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About The frontier. (O'Neill City, Holt County, Neb.) 1880-1965 | View Entire Issue (June 17, 1943)
MY'FRIEND < FLICKA1* sH MARY O'HARA The STORY SO FAR; Ten-year-old Ken McLaughlin can ride any horse on Ms family’s Wyoming ranch, but he wants a colt of his own. His father, a retired army officer, refuses to give him one when he learns that Ken has not been promoted. But Ms mother con vinces Captain McLaughlin that the colt may be just what Ken needs. He has a hard time choosing his colt until he sees the yearling filly of a ‘Toco" mare named Rocket. Loco Is the horse breeder's name for a no-good, untamable horse. Now Ken has come to the breakfast ta ble beaming with joy and simply dying to tell someone of Ms discovery of Rocket and her colt. Now continue with the story. CHAPTER Vn If you can raise good calves and colts on it, I guess you can raiss boys, Nell reasoned. And McLaugh lin, with a long line of oat-eating Scotch ancestors behind his brawn and toughness, agreed. With the oatmeal there was al ways a big pitcher of yellow Guern sey cream and a bowl of brown sugar. Nell, smiling, pushed them toward Ken, noticing the unusual color in his face. The boy flashed a glance at his mother; his eyes were dark with excitement. His whole face was lit up—transfigured really —and she felt a slight sense of shock. What had happened? He had been different all week, more sure of himself, more alert and happy, but this— Rob McLaughlin was looking at Ken too, not missing a thing. Some thing had happened that morning on the range— "What horse did you ride?" asked he. '■Lady.” “And where is she now? On her way to the border?” jocularly. “I put her in the Home Pasture. She’s out there at the fountain now.” "Was she hot?” “No, sir, I cooled her off coming home.” There was a little smile of pride on Ken’s face, and Nell thought, all the right answers, so far. The examination went on. “Did you give her a good workout?” “Yes, sir.” “Then don’t ride her again today. Take Baldy if you want a horse.” "Yes, sir.” “Break anything? Lose any thing?” “No, sir.” Rob laughed. He leaned over and patted Ken on the head. "Good work, young man—coming along!” Ken burst out laughing. He was so excited it was hard to sit still and answer properly. He wasn’t going to tell about his colt yet—not till tomorrow when the week was up. But it was hard to hold it in, hard not to jump up and run around the kitchen, shouting and crowing. Anyway—he could tell about Rock et— “I didn't lose anything, I found something!” He boasted, shoveling in big spoonfuls of oatmeal. "1 found Rocket She's back.” When Ken went to bed that night, he kissed his mother, and then threw his arms around her and held her hard for a moment. Smiling, she put her hand on his head. “Well, Kennie—’’ her violet eyes were soft and understanding. He went upstairs, smiling back at her over his shoulder, having a se cret with her. He knew that she knew. He lit the candle in his room and stood staring at the flickering light. This was like a last day. The last day before school is out, or before Christmas, or before his mother came back after a visit in the East. Tomorrow was the day when, really, his life would begin. He would get his colt. He couldn’t quite remember the color of her. Orange—pink—tanger ine color—tail and mane white, like the hair of an Albino boy at school. Albino—of course, her grandsire was the Albino—the famous Albino stud. He felt a little uneasiness at this; the Albino blood wasn't 3afe blood for a filly to have. But per haps she hadn’t much of it. Per haps the cream tail and mane came from Banner, her sire. Banner had a cream tail and mane too when he was a colt; lots of sorrel colts had. He hoped she would be docile and good—not like Rocket. Which would she take after? Rocket? Or Banner? He hadn't had time to get a good look into her eyes. Ken began to undress. Walking around his room, his eyes caught sight of the pictures on the wall— they didn’t interest him. The speed of her! She had run away from Banner. He kept think ing about that. It hardly seemed possible. His father always said Rocket was the fastest horse on the ranch, and now Rocket’s filly had run away from Banner. Riding down the mountain that day Ken had traced back all his recollections of her. The summer before, when he and Howard had seer, the spring colts, he hadn’t especially noticed her. He remem beied that he had seen her even be fore that, soon after she was born. He had been out with Gus, one day, in the meadow, during the spring holiday. They were clear ing some driftwood out of the irri gation ditch, and they had sew Rocket standing in a gully on the hillside, quiet for once, and eyeing them cautiously. ‘‘Ay bet she got a colt,'* said Gus; and they walked carefully up the draw. Rocket gave a wild snort, thrust her feet out, shook her head wickedly, then fled away. And as they reached the spot, they saw standing there the wavering, pink ish colt, barely able to keep its feet. It gave a little squeak and started after its mother on crooked, wob bling legs. ‘‘Yee whiz! Luk at de little flicka!” said Gus. “What does flicka mean, Gus?" "Swedish for little gurl, Ken—” He had seen the Ally again late in the fall. She was half pink, half yellow—with streaked untidy looking hair. She was awkward and ungain ly, with legs too long, haunches a little too high. And then he had gone away to school and hadn’t seen her again until now—she ran away from Ban ner—Her eyes—they had looked like balls of Are this morning. What color were they? Banner’s were brown with flecks of gold, or gold with flecks of brown—Her speed and her delicate curving lines made him think of a greyhound he had seen running once, but really she was more like just a little girl than any thing—the way her face looked, and the way her blonde hair blew—a lit tle girl— Ken blew out the light and got into bed, and before the smile had fad ed from his face, he was asleep— "I’ll take that sorrel Ally of Rock et’s; the one with the cream tail and mane.” Ken made his announcement at the breakfast table. After he spoke there was a mo ment’s astonished silence. Nell “Tee whit! Luk at de little fltcka!” said Gus. groped for recollection, and said. ‘‘A sorrel filly? I can’t seem to remem ber that one at all—what’s her name?" But Rob remembered. The smile faded from his face as he looked at Ken. "Rocket's filly, Ken?" "Yes, sir.” Ken’s face changed too. There was no mistaking his father’s displeasure. “I was hoping you’d make a wise choice. You know what I think of Rocket—that whole line of horses—" Ken looked down; the color ebbed from his cheeks. "She’s fast, Dad, and Rocket's fast—" "It’s the worst line of horses I’ve got. There's never one amongst them wth real sense. The mares are hellions and the stallions out laws; they’re untamable.” “I’ll tame her." Rob guffawed. "Not I. nor any one, has ever been able to really tame any one of them." Kennie’s chest heaved. "Better change your mind, Ken. You want a horse that'll be a real friend to you, don’t you?” "Yes—” Kennie's voice was un steady. “Well, you’ll never make a friend of that Oily. Last fall after all the colts had been weaned and separat ed from their dams, she and Rocket got back together—no fence’ll hold ’em—she's all out and scarred up already from tearing through barbed wire after that wild mother of hers.” Kennie looked stubbornly at his plate. “Change your mind?” asked How ard briskly. “No.” “1 don’t remember seeing her this year," said Nell. “No,” said Rob. “When I drove you up a couple of months ago to look them over and name them and write down their descriptions, there was a bunch missing, don't you re member?” "Oh, yes—then she’s never been named—” ‘Tve named her,” said Ken. “Her name is Flicka.” "Flicka,” said Nell cheerfully "That’s a pretty name.” But McLaughlin made no com ment, and there was a painful si lence. Ken felt he ought to look at his father, but he was afraid to. Every thing was changed again, they weren’t friends any more. He forced himself to look up, met his father’s angry eyes for a moment, then quickly looked down again. “Well,” McLaughlin barked. "It’s your funeral—or hers. Remember one thing. I’m not going to be out of pocket on account of this—every time you turn around you cost me money—” Ken looked up, wonderingly, and shook his head. 'Time’s money, remember," said his father. ”1 had planned to give you a reasonable amount of help in breaking and taming your colt. Just enough. But there’s no such thing as enough with those horses.” Gus appeared at the door and said, "What’s today. Boss?” McLaughlin shouted, “We’re going out on the range to bring in the yearlings. Saddle Taggert, Lady and Shorty.” Gus disappeared, and McLaugh lin pushed his chair back. "First thing to do is get her in. Do you know where the yearlings are?” "They were on the far side of the Saddle Back late yesterday after noon—the west end, down by Dale’s ranch.” “Well, you’re the Bops on this round-up^-you can ride Shorty.” McLaughlin and Gus and Ken went out to bring the yearlings in. Howard stood at the County gate to open and close it. They found the yearlings easily. When they saw that they were be ing pursued, they took to their heels. Ken was entranced to watch Flicka —the speed of her, the power, the wildness—she led the band. He sat motionless, just watching and holding Shorty in when his fa ther thundered past on Taggert and shouted, "Well, what’s the matter? Why didn’t you turn ’em?” Ken woke up and galloped after them. Shorty brought in the whole band. The corral gates were closed, and an hour was spent shunting the po nies in and out and through the chutes until Flicka was left alone in the amall round branding corral. Gus mounted Shorty and drove the others away, through the gate, and up the Saddle Back. But Flicka did not intend to be left. She hurled herself against the poles which walled the corraL She tried to jump them. They were seven feet high. She caught her front feet over the top rung, clung, scrambled, while Kennie held his breath for fear the slender legs would be caught between the bars and snapped. Her hold broke, she fell over backwards, rolled, screamed, tore around the corraL One of the bars broke. She hurled herself again. Another went She saw the opening, and as neatly as a dog crawls through a fence, insert ed her head and forefeet, scram bled through and fled away, bleed ing in a dozen places. As Gus was coming back, Just about to close the gate to the Coun ty Road, the sorrel whipped through it, sailed across the road and ditch with her inimitable floating leap, and went up the side of the Saddle Back like a jack rabbit. From way up the mountain, Gus heard excited whinnies, as she Joined the band he had just driven up, and the last he saw of them they were strung out along the crest running like deer. “Yee whiz!" said Gus, and stood motionless and staring until the po nies had disappeared over the ridge. Then he closed the gate, remount ed Shorty, and rode back to the corrals. Walking down from the corrals, Rob McLaughlin gave Kennie one more chance to change his mind. “Better pick a horse that you have some hope of riding one day. I’d have got rid of this whole line of stock if they weren’t so damned fast that I’ve had the fool idea, that someday there might turn out one gentle one in the lot, and I'd have a race horse. But there’s never been one so far, and it's not going to be Flicka.” “It’s not going to be Flicka,” chanted Howard. “Maybe she might be gentled," said Ken; and although his lips trembled, there was fanatical de termination in his eye. “Ken,” said McLaughlin, “it’s up to you. If you say you want her. we’ll get her. But she wouldn’t be the first of that line to die rather than give in. They’re beautiful and they’re fast, but let me tell you this, young man, they’re loco!" Ken flinched under his father’s direct glance. “If I go after her again. I'll not give up whatever comes, understand what I mean by that?” - "Yes.” “What do you say?” “I want her." “That’s settled then,” and sudden ly Rob seemed calm and indifferent “We’ll bring her in again tomor row or next day—I’ve got other work for this afternoon.” (TO BE CONTINUED) FIRST-AID to the AILING HOUSE by Roger B. Whitman Roger B. Whitman—WNU Feature*. Fob may not be able to replace worn or broken household equipment. This Is war. Government priorities come first. So take care of what you have ... as well as you possibly can. This cslu-nn by the home owner’s friend tells you bow. CLEANING RUGS Soiled carpets, ru?s and uphol stery can be cleaned by sham pooing with soap jelly. Ordinary soiling will come out easily, but obstinate and unusual stains should have professional care. Also, sham pooing can be used only on fast colors. Put four cups of pure, mild soap chips or flakes in a bowl or wide-mouthed jar, and add one cup of water. Soap jelly will form with in an hour. Put a portion in a mix ing bowl and beat with an egg beat er until you raise very stiff suds. Using a soft brush, work the jelly on the fabric in a space about 12 inches or so across. After time for loosening the dirt, wipe with a clean, damp cloth. Then, using a stiffer brush, brush the nap in the right direction. Continue in this way on the next space to be cleaned. The suds are so dry that upholstery fab ric will not be soaked as would be the case with soapsuds as usually used. After cleaning, the fabric should be dried quickly. A rug should be supported on boxes and old chairs, so that air can get at the back, as well as the front. Dry Wells Question: la putting in dry wells for gutters and downspouts, how far should they be from the house? How big should they be? How much be low the cellar floor level? Answer: They should be at least 15 feet away from the house, so that water soaking into the ground from them will not work back into the cellar. If the ground is loose and sandy, the dry w^U.should meas ure inside three feet in diameter and four or more deep; exact size will depend on the roof areas that are drained. In firmly packed soil, the holes must be bigger. If the water cannot return from the dry well to the cellar, depth relating to the cel lar floor would make no difference. Storing Books Question: I wish to pack and store part of my library. Should the books be wrapped individually? How can I protect them from insects? Answer: Store them in wood boxes lined with waterproof paper. Indi vidual wrapping is not necessary. Include in each box a double hand ful of moth crystals (paradi). Keep the boxes in a dry place and away from dampness. Avoid storage in a basement, however dry it may appear. Mohair Furniture Question: Can furniture uphol stered with mohair be safely stored? Answer: Yes, furniture can be sat isfactorily stored in a reliable stor age warehouse. Make inquiries of the names of the best established firms in the business in your city. Furniture covered with mohair or other wool type fabrics should be mothproofed. Some warehousemen have such a service, or they can ad vise you of firms who do this type of work. Unheated House Question: We own an unheated house near the seashore which is difficult to rent. We would like to put in some kind of an inexpensive heating plant. What do you suggest? Answer: A coal-flred, hot air heat ing system will be the least expen : sive to install. If the house is a small one, bungalow-type, a pipe less hot air furnace may be satis factory. Your local heating con tractor can give you information and costs of installation. Lioose Chair Legs Question: The glue that holds to gether the sides of the legs of a ma hogany chair has loosened. How can this chair be tightened? Answer: Take out the loose chair legs and runfcs, clean off all glue, then spread a generous amount of casein glue on the parts to be glued. Bind all parts until the glue has dried. Another method is to use metal slips for tightening loose chair legs. At hardware and dime stores. Steel Windows Question: Where can we get storm windows and screens for steel case ments? Answer: Your best chance is to get them from the manufacturers of the windows. You will probably find ; the name and address somewhfere j on them, or can get this from the | builder of the house. Salt-Spotted Silver Question: How can I clean black salt spots from my silver salt shakers? Answer: This is almost impossi ble to do at honM. Take them to a silversmith. Mirage on Farm Front To Meet Food Goal Conservation Farming Proving to Be Godsend Total war requires total produc tion. This is as true of essential crops as it is of armaments, and the miraculous achievements of fac tories are being matched by miracu lous production on the farms of America to meet greater food goals. The big objective of World War I was, as today, to win the war, and all efforts were toward increased food production on American farms. However, the methods being used to day differ from the methods used then, because farmers have learned a bitter lesson. They helped win the last war, but many lost their farms and their livelihood in the aftermath. From earliest days there has been a mistaken idea that in creased production meant a nat ural increase in soil ruined. There were a few progressive farmers who raised their voices early for action against soil ero sion but their attempts were futile. As long as there appeared to be that inexhaustible supply of new land Just beyond the western horizon, men preferred to leave the ruined land behind them, and to exploit new fron- , tiers. World War I created a sudden and abnormal demand for more food, with the emphasis on wheat. Agri culture’s answer was increased food production through increased acre age. Wheat alone jumped from 47 to 74 million acres during and im mediately following the war era. The increased acreage resulted from a big “plow-up” of land which in Keep Machinery Going Shirley Perry hammers out the prongs of a manure spreader while Gail Daily tightens the bolt on a wheel. These girls are taking a farm course so they can do their bit on the food line while many a farm hand is doing his bit at the front. turn brought about the big “blow-up” from the dust bowl about 10 years ago. When the black fog of dust winged its way across the sky and darkened eastern cities as far as the Atlantic seaboard, America realized that something drastically wrong had happened to its agriculture. Then the time was ripe, although late in the battle against soil erosion, for conservation farming to get its start. Adapting and improving the tech niques of the early soil erosion pio neers, the work of the Soil Conser vation service and the AAA has proved a Godsend to the United Na tions in the present crisis. Because land is the farmer’s chief business asset and because land is indispensa ble to the national welfare, the na tional farm program includes con servation as one of its objectives. Curculio Threatens 1943 Peach Crop Peaches are in grave danger of being destroyed by the curculio, if prompt and decisive control meas ures are not taken, says Dr. Clyde F. Smith, associate entomologist of the state experiment station at North Carolina State college. He reports that about ten times as many beetles are being found this year as compared with 1942 and that growers will have more wormy peaches at harvest time un less they use every possible means of controlling the curculio. Dr. Smith makes four suggestions for controlling the beetles and he says that all four methods should be used. First, collect and destroy as many adult curculios as possible by jarring the trees. Second, fol low a proper spray program. Third, pick up and destroy all drops. Fourth, cultivate under the spread of the trees, as soon as wormy peaches cease to drop. Farm Notes When young pigs are old enough they should be pastured on clean ground—pastures which have been freed of worms and disease organ isms by plowing. » • • Most farms have more than one type of soil which, with a rearrange ment of field boundaries, could grow hay or pasture crops more efficient ly than they do at present 7504 DIGHT from your scrap-bag ^ steps this footwear! Both san dals and scuffs are entirely of rags, soles and all, and make gay, inexpensive play shoes or bedroom slippers. Use up scraps in varied colors. HOUSEHOLD IrliriTsffi Carpet sweepers need constant care and watching if they are to work best. Empty them frequent ly, keep the brushes very clean and cut off any hairs or threads that cling to them. Oil them as the maker directs. When not in use, hang up the sweeper to save wear on the brushes. * • * Corn meal used in puddings, or mush, should be thoroughly mixed in a little cold water before hot water is added. It then will not be lumpy. • • • A little poultry seasoning helps the flavor of pork, veal or lamb gravy—try it the next time. * * • Always pull wrenches toward you. Always cut away with a knife from you. To make celery curls cut small stocks or short pieces of celery lengthwise into thin shreds, cut ting to within a half-inch of the leaves on end of. piece. Place in ice water to curl. * * # A layer of tomato ketchup poured over the top of beans while baking will cook through the beans and add much to their flavor. • • • Don’t have anything else in the oven when you plan to bake a cake, and place cake as near the center of oven as possible. • • • Keep everything in its proper place to reduce night accidents. • • • If some article of wearing ap- I parel or linen has too much bluing in it, soak for several hours in one quart of warm water with two tablespoons of vinegar in it. Wash out in the usual way. Pattern 7504 contains instructions for making slippers in small, medium and large sizes; illustration of stitches; list of materials needed. Due to an unusually large demand and current war conditions, slightly more time is required in filling orders for a few of the most popular pattern numbers. Send your order to; Sewing Circle Needlecraft Dept. 82 Eighth Ave. New York Enclose 13 cents (plfrf one cent to cover cost of mailing) for Pattern No.. Name.. Address .... Uncle ft kilt Say5: 'T'HE average man doesn’t cast his bread upon the waters until it has become quite stale. If a man is enjoying life, sleep seems an infringement. Decent people hate a pessimist as much as he hates himself. At twenty one feels qualified to give advice to everybody. At forty one feels sort of flattered if asked for advice. At sixty one feels un qualified to give any of it. Silence isn’t necessarily golden —sometimes it’s just “yellow.” The man who snores in a sleep ing car may awake and find him self famous. HOUSEWIVES: ★ ★ ★ Your Waste Kitchen Fats Are Needed for Explosives TURN 'EM IN! ★ ★ ★ * SNAPPY FACTS ABOUT RUBBER -O "Squeal Gees" (squeegees), rubber devices used to scour the decks of vessels, are re ferred to in a book written in 1853 on rubber and its uses. legislation has been proposed In Nebraska which would offer a reward of $10,000 for the first company or Individual to build a plant In Nebraska and produce 20,000 tons or more of synthetic rubber in ony twelve-month period. Why farmers need passen ger car tires: Nine out of every 100 farm passenger automobiles are used for "hauling to market," ac cording to The National Grange. Kellogg's Corn Flakes, alone or with fruit, supplement the nutritive elements of milk make a natural combination that helps you stretch your precious milk supply. You need less than a glass* ful per serving. Vitamins, minerals, proteins, food energy—in one dish! _ FLAKES £ -7<4* OMfmmt — Wdkf? — y ••«( •» UUIH MNU1 HUH IM«c HMilii M||