The Hancock-Henderson Quill, Inc.

The Wisdom Of Barnyard Bruke: "A windy ain't a lie "less you tell it for th' truth"

Greetings to all in western Illinois. I'm a think'n by now, a right smart shower would be about what the doctor ordered to finish off these crops.

It was a year ago August 23rd that one of them there jet streams fell off course an smashed those folk up north.

Kirkwood was particularly hit hard and I remember, whilst gandering at many of those corn fields, that it seemed someone had let a steam roller loose.

You could see a rabbit foot in many a field. "A windy ain't a lie "less ya tell it for th' truth." But it was hard to exaggerate on what that big blow did!

These is excit'n times to be country folk. We just got done with another Old Tyme Farm Show, number 16 to be exact.

Hats off to all who made the event a success and worked so hard to bring it off.

Things like that just don't happen and they are such a blessing in fellowship and bring'n the community together.

The memories of the "Good Old Days" ain't bad, and events like these bring them back in real life style.

For the spell that I spent with those folks at the show "I felt as contended as cows inna' cornfield."

Comin' up next weekend is the Argyle Gas Engine Show, north of Colchester, and the Old Threshers Reunion at Pontiac and Mt. Pleasant, Iowa.

If'n that ain't enough to while your time away, there's the 65th National Sweet Corn Festival at Hoopeston.

With all those events coming up, Labor Day weekend makes me "happier "n a dog inna' meat-packin' house."

This time of the year also signals the serious start of school days.

Now me an' Cornelius went to school in a one room school house with all eight grades taught together in that one room. Drank water from a common bucket and dipper, and no fancy plumbing.

I have some fond memories of those days, as well.

I remember Cornelius as a young'n crawling up on the roof to have a peak thru the sky light of the girls restroom, to satisfy his unending and meandering curiosity.

Problem is, as he looked down, Ole Miss Dunbar, our teacher, was a look'n up to see what kind of varmint was a scrambl'n around on the roof.

Miss Dunbar was as strict as they come and probably a might stricter than most!

When poor ole Cornelius gazed downward, he laid both eyeballs on Miss Dunbar-with a switch in her hand and fire in her eyes.

Cornelius' eyes got so big, you couldn't tell if'n for sure he weren't a coon.

With a hard whach she hit the side of the wall and he started a fall like no coon could imagin'.

Down comes roll'n Cornelius tumblin this way and that, until his bib overall catches a shingle nail near the edge of the roof and off he sails flapp'n all the way. Broke his arm right proper in the fall, but that didn't deter Miss Dunbar.

"She was ever' bit as mad as an ol' settin' hen fresh kicked off her nest of eggs."

I'll never forget her shak'n young Cornelius with his arm a flopp'n to the wind and her command'n him never to do a trick like that again.

Believe me, neither Cornelius or any of the rest of us scholars ever thought about gett'n on that roof again.

Myself, I had another problem with Miss Dunbar, of another kind.

In fact, she always rubbed me the wrong way in this regard. You see, I had the mistak'n notion that you went to school to learn. And what better place to learn the "art of communication" than a room full of eager to learn students.

But for Miss Dunbar, my idea of using school to learn communication was the last straw.

You see, her idea of learning involved silence and listenin'.

We were at logger heads for a short while until the switch came out.

Then I learned the lesson of submission! Hard tell'n what I might have amounted to in life had I been allowed to master the art of communication.

All said and done, we all loved Miss Dunbar to pieces.

She was dedicated to her field and with out her discipline hard tell'n what trouble I might have gotten myself into.

Who knows, maybe I might become a banker or preacher or someth'n.

Maybe mak'n a pile of money and hav'n to pay a bunch of taxes!?

In the meantime I'm completely satisfied doing just as I am, farmin'.

Have a good labor day weekend and build some precious memories with your family and friends.

Pray for a gentle falling rain, and I'll "catch ya later,

Barnyard Bruke