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||
