Читать книгу Memory's Storehouse Unlocked, True Stories. Pioneer Days In Wetmore and Northeast Kansas онлайн

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Published in Wetmore Spectator

May 29, 1931

By John T. Bristow

It was a lazy October afternoon. The woods were still in full leaf and the tops of the trees, touched by early frost, had turned to reddish brown and golden yellow. It was a fine day for squirrel hunting. But this is not strictly a hunting story.

There were six in the party—three men of widely varying ages and, as the college youth would say, three skirts — but, for convenience, all wore trousers that afternoon. It was a sort of boarding-house party out for recreation and game. They were: Mrs. Edna Weaver, Miss Genevieve Weaver, Miss Thelma Sullivan, Milton Mayer, Raymond Weaver and the writer.

Our wanderings carried us into the heavily wooded section near the head of Wolfley creek. I had no hunter’s license and, being a law-loving citizen, carried no gun. The hunters, alert for game, went deep into the woods. And I trailed along, not noticing, not caring, where we were going. Having passed the stage of life when one normally gives a whoop where he is or what he does, to me, one place was as good as another.