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Paa:e Two THE HYDE COUNTY HERALD. SWAN QUARTER, N. C. THURSDAY, MAR. 29, 1945 I Hyde County Herald PUBLISHED EVERY THURSDAY As t?vV AW QU AR I £R. I NORIH CAROLINA. BY TIMES PRINTING CO., Inc. THOS. E. SPENCER Editor; Gkitered as Second Class Matter at the Postoffice at Swan Quarter. N. C. Subscription Kates: One Year S2.; Six Months $1; Three Months 60c. Vol. VI THURSDAY, MARCH 29, 1945 No. 30 SPRING HOUSECLEANING (by the B-2rs!) rr. A THE RECORD SPEAKS FOR ITSELF j The record speabs for itself. It is a disgrace tp the State of j North Carolina. It is a record that has endured for more than j 20 years. The reason for this record is in the offices of the State Highway Commission at Tarboro, and maybe Raleigh for that matter. It is due to engineering arrogance, indiffer ence, neglect,^inefficiency, and of down right cruelty. If any citizen, or county or state official condones or attempts to palliate this record, then he is a traitor to his people, and is only thinking about his own \yelfare; is willing to see good people continue to silffer in order that he alone may prosper. We have some traitors professing a great interest in the people, and we have seen in many instances, how when they are given a place of trust by the people prove false to the people and work for their own profit Hence that may be why the peopile of the North Carolina coast, have been neglected these 25 years, and no roads given them. What the State Highway Commission has done for the people of Hatteras Island is worse than nothing, for such things as they have done has constituted a waste of money which operates against future improvements. The law says all principal towns shall be connected by the most direct routes. Mr. J. C. Gardner, Engineer in charge at Tbrboro knows this and has known it for 25 years. Yet so far | as one may judge from his actions, he is opposed to carrying' out the law when it comes to the people of Hatteras Island, as well as many other places of Eastern North Carolina. Let no one tell you different. He has been there 25 years. He is the high and mighty. If he had wanted to, he could have done much in that time. The fact is, he is always too busy finding an argument w^hy so and so can’t be done that he couldn’t do anything if he wanted to. Some 3,000 people live on Hatteras Island. Many of them are outstanding citizens who would be a credit to any com- I munity. In 25 years they have been faced with competition | from other sections that do have roads. As a consequence they | have seen their school advantages decline, communities! dwindle commercially, and disappear; their property depre- I oiated in value, in short countless hardships of living increase | for them because they do not have the advantages of roads, i They do not have adequate roads to the outside world. Many | of them are being forced to move away in search of better | advantages that should be theirs at home. j No, there is no excuse for it. No matter what anyone may i say in defense of the Highwaymen who have kept the peoples funds from being administered where they should be, thei record speaks for itself. A record of this kind for 25 years i is indefensible. Anyone who attempts to defend it is a trait- or to bis people. It is time that those w^ho have been entrusted with the leadership and affairs of these long suffering people, rally to their aid, ra'ther than sell out to commercialism and greed. The time is coming when the people in this territory will turn against their betrayers, but in the meantime, many are suffering. % ■'N St> V Tender Egg Rolls Are Timely New Dish G olden egg rolls, hot and tender, served with bright green peas FIRST THREE LESSONS IN DOG TRAINING “come!" ^ V--- Geftlng dom on knee hflU induce clog to come Vogis always on left side, leash held in left hand “ootyff!" Whether your dog Is a joy or a nuisance to you and your friends depends largely on one thing—his training, states the Gaines Dog R6 search Center, New York City. Actually, a dog is infinitely easier to train than a child. You will suc ceed best if you keep certain things constantly in mind. A dog is not a human and must never be judged as such. Words to him are not words but simply sounds which, after much repetition, he comes to associate with certain actions de sired of him. If the words are as sociated with a characteristic ges ture, all the better. Words spoken to him loudly or in anger only serve to confuse him. A dog should never be punished unless he is made to understand what he is being pun ished for, and punishment should follow immediately after his mis demeanor. A dog’s training should be handled by only one person, and If he has been properly trained, he will go through the motions for anyone who gives the commands properly. Below are the first three lessons In obedience every dog must learn if he is to live in civilized society. He must come to you whenever you call him, no mattei- what else he may want to do at that particular time. He must learn to "heel”, that is. walk or trot quietly at your side whenever you are out with him— not run ahead or behind you, trip yon up, or get into a fight with another dog. And he must learn to sit or lie down when you stop in the street to greet a friend or pay a Tisit to a neighbor. The principle in these lessons are applicable to almost anything else you might like te teach your dog. For a list of , recommended literature on dog training write to the Caines Dog i Research Center, 250 Park Avenue, New York. “COME!” Fasten a long string to i bis collar and let him run at will. ' When he is a dozen or so feet away gall cut sharply “Come!” while ^ndto getdfi Ifpettei CAINES-DOC RESEARCH CtNTCR { gently pulling the dog toward you. When he is near you, act as though he had obeyed you—pet or praise him, give him a tidbit. Repeat this, several times, then remove the rope and call him. Replace the rope if he does not seem to have caught on to the idea. Continue this lesson for 10 or 15 minutes a day, dropping the tidbit reward after a while. “HEEL!” Place dog on your left side, grip leash above his collar, and commence walking. Should he try to forge ahead, pull him back, the while ordering “Heel!” If he is inclined to drag behind, pull him forward, again with the command, “Heel!” Keep on Insisting on the correct heel position, and he will soon learn to maintain it no mat ter how you turn. Continue the “heeling” lesson until the dog walks as well without the leash as with it. “SIT!" or “DOWN!” The differ ence between these two is solely In the length of time the dog is re quired to maintain his posture. You take your dog lor a stroll. Sud denly you stop, command "Sit!” and press his hindquarters down until he is seated. Do this with one hand while holding his head up with the leash in the other. On the first trial he’ll probably not hold his position for more than a second or two, but pet him and express your pleasure at his conduct with “Good dog!” or the like. Do this again and again until he remains seated as long as desired. Now you order the dog to “sit” and as he obeys give the command “Down!” while gently pulling his front legs from under him. Pat and praise him as he lies full-length on the sidewalk or grass. Repeat the exer cise a dozen times a day until he reacts perfectly. Next is to order him “Down!” as you move out of his sight. As you back away, he will probably start to get up. It will take a lot of repetition before he has learned to remain in one position in one spot while you are inside visiting or shopping. in cream, make this appetizing luncheon entree. Though new to your menu planning book, flaky egg rolls are easy to make — simply spread a rectangle of biscuit dough with flavorful egg filling, roll up like a jelly roll and bake. Slice to serve. Egg Roll - Serves 5' ^ Biscuit Dough: ■ H cup blended shortening ! 2 cups sifted flour > ' 3 teaspoons baking powder' V- teaspoon salt ' % cup milk Sift together the flour, baking powder and salt. Cut In the blended shortening until the mixture is the consistency of cornmeal. Add milk, stirring until a soft dough is formed. Turn on a lightly floured board and knead a few times. Roll out into an 8 X 12-inch rectangle.. Filling: ! 6 hard-cooked eggs ' . \ Vi cup minced celery ^ 1 tablespoon minced parsley I J4 cup salad dressing v 1 teaspoon salt i 1 teaspoon prepared mustard \ 2 tea-spoons horseradish Chop eggs, add celery, parsley, salad dressing and seasonings. Blend together. Spread filling over dough evenly to within one inch of the edges. Roll up like a jelly roll. Press ends together to prevent filling from cooking out. Place on a baking sheet. Bake in a hot oven (ISO^F.) about 25 minutes or until well browned. Conserving out* sugar ration calls for dessert recipes that use little or no sugar, like these crunchy llttla pecan balls that require only y^ cup honey for sweetening. So delicious they really do "melt in your mouth" these are ideal for party refresh* ments. Pecan Balls yield: About 4 dozen 1 cup blended shortening U cup honey 2 teaspoons vanilla 2 cups sifted flour 1 teaspoon salt 2 cups finely chopped pecans'' Cream blended shortening, honey /and vanilla until fluffy. Silt flour with salt and add to creamed mix ture, blending thoroughly. Add chopped pecans, mix well. Shape into balls the size of walnuts and place on a greased baking sheet. Bake in a slow oven (325‘’F.) about 20 minutes. Cool, then roll In pow dered sugar. / FAMOUS CLOSE SHAVES By Barber Sol - ONSLAUGHT doomed our forces on a Sicilian bfachhead bp. Cognizing the desperate plight, lt oavid wavbur am riwmMiM/* tami/ vintu Sy '^OfiGk"/mn Tk£lR VANUEL FtlfiHT TtoL destroyed, the CREW OF A FORTRESS WAS FACED WITH THE DILEMMA OF BAILING OUT OVER EN- ON THEIR AUTOMATIC decided to STICK and GEORGE FLEW THEM BACK 1) ENGLAND, SAFELY, Hi. BARBERSOL SAyS: ITS NOT OVER YET- SAVE WASTE PAPER!' HOMER, ^CROY @W.N.U. SERVICE CHAPTER XX The old settlers were going. He and Phebe would get in the buggy and join the procession. When there was a G.A.R. funeral, he would put on his old blue uniform and stand by the grave; then he would come home and hang the uniform in the closet till next time. He wrote no more at all. Phebe’s j letters always ended, "Your father j says to come home whenever you 1 can.” I The inevitable happened. One day ! I got a telegram. “Your father is I failing. Phebe.” No one came to meet me at the i depot; there was no one to swing ! nay grip. But when I got out of the I jitney, Phebe was at the door to j meet me, looking old and worn, her ! eyes still framed in the gold glasses, j “He’s been asking all morning when I you’d get here.” j The old gentleman was in the ! north room, in the house south of the water tower, in the walnut bed • he had brought in from the farm. I His knotted, misshapen hands were I on the outside of the covers. He i held his hand out to me and said I in a faint voice, “I’m glad to see ' you, son. I guess you got in on the 8:10.” was writing was gooa, or noi. n a,, seemed good when the words were flowing; pretty bad when the words were stiff and cold. But I kept grinding away and managed to make a living. I have learned not to expect much happiness, I hear people say, "I am perfectly happy.” But if I tell the truth to myself and examine my inner life, I must say that I have never been perfectly happy except for the briefest moments. Some times I find myself fairly content, but contentment is only a mark down from happiness. I don’t be lieve anyone—outside of the world ol childhood—can havfe more than two or three flashes of happiness in a day. But how lovely they are! When I become restless and wish I had more real happiness in my life, I have, found two ways that I help me. One is to do something before somebody; something that ‘.mencans we met said it was d®" ighlful To me it was just pla'd cocKeyed. The crooked narrow streets, the yard-wide sidewalks, the nonsensical two-wheeled carts, td® mailman carrying his letters in ® tin box suspended from his shoul ders. The people eternally sitting d* cafes swigging beer or tiny drinks. Such a place was interesting to seCi Like a pumpkin show, but certainly not the place where I wanted to liv®- Or the kind of life I wanted to live- Dale Carnegie, who was born on a farm a few miles from where I was, came to see me. He had seen mucb more of Europe than I had; in had lived there. But when we g®* down to cases, he felt about it much as I did. I suppose you can’t ever get a fqrm out of a person, for that matter, I don’t know that * want to. 'The part 1 likted best was to see how the French farmed. Of course means giving up, something that' i couldn’t talk to them, but I walked takes time or brings inconvenience. Then I feel as Santa Claus must feel. And I get that flash of happi ness. Another way is to visit somebody who is in real trouble, or who has a reason to be unhappy. Maybe it is someone who is paralyzed, or blind, j or who has palsy. Yes, my moth- At the foot of the bed, next to the * er’s afternoon at the poorhouse. I south wall, was the old tin, camel- hate to think that the troubles of oth ers make us more content with our lot, but it’s a truth they do. How ever, as long as we can do some thing for the other person, maybe the exchange will help us both. We paid off the mortgage on the house we had worked so hard to build. Sometimes I would look at a doorknob and think, “I wonder how many words that took.” But that was all over. Paid for now. My career was beginning. We had more ambitious plans than burning a mortgage, and soon was the old tin, camel- back trunk I had taken to the uni versity. It was now covered with a I horse blanket, and I sat down on I it. I His face was drawn, but his eyes I were as blue as ever. ’The same ! spirit of mutual understanding we ^ had always when we got together, j after being separated, leaped up. I All the questions were about me. j “How is your wife, Homer?” “What I kind of weather have you been hav- I back East?” ! It was not long before he began to talk about the farm. “Homer, I we were about them. Yes, actually ! you’ve got a good farm there.” ’The on the way to Europe. One of the I poignancy touched me. He was re- j persons on the ship was Walter Lipp- , leasing his hold on the farm. “Some mann. I wrote him a note I would of them laughed at me when I got it like to meet him, and soon I was • because there wasn’t any timber on it, but it worked out pretty well!” I A gleam in his eyes there, for now he : had the best farm in the neighbor- I hood. “Your mother was always awful fond of you.” He was not one to pay compliments himself, and I realized that he was also saying this for himself. He spoke of events of years ago as if they had just happened. Once a dashy-dressed drummer for a nur sery had come to our house, driving a high-stepping livery team, and asked me to drive around with him and introduce him to the farmers. For which he would pay my father five dollars a day—a fortune. And now my father spoke of it “I’m glad I didn’t take It.” He had to rest and I crept out of the room for a while. When I looked in again his blue eyes were still open. “I wish you’d pare my finger nails.” And now I realized something that touched me. He had never been a man to show open marks of affec tion, such as putting his arm around me, as I have seen so many fathers do to their children. But now... In these last hours ... he wanted the feel of his son. I had sense enough to make the paring of the nails last as long as I could. “I’ve got my G. A. R. suit bangin’ in the closet. I’ve always been proud of it." His eyes closed; after a while they opened. “Do you remember the time I bought the buffalo robe for Christmas for your mother?” I nodded, choked with feeling. He wanted to do something for me, as it it was some final fatherly touch. “Phebe and I have a goOd feather bed upstairs we’re not usin’. How would you like to have it?” I explained as gently as 1 could that people in New York did not use feather beds. “I suppose not,” he said with a sigh. It was not long before he was back to the farm. “It’s all free and clear. It’s been my ambition to leave it to you that way and that’s what I’m doing. Don’t ever put a mortgage on it. They eat like a cancer.” The time came when I must go I back, and 1 went in and sat on the camel-backed trunk for the last time. Finally when the moment came, I shook his gnarled hand. “Take care of yourself, Homer.” It was the last thing he ever said to me. After I had been back about a week, I got word that the end had come. I could not go to the funeral . . . only in my thoughts. 1 built a home in Forest Hills, j Long Island, New York (‘"The Lit- tie House with the Big Mortgage” I caUed it) and wrote two more ping books. 1 wrote all sorts of stuff, and that’s just about what it was. There was my old trouble of nev- Koir.i- able to tell whether what I buying him a drink. How sweet it was to consort with the famous, el- i The crooked narrow streets, the yard-wide sidewalks. bow to elbow, no looking up and no looking down. And it was not long before we were in Paris. Wonderful Paris! That was the way I had always seen it described and that was the way it was always mentioned by re turning friends. But I had to see it through my own eyes. It was dis appointing. It was odd and strange and it was interesting, but certainly not wonderful. Nothing seemed to be logical, and to me the people seemed to be slightly on the de mented side. I looked at the French through what were, I supposed, cornfield eyes, but I was making up my mind as to what I saw and felt. They seemed aloof and artificial, some times on the verge of childishness. Now that I look back, this may have been because I met only the French who came in contact with the public. I did not get into a home where I could meet ’’the real French,” as my wiser and more experienced friends called them; and I could not parley their lan guage. So I had to judge by what I saw. And that was what 1 have done all my life. I realize much of it has been wrong, but still it was my own point of view. We went to the Riviera and took rooms at the Grand Hotel in Sainte Maxime and I went to work on an idea for the novel that was to fol low "West of the Water Tower.” The guidebook said Sainte Maxime was one of the lovely spots on the Mediterranean, and the two or three across their land and watched theffl working. I must have watched syifi' pathetically, for none chased roe I was fascinated by their marke' days and, no matter how hard I w®® supposed to be working, I manage® to be there. Taking pigs to market in baskets! Carrying sheep with tbeU feet lashed over a pole! It was farming. Having a manure pile j®®* outside the house. It was disgusting- But when I looked a little deep®' and saw the handicaps the farm' ers had to overcome, and their p®®' soil and primitive machinery, tvl respect went up. It was toy farm ing, but, everything considered, they turned in a good job. Often I thought how I would li'^® to take one of them to my fa'®'’ and show him the long straight stone less rows, three horses abrea® swinging down a black loam field’ * whole hill covered with steers, a fe® lot alive with shoats. How he woul blink. Yet these French farm®*® knew tricks I didn’t. If our I'd'®' souri farmers had to clop around m wooden shoes and plow with a foui"' inch moldboard . . . would we hav® done any better? In the spring we went back *® Paris. The day after we arrived, a® Homer, Junior, was riding his ff’' cycle around the hotel grounds h® put his hand on his back and saidj® his childish voice that his back hurt- By morning he was worse. We g®‘ the doctors at the American H®®' pital, and they also brought in i^® best professeurs in Paris to help our Uttle boy. How far from hom® we seemed! But it wasn’t really ®® far, after aU, for five American® came to our hotel to ask if there wa® anything they could do. But son®®" times no one can help. He died in that lonely Paris hot®!- But in the next room were thr®® Americans we had never seen b® fore who had come, as they said, case we needed them.” When our little boy was buri®d from the American Church, ^®'^ must have been a dozen American® there we had never seen before an who came up and offered their sym' pathy. A kind-faced man I had nev er seen before and have never s®®“ since, put his arm around my der and said: “The rest of ^ asked me to say they know how y® must feel when this happens so fa from home.” It made America seem very cl®®®’ When the coffin, covered with an American fiag, was taken throug the streets, the Frenchmen their hats. That helped, too. B ® helped and yet, at such a tina®> nothing helps, for when the crises in big come we enter them al®®®^ But some way or other we do them, we do go on living, we laug again. After twenty-two months in rope we returned to 10 Standi® Road. (Item: fourteen windowpan®^ in our little house were broken.) had been a lovely fling, but all of ® money was gone. One day a real estate neig!*^®^ “dropped” in to see me. (On wba small incidents does the door of ® swing.) 1 had known him for s®*®^ time, and had seen his cars g®® j bigger and rakier. Now what wa® going to do? he asked. Well, f going to plug along as best I *0*7 j Then he asked me about how much expected to make without quite s® ing it. And when I told him quite telling him, he looked tressed. It was a shame to person work so hard and get »o tie. He began to tell about he had pulled off. He wasn’t only one doing that; everybody * ^ making money in real estate. person had to do was to get ‘ ® trol” of a piece of property, bang a while, then sell at a whacki® price. My tongue was soon bang out. He mentioned two or tf® men who, as he said, were play the game. 1 began to think of sell as playing the game. There was a piece of P®®!***^ coming onto the market by f®^®g, sale; it was an easy way for a®"® body to. pic^ up sorne easy mo® {Please turn to Page 4)
The Hyde County Herald (Swan Quarter, N.C.)
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March 29, 1945, edition 1
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