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8 THE NORMAL RECORD. best stories I ever heard, and another golden virtue of his was that he always answered my questions. In short, Uncle Parks knew everything that was worth knowing, and he was a young man, too. Strange, one never meets any perfect people after she is twelve. I guess people must have degenerated since uncle's time. It is not my nature to be quiet long, so I slipped out of the chair and went nearer to the sleeper in the hammock. "Uncle Parks, you are not asleep, are you?" I said in a loud, clear voice. "I was asleep, but I am not now; I am kind of glad that you woke me up. I have a 'crick' in my neck already." Now, wasn't that nice of him. If it had been my older sister, she would have said, "Oh, you are the most provoking child; why can't you. let one rest?" "It is pretty lonesome in the country, don't you think? I sat still for hours when you were asleep, and it seemed as if I were the only person in the world. Don't you suppose you could tell a story; I haven't heard a decent one since you were here Christmas?" He rolled over and gave a big yawn; then a little funny wrinkle crept about the corner of his eye, and he said, "Little girl, there is something upstairs that I want pretty badly." "Yes, Uncle Parks," I answered demurely. "It's a couple of cigars; you'll find them on the bureau;" and, feeling in his pocket, "bring me some matches, too. Then we'll see about the other." I stopped just a minute to look at the photographs in uncle's room. He usually had pictures of the prettiest ladies—ladies who dressed their hair in wonderful ways, and wore such beautiful dresses. These dresses were all trimmed with lace and ribbons, and were cut so that they showed plump, full necks and lovely white arms. Why didn't my sister and the school teacher and the rest of the ladies around Long Bar wear dresses like that? Today, however, there was only one picture on the mantle—a woman with a pretty face, but such a dress! It was a dark thing, with white collars and cuffs, and a white apron. Her hair was covered with a white cap. Uncle Parks must be losing his love for the beautiful, I thought. * * * * "Well," began uncle, as he leaned back in the hammock, and soft blue wreathes com menced to float in the air, "I am going to tell you a little story about San Francisco. "Last Christmas, when I went back to college, the train was pretty well crowded, but I managed to find a fourth of a seat beside a sleeping German and his pipe. I was thankful to find even that small fraction of a seat, for I had spent the night in dancing and then driven twenty miles to the station." (I had heard the school teacher say that my uncle was an "adorable" dancer, and had meant to look the word up in the dictionary.) "To help matters out, a fat man had trampled on my toe in his rush for a seat. I had just begun to be comfortable, when in came the sweetest girl you ever saw. She carried a dress suit case, and of course she was looking for a seat. I forgot all about my aching bones and crushed toe the minute I saw her. Soon she was sitting in my seat. " 'If you don't mind, I'll leave my suit case here,' I said. " 'Certainly, leave it,' she replied, with a smile. "I stood in the rear of the car, looking at the back of the girl's head. She wore a little gray walking hat, and her golden hair was beautiful in contrast. Her hair was the color of ripe wheat stalks in the sunshine." (Uncle Parks did use some of the most beautiful figures of speech. Sometimes he reminded me of Longfellow.) "The girl was not very well dressed, and there was a shyness about her that told me she came from the country. "I pulled out a letter and read it. It was an invitation to be best man. Jack was always a queer stick; Jack had chosen the best man, and his bride had chosen the bridesmaid secretly. Jack nor I did not know whom the bridesmaid would be, and the bride did not know that I was to be honored. "The wedding day was to be that evening at 8:30 o'clock. Even the thoughts of the music, the wedding supper and the honor conferred upon me were not so alluring to me as my bed; I was very tired, but you see, little girl, when you grow up and get into society, you'll have to do many things that the flesh rebels against. "I was thinking still of the wedding when the train lurched and stood still. We had reached my destination. I saw the girl in gray carry her suit case down the steps and disappear in the crowd. I took mine from under the
Object Description
Title | The Normal Record. June 1905 |
Original Date | 1905-06 |
Description | The Record. Published by the Associated Students of Chico State College. |
Creator | Chico State College |
Location of Original | Archives |
Call Number | LD723 C57 |
Digital Collection | The Record: Chico State Yearbook Collection |
Digital Repository | Meriam Library, California State University, Chico. |
Description-Abstract | The Record served as both a student magazine and a commencement program for Chico Normal School. In the year 1905 it was published nearly every month. |
Date Digital | 2013 |
Language | eng |
Rights | For information on the use of the images in this collection contact the Special Collections Department at 530.898-6342 or email: specialcollections@csuchico.edu |
Format | image/tiff |
Filename | index.cpd |
Description
Title | 1905_06_NormalRecord.010 |
Original Date | 1905-06 |
OCR- Transcript | 8 THE NORMAL RECORD. best stories I ever heard, and another golden virtue of his was that he always answered my questions. In short, Uncle Parks knew everything that was worth knowing, and he was a young man, too. Strange, one never meets any perfect people after she is twelve. I guess people must have degenerated since uncle's time. It is not my nature to be quiet long, so I slipped out of the chair and went nearer to the sleeper in the hammock. "Uncle Parks, you are not asleep, are you?" I said in a loud, clear voice. "I was asleep, but I am not now; I am kind of glad that you woke me up. I have a 'crick' in my neck already." Now, wasn't that nice of him. If it had been my older sister, she would have said, "Oh, you are the most provoking child; why can't you. let one rest?" "It is pretty lonesome in the country, don't you think? I sat still for hours when you were asleep, and it seemed as if I were the only person in the world. Don't you suppose you could tell a story; I haven't heard a decent one since you were here Christmas?" He rolled over and gave a big yawn; then a little funny wrinkle crept about the corner of his eye, and he said, "Little girl, there is something upstairs that I want pretty badly." "Yes, Uncle Parks," I answered demurely. "It's a couple of cigars; you'll find them on the bureau;" and, feeling in his pocket, "bring me some matches, too. Then we'll see about the other." I stopped just a minute to look at the photographs in uncle's room. He usually had pictures of the prettiest ladies—ladies who dressed their hair in wonderful ways, and wore such beautiful dresses. These dresses were all trimmed with lace and ribbons, and were cut so that they showed plump, full necks and lovely white arms. Why didn't my sister and the school teacher and the rest of the ladies around Long Bar wear dresses like that? Today, however, there was only one picture on the mantle—a woman with a pretty face, but such a dress! It was a dark thing, with white collars and cuffs, and a white apron. Her hair was covered with a white cap. Uncle Parks must be losing his love for the beautiful, I thought. * * * * "Well," began uncle, as he leaned back in the hammock, and soft blue wreathes com menced to float in the air, "I am going to tell you a little story about San Francisco. "Last Christmas, when I went back to college, the train was pretty well crowded, but I managed to find a fourth of a seat beside a sleeping German and his pipe. I was thankful to find even that small fraction of a seat, for I had spent the night in dancing and then driven twenty miles to the station." (I had heard the school teacher say that my uncle was an "adorable" dancer, and had meant to look the word up in the dictionary.) "To help matters out, a fat man had trampled on my toe in his rush for a seat. I had just begun to be comfortable, when in came the sweetest girl you ever saw. She carried a dress suit case, and of course she was looking for a seat. I forgot all about my aching bones and crushed toe the minute I saw her. Soon she was sitting in my seat. " 'If you don't mind, I'll leave my suit case here,' I said. " 'Certainly, leave it,' she replied, with a smile. "I stood in the rear of the car, looking at the back of the girl's head. She wore a little gray walking hat, and her golden hair was beautiful in contrast. Her hair was the color of ripe wheat stalks in the sunshine." (Uncle Parks did use some of the most beautiful figures of speech. Sometimes he reminded me of Longfellow.) "The girl was not very well dressed, and there was a shyness about her that told me she came from the country. "I pulled out a letter and read it. It was an invitation to be best man. Jack was always a queer stick; Jack had chosen the best man, and his bride had chosen the bridesmaid secretly. Jack nor I did not know whom the bridesmaid would be, and the bride did not know that I was to be honored. "The wedding day was to be that evening at 8:30 o'clock. Even the thoughts of the music, the wedding supper and the honor conferred upon me were not so alluring to me as my bed; I was very tired, but you see, little girl, when you grow up and get into society, you'll have to do many things that the flesh rebels against. "I was thinking still of the wedding when the train lurched and stood still. We had reached my destination. I saw the girl in gray carry her suit case down the steps and disappear in the crowd. I took mine from under the |