| EDITOR | Ada Landon |
| SECRETARY AND PRINTER | Thelma Mae |
| REPORTER AND NEWSGATHERER | Pet |
| ART DIVISION | Ruby Anne |
| POETRY AND LITERATURE | Anne Landon |
| FOREIGN CORRESPONDENT | Mary Lewis |
| FINANCIER | Goff and Goff Feed Co. |
| INSPIRATOR | Mother |
CURRENT NEWS:
Wednesday morning the crew at Idlewild were thrown into ecstascies of joy
and excitement by the unexpected arrival of our brother John, and, later
in the day, the advent of our brother-in-law Victor. The only thing to
dampen our pleasure was the announcement from both of them of a
necessarily early departure.
Sunday, we had our first ballgame. The score was eight to two in favor of
the Heavy Hitters. Spectators were reluctantly compelled to admit it was
some game.
The other day, great disturbance reigned in the Wilds. Screeks were heard;
those people working in the fields came running to the house; chickens
scattered in many directions. Some minutes elapsed before it was
discovered what was the matter — George Goff cut a tooth.
Chig’s picture in his ballsuit came and it certainly was good.
The wonder reigns how he made that face!
FOREIGN CORRESPONDENCE:
Mary writes that roommates are somewhat like a marriage in that one
takes them for better or for worse – and she wonders if after
all, there was so much to be provoked in Anne’s primping.
WEATHER DONKEY:
Rain, lightening, and thunder have been in vogue for some time, but now
the heat season is entered and is likely to remain for some time.
Cotton hoeing is being done, but enthusiasm is low.
The corn was finished and laid aside with many sighs of relief.
Evenings now seem to be devoted to thoughts of the old Swimming Hole.
EDITORIAL:
To Name the Paper
What is a pump without a handle? Nothing! That is the reason why we
entered into the campaign of naming our paper with the zest of the most
progressive farm hands. The effort of selecting a name from the many
entered was a problem of heavy responsibility, but as the fittest must
always survive over the weak, so Idlewild Idiocy put into the shadow such
other suggestions as The Ramblebriar, Our Book of Knowlege, and The Idle
Pen. For this reason, the paper now comes to you under its present
effective title.
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| LITTLE ANNIE’S BUCKSAW: |
RUBY RUTH |
Good morning, Ruth, how sweet you look –
Your bath, your breakfast, some shady nook –
To play and play, then perhaps a book.
We’ll have a lady of you.
What, you bad child! You’ve spilled your gravy?
O, the imp! She’ll drive me crazy.
well, never mind, you hazy
We’ll yet make a lady of you.
To work! Ket me make the bed in peace, child.
I’ll turn my back, I think she’s gone;
Twould indeed be sad to be wrong,
For we must make a lady of her.
Another glance sets me right –
Square in the feathers the imp did light.
O the child, she’ll drive me wild —
But we’ll make a lady of her.
Noon – and at the table, Sweet Ruth reigns.
To be well measured are her aims.
Little bites and dainty
She’s our little lady.
Night – “Now I lay me down to sleep
Pray the Lord my soul to keep –
“Bless Daddy, bless Ruby – brother too –
Bless the Kitty card and Uncle John –
A pause — “Bless ’em all – I’m getting tard –
Bless Chig — fer — he’s my pard –
Now asleep, and meek and mild –
Just a little angel elf –
She’s a lady all herself.
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PAST AND PRESENT |
Ah, the good old days! My dears, the day has been just about 100 degrees
above 0, and yet an antique came to see us today clothed in a heavy
pumpkin colored, long sleeved, dress which swished about her ankles in a
manner such as to be aggravating. The idea was to conceal everything,
but notwithstanding, a thick white petticoat would occasionally become
visible. This weatherproof person sat with us all afternoon in the yard
and, as she found the shade of the trees insufficient, Ada offered a
newspaper which she held aloof over her head as I would an umbrella.
But woe! The fashions of the past are as nothing to the follies of this
generation. I, in my thin and brief clothes, laughed up my sleeve.
At 2:30 o’clock I marched gaily to the ball dimaond, but though
Rube and I won over Pet, Thelma, and Ada, with a score of 8 to 2, I
returned to the house in a sad and broken state. My arms and shoulders
were blistered to a raw ugly red; the skin was beginning to dislodge
itself from my nose; my feet throbbed with pain. I sought relief in the
hammock but no sooner had my back touched the wire and barrel
staves, than I discovered that peace was unthinkable. I flung some
pillows on the ground, sleep and rest claimed me. In conclusion —
If the younger generation is going to the dogs, let God preserve His
youth, since she has not had the sense to.
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