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By
Jim Osbome
I am sure it wasn’t Aesop that wrote
the follovjing Fable* In f?,ct, I am not sure
it was even written, but sounds like one of
Summie Eis^cor's fabrications that he loves
to tell for the purpose of illustrating an
idea. The story is about an old bald-head
ed man that was dlways looking on the dark
side of life and his only happy moments
were Ti\^en he could get some one to listen
v;hile ho belly-ached about his troubles,
’’One very hot day old Mr. Sad Sack was
mowing his lawn and feeling ’dovm to par’,
when he saw his next door neighbor leaning
over the fence watching. He dropped his
lawn mower and v/cnt over to ;i4iere his neigh
bor was standing and started unraveling his
talc of woe. He was doing a bit of sweating, as xvell as, cussing,
so he took off his old battered stra^s hat to use as a fah, thus
exposing his bald head to a mocking bird who happened to be fljdng over and dropped a
calling card that landed with a splatter on the very center of the ’old bald-head
pessimist’, 'Now you might think that this incident was "The Stravj That Broke the
Cfunols Back", rather he was'very happy over the accident, as it 'was the unexpected
opportunity to convey his point of view on life to his neighbor.
Removing the object with the crook of his forefinger and slinging in on the ground
he explained, "Sec what I mean, see what I me.-^ji, the dirty little son-of-a-gim sings
for everyone else, but look what he does for me,"
National conflict always breeds dissatisfaction and a desire to be where wo aint,
I Tvaa told about a family that had lived in our village for years and seemed to be con
tented until our "home—front laws" became so complicated and confusing that we seme—
times wonder" vAiich v/ay is up". This family obtained their release from the company
and moved to another town, thinking their troubles would end and life would forever
be a bed of roses, mzide possible by inci*eased wages. It didn't take them long to dis
cover that they had made n mistake,'' living conditions were hifjier, and they wore more
dissatisfied than ever, and made preparations to move back to liawndnle. The day they
were packing to move their next door neighbor came over to tell the family good-by and
how sorry he felt for the little twelve year old son who had been out in the back yard
and was heard to say as he looked over the landscape, "Good-by God, I, am going back to
Lavmdale", ■ The father of the lad explained that he v/as corrcct as to what the boy
said, but the emphasis was wrong, Vhat the kid really said was "Gcodl By-God I am go
ing back to Lavmdnle",
It all depends on how a guy is raised - Vfe read recently about a soldier who had
been raided on a ranch in the Vfcst, The boy knew all about horses and how to handle
them in case of an accident, but strajage'to say he never did learn the facts about
vromen; so when he got back from overseas, he fell for a fascinating female and married
her. But the first night of their, jnarried life the bride tripped and fell down the
stairs breaking her log. The soldier shot her,' So you see how much depends on what
a fellow learns v>hcn he is just a little shaver. Now in our case’I fMess we were lucky
\Jg learned that one of the first rules of life is to make friends.
It can become more or less of what you might call a pleasurable pastime, Thats
the re.-’.son for. us sending our little publication, "The Hodve>'Rail, to ail you fellers,
and can wc help it if you "G,I, Joes and Janes" mall a little letter to us once in a
while - "Helno, we like it,"