We sat at a table In Jimmy Lillo's place, and watched Charlie Cason devouring oysters on the half shell. It was our first visit to a night club since Louis and Old Stuff went rubber-necking amongst the hot-spots in Havana, back in January of '38.
The Seeburg ground out a mixture of hill-billy music, and broken-hearted crooners. Mary Elizabeth Telfair stopped at our table and presented her escort, Mr. Anderson. Charlie Cason was visibly impressed. Mr. Lillo came over to our table and sat down.
"I saw you square-dancing at the Beauty Contest that night at the Fair Grounds," he said to "you were good too. It was a nice show.”
So, at long last, there comes kind word from someone, about Greenville's contribution, on the night we "also ran." Thank you, Jimmy Lillo.
A couple left a booth, and began to dance, and presently another, and still another.
"The young folks like to come here,” said Mr. Lillo, "and if you stay a while, you will see a crowded floor."
"Wasn't the Frank Wingfield American Legion Post Hut located close to your place at one time?" we asked.
"This is it," he answered.
"And the lake, with all the lily pads, isn't it close by?" we queried.
"It's right out the back door," said Jimmy Lillo.
Then we realized that we had been in the building once before, in the winter of '32-'33, for Bob Love’s homecoming. It was the Leland Legion Home, in those days, and Legionnaire Albert Copeland was Master of Ceremonies for Bob's party.
Pretty much all Leland turned out for the affair, and we particularly remember a musical number, in which Ann McGee accompanied a fellow teacher who must have been going with Russell Stovall at the time. For Albert made some sort of happy and teasing remark about that young lady and Russell, and he may also have mentioned Mr. Crawford's name in connection with Ann McGee.
Gordon Scott sang several fine numbers, and then Bob Love took to the piano and got a big hand. He signaled to Willie Grimes, Willis Burford, and Old Stuff, and they joined In the music-making. "Snake" danced past and me, Winked at us. He also made reference to the old days when we went barn-storming together, and our uneasiness about the reimbursement. We don't know Snake escaped playing with us that evening, unless his trombone had gotten misplaced in the ten-year Interim.
The Dodge City, Kansas Lions will be able to shower the cotton bolls upon their minstrel audience a week from Tuesday, thanks to Mrs. E. A. Clifford of Pettit, and Mrs. Early Ewing of Scott. Both those ladles rallied nobly, and Mrs. Clifford's bolls were arranged In layers, in a deep box, and all set for cotton corsages or what have you. Ewing Included several branches, and one partial stalk, In her donation, and the Kansas school kids can have a lesson in agronomy in the Ewing package, as well as a look-see at Master Plant Breeder' Early Ewlng's Deltapine 14 which will one day clothe that "illclothed third,” and soon.
Word from Rosemary Mock, in Dodge City, says that the grateful Lions of that place are planning wheat shipments to Mrs. Gifford and Mrs. Ewing, when the harvest is on, by way of reciprocity. Rosemary Is forwarding their Minstrel script to the local club, in the event they might care to use it in next winter's production. (Attention Mrs. Mary Shields, Mrs. Fay Parker, and Frank England Jr.)
Lots of nice publicity, In the weather department. We crashed Louise’s Delta Scene one day, (with the help of Lucile Caldwell), and Paul Flowers' Greenhouse on Saturday, thanks to Shirt-tail Smith. Our fine friend Judge Harty, thinks we are working too cheap, but he is discounting the publicity. He helped us get the job too.
Last Thursday night our telephone rang. Mother answered it.
"Is there going to be a storm"? asked an uneasy voice.
"I don't know," answered Mother, "and the weather man isn't here."
"Did he say anything about a storm before he left," asked the voice.
Mother said that we hadn't.
"Well," said the voice, "I thought I'd go to the dance tonight, but there might be a storm so maybe I'd better stay home with my children."
Before she hung up, she told Mother who she was, but Mother didn't catch the name. It's a story anyway, and we thank the unknown party for her confidence in the weather man.
—BC
