, but I hold myself jest as good as them or anyone else, that I do. I’m good from heart, fer I ain’t stoled nobody’s chickens an’ never harmed my neighbors, an’ I tell you what, if they was more people like that, we wouldn’t need so many o’ them Bible Schools. I be plain spoken an’ outright in all my transactions, an’ I ain’t ’shamed o’ it, neither.” “You are so kind to me and it would be such a help, that I will accept your kind Miller, ’15. offer, but are you sure it won’t inconvenience you?” anxiously asked Mrs. Jackson. “It won't be a mite o’ trouble to me, fer you know we got plenty o’ beds and garden sass; an’ don’t you go an fritter yourself into a stew over your work, fer what you can’t git done, the Lord ’ill give you credit fer anyway. ” So Aunt Maria hurried home to prepare for her company. The next morning at the church, Aunt Maria’s visitors were praising her cooking ability, and the others said, “Well, as far as the cooking goes, we are very well satisfied, but the sleeping part overbalances that. We were put into a large room where there were three beds; all eight of us crowded into them. That wasn't so bad, but about the time we were entering into sleep, a series of screams and yells evoked from the next room First, the baby had the colic and kept us awake until one o’clock; and at succeeding intervels of about fifteen minutes, every one of them cried for a drink. About three o’clock, we were aroused by a terrible scream and heard Jimmy tell his mother the Gypsies were after him. By four o’clock we heard Brother Jackson calling the cows and we knew it was time for us to be up. If we have another night like that we will ask Sister Maria to take us in as boarders.” That night it was a little worse, for two children contracted measles and croup, which excited the whole household, so the preachers packed their suitcases and morning found them cosily ensconced at Aunt Maria’s house. This day was extremely hot and Aunt Maria’s circus was started. Everything went smoothly, until she heard that the icemen had gone on a strike. Now, Aunt Mara was a queer sort of a person. She was all right if everything went her way, but now that she was unable to secure the TWENTT-NINE

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had perfected the talent she had shown in the old high school days and was now a famous artist with many beautiful pictures to her credit. We went from here to Cairo, and the day after our arrival, went out to see the pyramids. Among the throng of travelers that day we met Mr. Henson and he was accompanied by a gentleman wearing a moustache. For this reason I didn’t know him until Mr. Henson introduced him as Elsworth Ro we. Several months more were spent in the old world without meeting any one else we knew, and then we decided to return home by way of San Francisco. On the first evening of our arrival, I was reading the “Times” when my eyes fell on this in large type, “New Chief Justice of the Supreme Court.” Being curious to know who it could be, I read on and found it was no other than Blaine Matthews of the class of ’14. In my last letter from Maud Scurlock, who is teaching German in Jackson high, she said that Chloe Woodruff had been teaching school, but not having made a success of it, it was easy for Benson West-lake to persuade her to change her name, and now they were living on a farm in Nebraska, where Benson was farming scientifically. Here we stopped for one day and then went on to visit our old home. We got off at the H. V. depot and slowly climbed the Cambrian hill. On the corner where we formerly read “Lewis’ Drug Store,” it now read “Lego Hippel’s Drug Store.” We stopped long enough to speak to the proprietors who, among other things, told us that Orella Whetsel was now Mayor of the town, and had demonstrated the wisdom of Woman Suffrage. She had as her able assistant, Preston Turner, Sheriff. Going down Broadway we met a young lady who immediately recognized us, and came up smiling and called us by name. Then we remembered Helen Coles, whom we were very glad to see, and she told us that she was a Red Cross nurse I thought then, how fitting it was, for Helen was always quiet in voice and manner. We three then turned our steps toward the old school buliding. But what a change! The old building had been torn down, and nothing remained to show there had ever been one. We crossed the lot and went into the hall of the building on Portsmouth St,, now in such a state of perfection as hardly to be recognizable. We met the principal in the hall, and he treated us very courteously. We told him we were once students there, and would like to visit the different rooms. He told us that his name was Ralph Shuter, and took us into our old room first, where Annie Ashley was teaching Agriculture. We heard from her that Gladys Shively, Margaret Robbins and Faye Smith had a chicken ranch in Texas and were making a success of it. Last, but not by any means least, we heard that Edwin Osborn was the minister of one of the largest churches in Philadelphia. So ended the most delightful year of my life. I have had rest and a visit to old friends, and now I am back in New York ready for work again. My health is entirely regained, and Lucile remains with me for the present TWE.NTT-E.IOHT

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ice, she not only abused her husband, but everything went wrong and everything was in her way, even her pet cat, Clothilde. “Dear Tony,” she lamented, “We ain’t goin’ to get no ice, an’ we can’t have no iced tea, nor lemonade, nor sherbet, an’ the butter ’ll be thinner than oil.” “Well, Maria, it is God’s will an’ we’ll have to make the best of it. I reckon those men hev read their Bibles enough to know that we can’t hev everything to suit ourselves,” said good natured Uncle Tony. The Maker had given Aunt Maria an inventive temperament which persistently came to her aid in unfortunate moments, so she was not long in solving her way out of the difficulty. As usual, Tony was a chief factor in her schemes, and obediently came to her call. “Tony,” she began, with a commander-in-chief attitude, “You go an’ git that there wheelbarrow out there, an’ go down to the ice-house an’ haul me home some ice, an’ everything ’ill be lovely.’’ But Tony was not to be used as a pack-horse and hotly retorted, “Huh! what d’ you think I be, a delivery wagon? 7'hem there Gospel preachin’ men ain’t a doggone bit better than me, an’ it’s been hotter days than this, when you wouldn’t get no ice fer iced tea nor lemonade, an’ the ice man stoppin’ right afore your very door.” Then Aunt Maria said, with tears that would have been a credit to Niobe, “Why do I have such luck when I’m willin’ to work for God’s prophets? Oh, dear! God must have forsaken me to send me such bad luck.” Words, remonstrances and expostulations were equally useless, and Tony, with a lingering glance at his Frau, took the wheelbarrow and trudged to the ice-house, contemplating why men are so susceptible to women’s tears. When her grief had subsided, she looked around for Tony, but no Tony could be found, and a new outburst of passion fol- lowed, “I’d bet my best jar o’ pickles that he’s gone down to Zeke Jones’blacksmith shop to chew the rag and smoke. 1 alk about women folks bein’ gossipy, why, he kin gether more news there in fifteen minutes than I kin at our Thimble Club in two hours. Now, Clothilde, you git out o’ my way, when I got the most work tt» do you’r always strangled around my feet, an’ scaring the livin’ life out o’ me.” Her display of vocal accomplishments was accompanied with a kick, by which the cat was transported across the room, express prepaid. Clothilde had been quite a pet and unaccustomed to harsh treatment, so she was thrown into such a panic that she crawled up the screen door, and from there over the bed and onto the wardrobe with Aunt Maria and the broomstick in pursuit, but Clothilde could not be coaxed to leave her place of refuge. Tony was just returning with the ice, and entered the house wondering what the commotion could be. “Oh Tony, even my Clothilde has gone into a fit an’ is up on the wardrobe an’ I can’t make her come down,’’ sobbed Aunt Maria. “Well, no wonder; 1 guess you skeered her into fits. Don’t blame her fer goin’ where it’s high, fer I’d like to git on a house when you git started,” responded • Tony. But Aunt Maria had seen the ice, and the cat’s fits were insignificant matters. “God is good! God is merciful! I knowed he would hear my prayer an’ send me the ice! How good God is! He sent me the ice,” she exclaimed, but Tony wiped the perspiration from his face and again his righteous indignation rose to fever heat. “It wasn't God that heard your prayer, it was me, an’ I got the ice fer you. I thinks you ought to be praisin’ me instead o’ God, fer how could he send you ice in summertime? It’d melt before it got here” he retorted scornfully. THIRTt