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Stephen (Reddie) Hurtt was in
New Bern the other day. It was
the first time the editor of The
Mirror had seen him in close to
40 years, so we did an about face
and got to recalling some of our
boyhood experiences.
Envy doesn’t happen to be one
of this writer’s many faults, but
at this late date we’ll have to ad
mit that we were a little jealous
of Red. He had a goat named Bill,
and a cart to go with the critter.
Among the kids this put him in an
even higher category than the well
heeled gent of today who owns a
Cadillac.
In our heart, we knew we would
never have a goat we could call
our own. Every Christmas we ask
ed Santa Claus for a pony, a bi
cycle, or an electric train — hop
ing to get one of the three. St.
Nick never did come across.
What we really wanted most was
a billy goat, but the slightest men
tion of it at our house invariably
caused a fuss. In view of that,
there was no point in wasting post
age on a letter to the North Pole,
requesting a foul smelling pet with
horns.
Ben Hur in his chariot was
never prouder than a boy who was
privileged to ride in Reddy Hurtt’s
goat cart. Before you took off for
a mad dash down the street. Red
gave you explicit instructions on
how to pilot the vehicle. You need
ed a navigator in the cart too,
but there wasn’t room.
' Th? gdat had'diily one gear —
he started in high and stayed in
high until he had run his course.
To get underway, you simply twist
ed his tail twice instead of once.
The reins were small ropes, and
there was something veiy import
ant to remember. When you want
ed the goat to go to the right, you
pulled to the left, and vice versa.
It was a good idea to have unlimit
ed visibility, since the brakes that
the goat may have had in his
younger days weren’t part of his
equipment in latter years. Besides,
if he took the notion he would run
smack into a brick wall or a tree,
just to break the monotony.
Like Ferdinand the Buli, Red’s
goat dearly loved flowers. Ferdi
nand was content to sniff them,
but not Bill. His specialty was
roses, and he ate them at every
opportunity. Needless to say, this
sort of diet didn’t exactly endear
him to flower growers on Short,
New, Change, and East Front
streets.
He was fondest of Mrs. Larry
Moore’s roses on upper East Front
street. Whenever he ran away from
home, which was often. Red looked
for him first at the large and
lovely Moore residence. Not satis
fied with devouring all the roses
he could find in the yard, he had
the audacity to invade the front
porch and gobble up the roses
there too.
So far as we could tell, the
roses didn’t improve his aroma. He
still smelled like every other goat
in town, including Bill Wads
worth’s billy goat. Speaking of the
Wadsworth goat. Red’s goat made
the mistake of getting in an argu
ment with him on an unforgettable
occasion.
They locked horns in what
would probably have been a fatal
encounter for one or both gladi
ators, if several of us hadn’t been
able to finally pull them apart. In
the excitement. Red’s goat got one
of his horns knocked off. It was
knocked off so completely, you
could look down the hole and see
what looked like was his brain.
Red found some coal tar and
packed it in the hole. His goat
didn’t think much of the medica
tion, but it healed up beautifully.
If any of the tar got on the goat’s
brain it didn’t change his person-
(Continutd on Page 3)
The NEW BERN
PUBLISHED WEEKLY
IN THE HEART OP
Hr. lira. A. IT. Turphy
20X Aronda3.1 St.
Itorchoai City. NC
I r
VOLUME 5
NEW BERN, N. C., FRIDAY, AUGUST 24, 1962
NUMBER 17
WHOOPING IT UP—Time and again, during the 1962
football season, New Bern High school’s attpctive cheer
leaders will be duplicating this scene. While the Bears
are scrapping to achieve further gridiron glory for the
institution, the female of the species won’t be exactly idle.
You’ll have an opportunity to share the excitement, start
ing with the opening game against Morehead City two
weeks from now, at the local stadium.
THERE’S WORK TOO—New Bern High school students
know better than anyone else that the classroom takes
priority over all other activities, even though it may not
seem that way to some outsiders. Monday they’ll turn their
backs on care free vacation days, and tackle anew such
weighty problems as the psychology discussion that has
these youngsters pondering human behavior. Maybe mom
and dad should also enroll.
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