Newspapers / The Cherokee Scout (Murphy, … / June 12, 1941, edition 1 / Page 2
Part of The Cherokee Scout (Murphy, N.C.) / About this page
This page has errors
The date, title, or page description is wrong
This page has harmful content
This page contains sensitive or offensive material
Gems of Thought art ? ?f living is con * cerned with human rela tionships even more than with wild Nature, -Havcloek Ellis. All a woman has to do in this world in contained within the duties of a daughter, a sis ter, a wife, and a mother. ? Steele. S,/* ?-.iw it /Kim #/i\ only r?*<f 1% Inhor f*?r a wnth\ ?-?W. II hitlier. In all science error precedes the truth, and it is better it should go first than last. ? Walpole. You have no leisure to read books? What thru? You have leisure to check your own in solence.? Marcus Aurclius. FAMOUS ALL-BRAN MUFFINS. EASY TO MAKE. DELICIOUS! Thcv really nre the most delicious muf fins' that rver melted a butter! Made with cr: -p. lca*ted shreds of KELLOGO'S ALL-BRAN, they have a texture and flavor that have made them famous all over America. KELLOGG'S ALL-BRAN MUFFINS 2 tablespoons cup milk shortening 1 cup flour ft cup sugar \ 2 teaspoon salt 1 egg 2\i teaspoons 1 cup All-Bran baking powder Cream shortening and sugar: add egg and bert well. Stir In All-Bran and milk, let soak until most of moisture Is taken up. Sift Hour with salt and baking powder: add to first mixture and stir only until ilour disappears. Fill greased muffin pans two-thirds full and bake in moderately hot ov-m <400?F.) about 30 minutes. Yield: 0 large muf fins. :i Inches In diameter, or 12 small muffins, 2' 4 inches In diameter. Try these delicious muflins for din ner tonight or for tomorrow morning's breakfast. They're not only good to eat; they're mighty good for you as well. For several of these muffins will add materially to your dally supply of what physicians call ??bulk" In the diet, and thus help combat the common kind of constipation that Is due to lack of this dietary essential. Eat ALL-BRAN every day (either as a cereal or in muHins), drink plenty of water, and see if you don't forget all about constipation due to lack of "bulk." ALL-BRAN Is mado by Kellogg's in Battle Creek. Time for Greatness Nothing great is produced sud denly, since not even the grape or tig is. If you say to me now fhat you want a fig. I will answer to vet that it requires time; let it flower first, then put forth fruit, and then ripen. ? Epictctus. ****STftR HIT FOR PENETRO ?S!&f Economizing Time Laziness grows on people; it begins in cobwebs and ends in iron chains. The more business a man has io do. the mere he is able to accomplish; for he learns to econ omize his time.? Hale. ? Help to Relieve Distress of FEMALE PERIODIC COMPLAINTS Try Lydla E. Pink bum's Vegetable Compound to help relieve monthly P?'?; headaches, backache and ALSO calm Irritable nerves due to monthly functional disturbances. Pmkham's Compound Is simply marvelous to help build up resist ance against distress of "difficult days. Famous for over 60 years! Hundreds of thousands of girls and women report remarkable benefits. WORTH TRYING! WNU ? 7 24 ? 41 Misnamed Oft lias Kood nature been the fool's defense, and honest mean ing fiilded want of sense.? Shen stone. Today '? popularity of Doan's Pills, after many years of world wide use, sorely must be accepted as cridcncr I of satisfactory use. And favorable public opinion supports that of the able physicians who test the value of Doan's under exacting laboratory conditions. * j *??? approve every word ?f advrrtisin g you read, the objective of which is only to recommend Jfoan's Pills *. fc??d diuretic treatment for disorder ft t,lc. kv\n*y function and for relief of toe pain and worry it causes. If more people were aware of how the Kidneys must constantly remove waste that cannot stay in the blood without in jury to health, there would lx* hctter un dfrMffldmit of why the whole body suffers wii^n ki'lneys In?, and diuretic medica tion would be more often employed. t Burning, ?eanty or too frequent urina tion sometimes warn of disturbed kidney function. You may suffer nacreing back arhe, persistent headache, attacks of dir tiness, retting up n?*ht?. swelling. puflv ness under the eyes ? feel weak, nervous, all fUyH out. Vse Dock's Pillt. It is better to rely on a medicine that has won world-wide *c claim than on something less favorably known. Ask your neighbor I Sidney Lander, mining engineer. is e? f ugvd to Barbara Trumbull, but apparently ha* (alien In love with Carol Coburn. Mata nuska school teacher. Salarla Dry son. one of her pupils, a big out-door girl, is also in love with him. Carol's father died in Alaska with an unproven claim which Trumbull Is contesting, lender quits his employ, be comes field manager fur the Matanuska Valley project. Sock-Eye Schlupp. an old sourdough, and others, arc skeptical of the project's success Eric (the Red) Erlcson has been stirring discord among the work ers. At last. too. a school Is put up. Salarla discusses Sidney with Carol. Salaria has no Idea Carol Is interested li> him. Teacher and pupil find m common rival In Barbara. 1XSTAI.IMENT XII "Love is never wasted," I said, reaching for solid ground in that copybook maxim. Salaria's glowering eyes studied mv face. "Then why." the demanded, ifuui.-s a silk-weann' and washed-out she cat who ain't got the nuts t' stick t' his side ti<- up a real man like Sid Lander? Why should she har poon him for life and then back-trail t* the States and reckon he's safe among us walrus-eaters?" I gravely considered that double barreled question. "I suppose it's because he's a man of honor," 1 finally affirmed. Salaria crossed to the door and looked out at the towering peaks of the Talkcetnas. "Honor wouldn't cut much ice," she said over her shoulder, "if I was the blubber-eater he was pick in' out. If he wanted a woman around his wickyup as much as he wants this cock eyed colony on the map," she abandonedly proclaimed, "he'd damned soon see my shoe packs under his bunk rail!" I kept telling myself, after that talk with Salaria, that there was something dignifying in the job of teaching, in molding the minds of the young, in bringing light into the dark places of the wprld. I was the lamp in the valley. But the lamp, plainly, stood in need of some new oil. And full as my days were, I'd a feeling that something important in life was for ever slipping around the corner be fore I could quite catch up with it. Yet all I could do, I argued with myself, was to tighten my belt and carry on. I'd no intention of turning into a grumbler. These two hundred families, I maintained, would even tually do for Alaska what the cov ered wagoners did for the Coast States, seventy long years ago. Or even what the Pilgrim Fathers did for New England. Yet construction lagged because wrong material had been sent in and the workers wouldn't work. Some of the misfits and trouble makers had already been sent back to the States, to spread the news of the colony's collapse. Some ot tne others imposed on the Commissary and wolfed more than their share of the supplies. Some growled in se cret and some drew up a daily round-robin of complaints. Others went to Wasilla and got drunk. In a city of tents, where privacy was unknown, I saw things and heard things that at first touched me with horror: love-making with all the candor of the kennel, family fights echoing through thin walls of canvas, the moans of child-birth mixed with the strains of a mouth organ, a loose woman with a ca nine cluster of idlers about her, stripped men bathing openly in wash-tubs, mothers in sunny cor ners combing lice from their chil dren's hair, girls jeered at as they slipped into an unscreened outhouse, stained sheets and flimsy underwear flapping on clotheslines, farm-stock surrendering to the biologic urge under one's very nose, profanity and praying side by side, grossness and greediness, empty cans and ofTal, crying babies and thrumming ban jos. It was all honest and open enough. It was too open, from Betsy Sebeck unbuttoning her waist and giving her big breast to a crying baby with a dozen males watching the operation, to the bed-pots which, in a land without plumbing, had to be emp tied in the light of day. But that re version to the primitive. I told Katie, produced both a bluntness of address and a coarseness of fiber. And women, I contended, felt it most. "We're here," said Katie, "for just one end: to work and repro duce." "That," I retorted, "leaves us no better than animals." "Well, that's what we are," Ka tie affirmed, "only the fripperies make us forget it." "But surely civilization's brought us something worth keeping," I sug gested. Katie laughed. "We're not as civilized as you im agine," she said as she buttoned her mannish-looking leather coat. "You'll find that out when your ba by's pulling at your breast." A touch of unrest, I noticed, ex tended even to my pupils. They could boast of a big yellow motor bus to carry them to the school door every morning. But only a sprin kling of them came. Compared with the children of the old-timers, the stolid little Scandinavians and Finns and native Alaskans who were in ured to hardship, the ARC new comers were both harder to manage and more ??*^<-ting in their demands. They arrived well fed and well clothed their lunch-boxes stuffed with Commissary food. They were eyed with envy by the native-born children, who probably saw an or ange only at Christmas. But these wards of. Uncle Sam came carry ing two or three oranges, day by day.- Sometimes they had grapefruit and chocolate bars and store cake. Since the supply proved unlimited, they liked to have a pitched battle with those comestibles. After a final overreckless barrage of oranges I had to make it a rule that no Project child was to bring more than one orange into the class room. I was singing as I went to the road with my water pail one morn "Why avoid me, Moon of my Delight?" ing. And as I turned I came face to face with Eric the Red. "Why avoid me. Moon of my De light?" he said with his habitual and hateful mockery. "Why shouldn't I?" I asked. I compelled myselt to meet his For along the road I could see the approaching figure of Olie Eckstrom, swinging his tin milk pail as he whistled to the tree tops. There was something maddening about the cool assurance of Eric son's smile. "Why should you, sweet lady, when it's written in the stars we're to come together?" His laugh was both brief and unpleasant. "I'm still awaiting that happy hour. And when it arrives I don't intend to be the forgotten man." I made no response to that. In stead, I turned and called to Olie, who quickened his pace as he caught sight of me. My little Swedish friend was no Goliath, but even his diminu tive figure meant an acceptable ally along that lonely road. Ericson, watching that figure in bibbed overalls, essayed an ironic gesture of farewell and moved on down the road. " 'E ban a bad man," Olie an nounced with quiet conviction. | "Why do you say that?" I askpH. Olie's answer, when he gave his reasons, was in English both broken and bewildering. But in the end it rather took my breath away. For from the slow-tongued Swede boy I gathered that he had been in the habit of collecting building blocks for his sister Frieda, small board ends that could be picked up be tween the lumber piles along the siding track. The workmen there were apt to treat him roughly and drive him away with a cuff and a kick. So it was natural, the night before, that he should promptly hide away when he heard voices. But he was able to gather the gist of the talk among those transient sore heads. And their plan, apparently, was to stage a demonstration in front of the Commissary (where a curb had been put on the open-hand ed distribution of Federal supplies) and while the officials were busy with that riot Ericson and his fol lowers were to start a fire, a purely accidental fire, in the great piles of timber and equipment that lined the railway track. CHAPTER XVIII Lander listened, with a quiet enough eye, as I told him what I could of Olie's story. Instead of venturing any comment on the situation he asked me if John Trumbull had been in touch with I me during the last lew days. When I informed him to the contrary he led me over to his truck, saying he'd be glad to drop me at my school door. "But you can't tell how this will turn out," I argued, "and if it's go ing to be dangerous I want to be around." "That's just when I don't want you around," he said. "You've had trouble enough in this valley." Our glances locked, for a mo ment, and I could see a warmer light well up in his eyes. His brief laugh was both cool and self-confi dent. But when we stopped at Palmer and he had a quiet look over the towering supply piles along the sid ing there his face took on a new se riousness. For hidden under a lay- : er of empty hemp bales, between two piles of pine flooring, he fend a five-gallon can ot gasoline. The con- | tents of this can he quietly emp tied into his truck tank. Then, aft er a moment's thought, he filled the can with water. Making sure his movements were unobserved, he re stored the cap to the can and re stored the can to its hiding place under the hemp bales. My pupils didn't get the attention they should have that day. There was many a flicker, before the aft ernoon wore away, in the lamp of learning. 1 was still in my classroom, after the big yellow bus had carried away the last of the children, when Sock Eye appeared in the doorway. "1 ain't much of a hand at g'og raphy," he said as his bearlike eyes blinked up at my wall map, "but I've got me a homemade chart here I'm needin' a mess o' help on." He produced a soiled and rum pled sheet of paper diversified with many pencil-markings and placed it on the desk top in front of me. "What's this?" I asked, trying in vain to read some meaning into the roughly penciled lines. "That," said Sock-Eye, "is a map o' Klondike Coburn's claim on the Chakitana as I kin best work it out. That's the mine, remember, that ought t' be youm." "John Trumbull says it shouldn't," I reminded him. "And Sid Lander says it does," retorted Sock-Eye. "But I ain't go in" into that now, girlie. What I want t' check up on is where them location stakes o' your old pappy ought to stand." His stubby finger pointed to a marking on the map. "Here's the Chakitana, and it ought t' be about here the Big Squaw comes in. But I can't figger out which side o' that crick the Trumbull outfit is anchored to." "I'm afraid I can't help you much," I said. "You see, Sock Eye, I've never been there." "Then why ain't you there now?" demanded the old fire-eater. "Because I'm needed here m tne valley," I answered. "And Sidney Lander's supposed to be looking aft er my claim." "Yes," snapped Sock-Eye, "fuss in' round with these pie-eatin' pikers and waitin' for a bunch of law sharks t' put in the final word. But court rutin's don't git you nowhere, back on the cricks." I sat looking at Sock-Eye until he shifted a little uneasily under my gaze. I was thinking, as I studied his seamed old face, that he was so misplaced in time that he was pa thetic. He impressed me, for all his bristlings of belligerency, a> childishly helpless before the newer forces crowding in on his trail. He made me think of a cumbersomely armored turtle, overconfident of his safety as he ambles along a motor highway between the flashing wheels of change that could so easily crush him. "What's right or wrong," I final ly observed, "isn't decided by gun powder." Sock-Eye's laugh was brief and raucous. "More'n once, girlie, I've seen it blow a short cut t' the seat o' jus tice," he said as he patted the worn leather of his gun holster. "And this valley wouldn't be where she i> '? if she could rouse up a leather slapper or two t' straighten her out." The desolate old figure took a biU of plug tobacco, chewed vigorously, and spat into the stove front. "Filled with a mess o' women and gas car? that ain't needed here." "The trouble with you," I sug- i gested, "is that you've lived too long alone." Sock-Eye looked at me with tha kingly scorn of the unmated male. "Because I never got me a wom an?" he demanded. "If you want to put it that way," I acceded. Still again Sock-Eye spat adroitly into the stove front. "I ain't had trade nor truck with 'em for forty odd years," h? ! averred. "And I guess I'll git along without 'em to the last roundup. No | ma'am, I ain't succumbed t' th? plumb loco idee a shack ain't 1 1 home unless there's a female fussin' round the dough-crock." "What can you do?" I asked. Sock-Eye chuckled in his leatharj old throat. I TO BF. CONTINUED) Yi yct'T ?J ^ $ That's I.ove "If you love work, wi y dun'i you look for it?" "Alas, lady, love is blind!" The seven ages of women art: Her own and six guesses. No Airs "Shall I /mini \t?li irt rifnina ilr "Oh, Hon I miikr any /uv?. Jn?i n,.?, y>>ur 11 \l nil smock" Admitted Mistake "What's wrong ?vith your fin ger?" "I hammered the wrong nail." THAT SORT Spree? Chugwater makes very sure of himself before he dues any bragging. WhiHenpoof ? Ah, he's a saf? blower, then! Some Proof Helen? Do you believe the say ing that there arc always as good fish in the sea as ever were caught? Thelma? I'm not quite sure. Th? I uncaught ones must be smuitei. Back Talk A little norm was frchn r I one I Y, *o he popped nut and looked ti/iout lor someone to play with. At ln.it he noticetl another little norm, and said, "Will you come and play?" The other little worm replied: "Don't he dull. I'm v our other end." So It Seems The angler had just landed a catch when the inquisitive woman 1 chanced to be passing. "Oh," she exclaimed, "that poor little fish!" The angler replied: "Well, madam, if he'd kept his mouth shut he wou'd not have got into trouble!" ! INDIGESTION may affect the Heart Gas trapped in the stomach or gullet may act like a halr-ulcgcT on toe heart. At the ttrst ticu or <luir?a t mart men and women depend on Bell-am TaWrti to ??t eas free. No laxative but made of tbe fa?test I 52JP? known 'or ar'd lndlrertlon If tha JIRST DOSK doesn't prove Hell-ant tietur. return bottle to us and reedto dofiwi.k Maury lUci. Are We Witless? We dare not trust our wii iu r making our house pleasant to our friends, and so we buy ice cream. ? Emerson. WORLD'S LARGEST^v SELLER AT flflA SUOSEPHMIH^ Finishing Touches There's a divinity that shapes our ends, rough-hew them how we will. ? Shakespeare. Fortune Corrupts We are corrupted by good for tune.? Tacitus. GET THIS BIBLE FREE! For over 70 years. RTate fill user* hnve preferred Wintersmith'sTonic for Malaria. We want YOU to try Wintersmith's ? therefore offer you this complete 761-paire Holy Bible. FREE, if you'll aend us two snail Wintersraith carton tops (or 1 lar?e carton top). Just mail to Wintersmith Chemical Co., Inc., 660 Hill Street, j Louisville. Kentucky .
The Cherokee Scout (Murphy, N.C.)
Standardized title groups preceding, succeeding, and alternate titles together.
June 12, 1941, edition 1
2
Click "Submit" to request a review of this page. NCDHC staff will check .
0 / 75