Newspapers / The Waynesville Mountaineer (Waynesville, … / Nov. 20, 1950, edition 1 / Page 18
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PAGE TWO (Third Section) TIIE WAYNESVTLLE MOUNTAINEER "-ff-i.'win iiuon. .oveii.k Santa r COWBOY By lUCRECE HUDGINS b2 f " '-7 Chapter One SANTA AND THE COWBOY Once upon a time there lived a little buy named George Harold Sanders. His mother called him Georgia and his father called him son. But he called himself Kid Buckaroo, the Terror of the West. If you were- his friend he would let you call him Bucky. He was a cowboy. He lived in an apartment house in a big city 2000 miles away from the wide open west. He rode the subway to and from . school. He played in the city park. He had i never touched a cow, never been on a ranch, never ridden a horse. All the same he was a cowboy. To be truthful, you'd have to say hi imagined he was a cowboy. But it's all the same thing. He dressed in jeans and check- . ered shirt. He carried two six shooters, one on each hip. A short and ragged lasso hung from his belt. His red hat dipped over his forehead. He usually carried a stick which he constantly patted. Tile stick, of course, was- his trusty horse Fellow. Every Saturday and Sunday Bucky rode Fellow over to the park where there were a lot of other cowboys real like himself and a lot of Indians, Uio though the Indians were wholly make believe. And that was the Great Sorrow Of Kid Buckaroo's life: that there were no more honest-to-good-ness, war-painted.. whooping, fight ing Indians left in the world. "All the Indians we have now are good ones," his father told him. "Don't they ever fight cowboys anymore?" asked Bucky. "No, they are our friends. And cowboys spend their time herd, and branding cattle. getting beef to market." 1 Well, that's not the way Kid ! Buckaroo spent his time. He chased Indians. He tracked them down the main avenues of the city. ambushed them in elevators, cap-1 tured whole tribes with his two i six-shooters. j "I don't know what to do with him," moaned his mother. "Good-j ness, I only hope his baby sister! doesn't grow up to be a cowgirl:" i Bucky rode Fellow over to he park where ihere mere a lot of Indians- "make believe Indians. father. ( "Honestly, Dad, what would a Presently Bucky galloped in on ! cowboy be doing with that kind Fellow. "Feel my muscle, Dad," j of stuff?" he said. He held up his skinny seven-year-old arm. "That's great," said his father. "You're very healthy." "I'm the strongest cowboy in the world," said Bucky. "Son," said his father. "Christ- 'What bring lining ms : j.ominB nrcttv soon. alui would you like Santa to you?" ( Bucky sat down and thought for a while. Then he said, "I've got everything. I guess. Pistols, horse, lasso there's really not much else." "How about a baseball and bat?" said his father. Bucky shook his head. "I'd never use it." "Well, a football? Or a set of Maybe we can get him some-! drums? Or some lead soldiers?" thing for Christmas to get his Bucky took a bead on the liv mind off cowboys," suggested his ing room light with his gun. "But there must be something," said his father. "Santa can bring you most anything you want, you know. You think of something and write It down. You'd be sur prised at what Santa could do for you." Bucky went in his room and put Fellow in his stable under the bed. He hung his guns on the closet door and pulled off his boots. He sat on the bed twirling his lasso. All the time he was think ing. A great big wonderful idea was growing in his mind until finally he was just about ready to burst with excitement. Mis father said Santa could bring him most anything and that was certainly true because in other years Santa had brought him every thing he could think to ask for, even including the time he'd ask ed for a baby sister. "Golly!" he thought as he rushed to his desk for paper and pencil. "Wait'll the kids see what I turn up with on Christmas morn ing:" - I Then hp sat down and carefullv wrote his letter to Santa. This is what he said: "Dear Santa, I'd be so happy forever if you'd please bring me some real live Indians to fight." And he signed the letter "Kid Buckaroo. Terror of the West." Now, parents have to read let ters to Santa before they mail them to be sure there are no mis spelled words. So Bucky's father read his letter. "Good heavens'." he exclaimed. "All he wants for Christmas are some Indians to fight?" "Mercy!" cried Bucky's mother. "Whatever shall we do?" "I don't know. Maybe I better dress up like an Indian Chief. But one thing Is certain here's one let ter that will never reach Santa Claus, thank goodness!" He tossed the letter Into the waste basket. But what strange things happened to that letter! The next morning the waste bas ket was enitpied by the trash man and taken away in a bis truck. As the truck rumbled through the streets, the wind loosened the paper and blew It onto the side walk. A man walking to work kicked the paper into an alley. There a small boy snatched it, wadded it up and batted it across the street like a ping pong ball. This time it landed right at the feet of Mortimer Moonface who was sitting on the curbstone rest-1 ing. Few people could see Morti mer because he was a brownie. He was on his way home from the bakery where he worked putting holes in doughnuts. I guess you know that fairies and elves and such are not just creatures to be found in forests and books. No, indeed. Every city Is filled with them tiny men and women, not six inches tall, mak ing a living in the city just like everyone else, Now Mortimer Moonface car ried a wee loaf of bread under his arm. When he saw the crumpled paper at his feet he picked it up and wrapped it around the bread to keep It clean, When he reached home (behind the face of the big City Hall clock) Mrs. Moonface un wrapped the bread. As she did so she cried out, "Why Santa's name is written here!" . "So it is," said Mortimer, peer ing over her shoulder. "Let's see, It says 'Dear Santa, I'd be so happy forever if you'd please bring me some real live Indians to fight. Kid Buckaroo, Terror of the West'." "Aliens Greek Float Girls Ratecl High BURLEY EXPERTS ARE RATING THE 1950 HAYWOOD BURLEY CROP AS "TOPS" sw. -a 1 turfv Hundreds Of Haywood Farmers Used Q) 6) mm mm ON THEIR CROPS This was the natural choice for Hay wood Farmers. v. BLUE RIDGE PLANT FOOD is made right here in Haywood Made for Burley as grown in Haywood Soils! TO USE BLUE RIDGE PLANT FOOD ON YOUR 1951 CROPS Manufactured By Smoky Mountains Fertilizer Co. Waynesville, N. C. - Tim nn ' -V N 9- 1, I Aliens Creek folks used the flower theme with these two prtetty girls for their float in the 1949 Tobacco Harvest Festival parade. In foreground is Miss Vivian Gilliland. "Say!" cried Mrs. Moonface. "Wasn't Herbert telling us some thing about Indians in Santa Land last week?" (Herbert, a brownie who worked on a newspaper, knew about every thing that went on in the whole world.) "That was Jindians," remem bered Mortimer. "But Indians and Jindians a're probably the same thing. Anyway, if Santa is having trouble I should think he needs some big strong fellow like this Kid Buckaroo to help him. I'm go ing to write Kid Buckaroo a letter. Look, his address is right on here." , When Kid Buckaroo (known as Bucky) went to the mail box he found a letter for himself that said; "Dear Mr, Buckaroo, Santa Is having trouble with real live fight ing Indians in Santa Land and he could sure use your help. Mortimer Moonface." Bucky's heart thundered with excitement. So there were some fighting Indians left in the world! And in Santa Land of all places. Why, Santa's very life was prob ably in danger! A cowboy certainly knew what he had to do. He belted on his two six-shooters, yanked his faithful stick horse from under the bed and grabbed his lasso. "Don't worry, Santa," he whis pered. "Kid Buckaroo is on the way! Christ who Of course Bucky wasnt afraid iripun".' i He h of going to Santa Land. The only 'santa Larri f 'd 's trouble was he had not the slightest anv denJ, u s idea how to get to it. , j Buekv ' s worm, im certain,- he almn rJ he imseit in a told-himself. But where Fellow, down the sidewalks of his aw i north? He rode his stick horse,! down on l l VOlr !ii .... ' 8a neighborhood until he found a Bur Vv L ,1 .u. "t-v- xt u !pranB n . . 1 Buses Here. your finger, "l't . lu me turo j stammered ' Bt " Buck hopped aboard. Away the "That's uk. WrH Km. nMt nnnJ r.A K.. U-S 3t thffT ij " uuui. me cuy me man -um ZK to places Bucky 'never had gone 'are you? t. Kiirirv iin onn coin "WhAia - out'Ka fare?" . ! 4"' for!or Bucky's mouth fell open. "I j be thalVTi!S? don't have any money," he w his- West?" ' e!ael pered. "How d A' The driver stopped the bus and Buckv in iLj? f ijuvj uu. xncic iic was -j heard mv f I surrounded by skyscapers, the I Moonface ! ill 1,(1 S iranic spinning pasi mm. Me lelt night. He said v I Iking a million miles from home and yet fight Jindii, , thing in Santa Uni' not very near was certainly Santa Land. He asked a newsboy the way to Santa Land. The boy growled, "Scram!" He asked a lady if she knew the way. She said, "You dear boy, are you all ready for ft.. . t ducky s eyes sparkLi am!Thu. is-if 1 e way there." Tiny considered for , J Then he said. ' 1 J ' Continued to rjR, THE OLD HOME TOWN I y 1 n ( TUT'.TOTNmll -JUST ) ,j 9 HOL& Voo THUMBS rl 'l C yjHILB1 YOU VnIFISH itf( 111 ( MY STEAK ." J JL i7T MCi.BU&SET HAS FOUND AWFIGH TO KEEP A FOOTV CNT STEAK FI50 COSTINS DOluAR We Cordially Invite You to Attend The 4th Annual Haywood County Tobacco Harvest Festival -November 21, 22, 23, 24 and 25 We also invite you to see The NEW 195 MERCURY Before You Buy Any Car - DRIVE A MERCURY! WE ALSO HAVE SEVERAL ff & m c fi n R C GOOD, LATE MODEL U O Km U h H 3 Waymieisvpllle VMm Co. Henry Davis, Owner Phone 1082 Main Stre1
The Waynesville Mountaineer (Waynesville, N.C.)
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Nov. 20, 1950, edition 1
18
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