"BUB" and the
FIREMEN
By Carl Churchill
knots in your neck
‘‘Don’t never go ’round stickin
your neck out,” said Philosopher
Bub Skinner as he entered the en
gineroom at the fire station in a
sort of cranksided fashion. “If you
do somebody’s liable t’ tie a knot
in it.”
Mister Skinner found himself a
seat. As he lowered his lanky
frame onto the chair his face
twisted itself into a mask of mis
ery. When he had entered the fire
station, the firemen had noted that
his manner of locomotion resem
bled that of a crab that had lost,
in one way or another known only
to crabs, all its legs on one side.
He had just sort of sidled in.
“Yeah, Maw got th’ notion t
stick her neck out, an’ her nose in
somebody’s biznuss, so t’ speak, an’
as th’ result got a knot tied in
both o’ ’em, therecketically speak
in’.” Mister Skinner massaged the
small of his back, and went on.
“It seems like Maw jest has t’
have them kinder fits in spells.
Right after supper t’night, she
made me up and go up town with
her t’ kinder winder-shop fer
Christmas a bit, an’ who shu’d we
meet up with but ol’ Mike Jimpson.
As usual, Mike were purty good
an’ drunk.
“Maw didn’t ’pear t’ notice him
bein’ in sech a state fer quite a
spell. I tried t’ get her t’ come
’long, but she were determined t’
have a talk with Mister Jimpson.
“Now, ol’ Mike thinks he’s a
smart politician, ’specially when
he’s full o’ spirits. So th’ first
thing I knowed he were talkin’
politics right off.
“Mizzes Skinner ain’t nobody’s
fool when it comes t’ ’lectioneerin’,
herself. She jest stood an’ lissened
t’ Mike’s ramblin’ fer a while an’
then she sayed:
“ ‘Mister Jimpson, how many
have you got in your fam’ly?’
“ ‘They’s five o’ us all told,’ sayed
Mike tryin’ t’ get funny. ‘They’s
me, th’ wife, th’ kid, th’ cow an’
th’ cat.’
“Maw kinder swelled a leetle.
Fer a minit I thought it’d tuck her
breath, so t’ speak. ‘So, they’s five
o’ you!’ she sayed sneerin’ly.
“ ‘Yes’m,’ sayed ol’ Mike with a
bleary leer, ‘they’s five o’ us, why
do you ast?’
"Maw didn’t answer his question.
She jest ast ’im another one. She
had stood lissenin’ t’ Mister Jimp
son blowin’ ’bout how ’portant he
were in th' political doin’s o’ th’
community, so she jest fixed her
mouth in th’ way she always fixes
it when she’s gonna ast a hard
one, an’ sayed:
“ ‘An’ whut’s th’ party affillyation
o’ your peculiar fam’ly, if I may
be so rude as t’ ast?’ Maw said,
an’ I started tuggin’ at her sleeve
t’ get her away from there. But
Maw is Maw, as you fellers well
know. She jest had t’ stick ’round
as well as stick her neck out. She
jest wu’dden’t budge.
“ ‘She’s kinder mixed. Yes’m, th’
politics in my conglommerated
fam’ly is right muchly mixed, much
t’ my shame an’ deggergation!’
sayed ol’ Mike with a foxy look on
his face.
Now, take me, fr instance, Im
a Demmycrat, th’ ol’ woman’s a
Republican, th’ kid’s Wet, th’ cow’s
Dry, an’ th’ bloomin’ cat’s one o’
them there Fence-sitters! Yes’m,
we’re kinder repersentative ’round
at our house—Whaaaa! Whaaaa!’
“I knowed it were gonna develop
into somethin’ like that,” said
Mister Skinner. “So I’d turned my
haid away t’ oneside t’ keep Maw
from seein’ me laffin’. Boy, were
she hot! I th’ot fer a minit she
were gonna take one o’ her well
known swings at Mister Jimpson.
She must o’ th’ot better o’ it, fer
she didn’t. She jest stood there
glarin’.
“Then it seemed like she’d dis
covered fer th’ first time that ol’
Mike were drunk. I don’t know
how she’d kept from knowin’ it
all th’ time fer he were smellin’ t’
beat th’ band.
“ ‘Don’t try t’ pull none o’ your
smart stuff on me, you good-fer
nothin’ booze-guzzler!’ Maw yowl
ed at ’im, mad as a wet hen.
“ ‘Now that you’re gettin’ smart
with me,’ sayed Mike kinder mad
hisself, ‘I jest wanter tell you that
I don’t wonder at ol’ man Skinner
hanging’ out at th' fire station all
th’ time! You shore pulled some
smart stuff on that pore cuss when
you ketched him an’ wangled him
into th’ notion o’ gettin’ married—
Mizzes Skinner, I’m jest bound t’
say it—you’re ’bout th’ homeliest
woman I ever seen!’
“That were puttin’ it on purty
thick, but Maw had ast fer it,”
said Mister Skinner, “an’ ol’ Mike
delivered—she shu’dden’t oughter
complain. But Maw come right
back at 'im.
“ ‘An you, you punkin -nosea,
booze-swillin’ ol ’windbag, air th’
drunkest man I ever seen!’ Maw
yowled at ’im.
“Ol’ Mike looked at her fer a
minit before he sayed anythin’. He
seemed t’ be lookin’ her over from
haid t’ feet. Finally, he sayed:
‘Yes’m, maybe I am, but me,—■
well, I’LL BE OKAY T’MOR
ROW! Whaaaa! Whaaaa!’
“Maw was fit t’ be tied! I ain’t
never seen her stood up like that
before. She were th’ maddest per
son I ever seen. She grabbed me
by th’ arm an’ drug me t’ where
we’d parked th’ ol’ T-model. Then
she jumped under th’ wheel an’
made that ol’ rattle-trap roar like
it hadn’t roared in years. After
she’s caused everbody in two
blocks t’ turn ’round t’ see whut
buildin’ were failin’ down, she
yanked th’ pore ol’ car ’round an’
we cut fer home.”
Mister Skinner rose. As he
straightened up his wrinkled old
face went into a series of convul
sions. “Oh, my pore ol’ back!” he
said miserably.
“Let’s see what’s wrong with
that back!” said a sympathetic
fireman. A number of them gath
ered around Mister Skinner.
By lowering his trousers slight
ly, and lifting his shirt-tail a bit,
the firemen discovered the reason
for Mister Skinner’s peculiar meth
od of locomotion.
“Gosh!” exclaimed the sympa
thetic fireman in a voice filled
with awe. “Why in the world
have you got ‘N. C. 612-550’ tat
tooed across your hips?”
Mister Skinner shook his head
sadly. “That ain’t tattoin’ ”, he
said. “That’s where Maw run in
to me with th’ ol’ T-model when I
got out t’ open th’ garage door!”
Enfield
Mesdames Exum Bellamy, P. S.
Bellamy, Robert Harper and Owen
Bellamy were joint hostesses at a
most enjoyable meeting of the
Auxiliary of the Protestant Church
on Monday afternoon in the home
of Mrs. P. S. Bellamy.
On Tuesday, at her lovely coun
try home “Shell Castle” near En
field, Mrs. Spier Whitaker enter
tained at a charming luncheon
honoring Mrs. J. M. Bradley on the
eve of her departure for her home
in Nashville, Tenn., after a visit
with her daughter, Mrs. J. Holt
Evans.
On Monday evening Mrs. George
Clark was hostess to the Enfield
Baptist Fidelis Class at its month
ly business and social meeting. As
sisting hostesses were Miss Julia
Branch, Mrs. A. C. Haithcock, Mrs.
Myrtle Howell, and Mrs. Gertrudfe
Wright. There were eighteen pres
ent with Mrs. R. E. Shervette, Jr.,
president, presiding. The new of
ficers elected for the year were:
President, Mrs. R. E. Shervette, Jr.,
1st Vice President, Mrs. Kesler As
kew, 2nd Vice President, Mrs. Joe
Brown, 3rd Vice President, Miss
Mildred Gray, 4th Vice President,
Mrs. Myrtle Howell, Secretary and
Treasurer, Mrs. Harold Burrows,
Assistant Miss Virginia Ogletree,
Teacher, Mrs. Bill Burchette.
About ten ladies of the R. R. C.’s
enjoyed Monday evening in the
home of Mrs. William Pope. Con
versation and sewing featured the
evening’s entertainment, during
which time a dessert course was
served.
The Dramatic Department of the
Enfield High School presented the
faculty and three other players in
a nonsensical farce, “Calm Your
self” at the Auditorium on Wed
nesday night. Those taking part
were Miss Mary Collins, Miss Hel
en Barney, Miss Blanche Moss,
Miss Lydia Wells, Mrs. George
Randolph, E. L. Smith, Fred Hoyle,
John McGwigan, Jimmie Kinkins
and Red Bishop.
On Monday the Woman’s Mis
sionary Society of the Enfield Bap
tist Church observed the Week of
Prayer for Foreign Missions with
all day services at the church.
Each circle had half an hour pro
gram, and the three junior organi
zations also put on programs. The
envelopes with the Lottie Moon
Christmas offering were taken. A
good attendance was present.
Caivary Church
Sunday School Sunday morning
at 10:00. The Epworth League will
meet in the home of Miss Allyne
Faucette Sunday night at 7:30.
Hope there will be a large attend
ance.
IN ME MORI AIM
In loving memory of my mother
who departed Dec. 16th, 1936.
When the evening shadows
lengthen, and the sun sinks in the
West, oftentimes we fall to think
ing of the loved one gone to rest.
But dear mother you have left us
with a sad and aching heart, but
some day we hope to meet you
where we’ll never have to part.
Her daughter,
Lorell Walker.
Mrs. Gibson Hostess
Mrs. H. E. Gibson was hostess to
the Wednesday Night Bridge Club
last week. Lovely arrangements of
potted plants and fall flowers were
used throughout the living room
where three tables were arranged
for bridge. When scores were tal
lied Mrs. H. C. Wirtz was present
ed with high score prize and Mrs.
J. A. Wood second high prize. The
hostess served a delicious salad
course with coffee. Club members
and additional guests included:
Mesdames Calvin Kennemur, Chas.
Fitts, Hugh Horne, J. A. Wood,
Pete Graham, Stewart Wilson, Ar
thur Gilliam, Francis Starke, M.
F. White, H. C. Wirtz, Cranford
Hoyle and Miss Clyde Fulghum.
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