Doris (Mrs. Vincent "Wee") Maggio has asked for a plug for the luncheon, which is being served tomorrow, March 1, by Catholic Women's Auxiliary at St. Joseph's Parish Hall, corner of Main and Hinds Streets, from 11 a.m. until 2 p.m.
The public is cordially invited, says Mrs. Maggio, and the tickets are $1.50 each. Asked if one ticket was good for all its purchaser could eat, Doris replied no, it would buy only one plate full, but "seconds" could be had at the same rale.
As for the menu, Dorothy (Mrs. Luke) Terhnar is making the kidney bean salad, Odile (Mrs. Wilton) Richard is preparing the rice dressing, and Joe Strazi will cook the roast beef. All of which sounds like about a 1,500-calorie platter plus, and no end of gustatory pleasure for those who hold and present tickets at St. Joseph's Parish Hall on the morrow.
Candy will be available also at a dollar a pound.
We were silting with Rozelle Meadors and the Squire in the latter's den. watching television on the morning of last week when Col. John Glenn was awaiting his date with destiny. The countdown was underway, and the rocket would be fired in a half-hour or so, if all went well.
Pause for valve trouble, and the countdown takes time out. mechanical difficulties of course were beyond the control of the announcer, so to kill a little time , he switched the program to Concord, Ohio, for small talk with folks who had known John Glenn, boy and man, for blows and stretches.
"So you are a close friend of Col. Glenn, arc you not," asked the broadcaster of the man opposite him, "since you grew up with him, went to school and college with him, and entered the Force together at the same time?"
"Yes sir," replied the party so addressed, "we came along together, just as you say, and close friends, but we are more than that, sir, for you see we are fellow Presbyterians!"
Old Stuff looked around at his host and hostess, who were looking directly at us while smiling ever so slightly and nodding their heads, as though saying the cake was iced thereby, and that Col. Glenn was not only good as in orbit already, but safely back home as well.
We were thinking along those lines anyhow, but kept on praying that the courageous colonel indeed "had it made."
DID Tommy (Mrs. W. D.) McGraw tell us she wanted oak seeding? If so, Tommy, we have them for you, also plum switches and several peach trees.
Does Mrs. H. H. ("AP") Thomas intend calling for the cover plants? They still await her pleasure, on top of the terrace wall.
Thanks to Mrs. F. C. Bryant reporting wild geese last Monday night, honking and heading northward. As with the croaking frogs, we hope the wild geese know something regarding winter's exit, and the early approach of spring.
To Mrs. L. M. (Pete) Toler, whose baptismal name is Bertha (for the big gun which dropped shells on Paris from a distance of 75 miles in World War I), many thanks for the gilded bell which will soon be gracing the throat of the little heifer calf that's your namesake, and here's hoping she doesn't clear too many fences at the first tinkle of same.
To Ruthie Paxton and the General, greetings and salutations on your thirty-ninth wedding anniversary. Stick around home tonight and we'll give you a telephone serenade. We might even jump the gun by 11 years, and play "Put on Your Old Gray Bonnet, with the blue ribbon on it, While I hitch Old Dobbin' to the shay."
Get an eyeful of the burning bushes all over Greenville, and be grateful to Pharoah’s Daughter for fishing little Moses out’n the bull rushes that time. And Squire Meadows wants to know just what it was that Moses did in age to keep himself out'n the Promised Land?
