Letters from Hillside Farm (12 page)

Dear George,

Link Lake sounds like such an interesting town. From your description, it has just about everything your family needs. And watching a free outdoor movie in summer—what a fun thing that must be!

That brings me once more to your problems with Amos. I know you probably won't agree with me, but I'm beginning to feel sorry for him. He wants to start a fight with you because you struck out his pa at the school softball game. He is sticking up for his pa, yet his pa doesn't treat Amos very well, from what you've said in your letters. I've decided that Amos is a very angry young man, and you are an easy target for him.

You did the right thing by not fighting with him, even when he started it. It was smart of you to move aside so he fell in the water. I kind of chuckled when you described it. I'll bet he made a big splash. But I suppose now he will be angrier than ever. I'm sure you'll let me know if Amos causes you any more problems.

The Struckmeyer Stupendous Family Circus: what a great name. I can't wait to hear more about it.

Love,

Grandma S.

June 19, 1938

Sunday

Dear Grandma,

I'm sorry it's been so long since my last letter, but I have been very busy working on a project. Today was Father's Day, and I really surprised Pa. I gave him a present he didn't expect.

Pa's old billfold isn't really a billfold at all, but a ratty little leather bag. It's almost worn through, and one day I heard Ma say to Pa, “Adolph, you're gonna lose the little money you've got if you keep it in that old money bag.” Pa said it was all he had. I know Pa doesn't have any money to buy a new billfold. He'd probably buy a new halter for one of the horses before he'd buy a new billfold.

I wanted to make him a billfold with the leather tools that you gave me. Pa said he liked the looks of my billfold when he first saw it. And I told you about how even Amos Woodward likes my leatherwork—at school I caught him looking at my belt and all its little designs. When I brought in my billfold to show it to Miss Harvey and the other kids, he held it longer than anybody else when she passed it around. But since I have made a billfold and leather belt for myself, I didn't have any leather left to make something for Pa.

Last Saturday night I asked Pa if I could go off by myself while he went down to Johnson's Hardware store to talk with the other farmers. He assumed I was going to the drugstore for an ice cream cone like I usually do, and I didn't let him think anything different. But instead of going to the drugstore, I stopped at Wheeler's Harness Shop, a couple of doors farther down Main Street. I could smell new leather and harness oil as I walked in the door, which has a little bell attached to it. A man was working at a huge black sewing machine on a wooden counter.

“What can I do for you, young feller?” he asked me in a friendly voice.

“Are you Mr. Wheeler?” I asked.

“I am. And you are?” he said. I told him my name.

“You're Adolph's son, aren't you? I fixed one of your Pa's bridles a few weeks ago,” Mr. Wheeler said. He stood up from his sewing machine, and I saw that he was wearing a long leather apron that came clear up under his whiskered chin and went well below his knees. He grabbed a badly worn wooden crutch that I hadn't seen standing in the corner and tucked it under his right arm.

“Got a bad leg,” Mr. Wheeler said, when he noticed me watching. “Horses ran away from me when I was a kid, and the leg never healed right.”

“I've got a bad leg, too,” I blurted out. “Broke it when I fell out of a tree when we lived in Ohio.”

“Don't look too bad,” Mr. Wheeler said. He pushed his gold-rimmed glasses back on his nose. I told him my leg has been feeling a little better, but I still can't run. He said he can't run, either, and he held up his crutch and waved it around a little. Then he chuckled and asked how he could help me. I explained that I know something about making things from leather. I showed him my belt and my billfold and said I wanted to make a billfold for Pa for Father's Day, but I didn't have any leather.

“No leather, huh?” Mr. Wheeler said. He was studying my billfold pretty closely, running his thick, callused fingers over the designs and opening and closing it. He must have seen that I didn't have any money inside it. I asked Mr. Wheeler if he had leather for sale, and he said he did.

“Problem is,” he said, “you've got no money. Nobody's got any money these days. Times better get better soon, or we'll all go broke.” He was quiet for a minute, and then he asked me, “You really made this billfold?” I told him that I did and that I'd used tools my grandmother had given me. He asked me if you had shown me how to do leatherwork. Grandma, he was really impressed and said that you taught me well.

Mr. Wheeler turned and hobbled to the back of the harness shop, the crutch making a “clunk, clunk” sound as he walked. He returned carrying a hunk of new leather.

“I figure this piece of leather is big enough for two billfolds,” he said. “You make one for your Pa and one for me to sell here in the shop, and the leather is yours.”

I asked him if he was sure about that. He said he surely was. His blue eyes twinkled as he spoke, and a broad smile spread across his wrinkled face. I felt really good when he said, “I know good work when I see it. I expect to have my billfold finished in a couple weeks.”

“You shall have it,” I said.

I hurried to the car and tucked the brown package away on the back seat so Pa wouldn't see it. All week I spent every free minute I had working on the billfold. I even stamped Pa's initials, AS, on one side. I made a border all around the billfold that looks like little acorns all in a row. Then I made a tree design for the front. It really turned out great.

After we got back from church today, I handed Pa the package and said, “Happy Father's Day.” He carefully untied the string and unwrapped the paper. Grandma, you should have seen the look on his face! He usually has something to say, but this time he just sat there, fingering the new leather billfold and even holding it up to his nose. Finally he said, “Thank you. I don't think I've gotten a nicer present.”

It was a good day, Grandma. I sure am glad I got to meet Mr. Wheeler. Now I've got to get busy and finish the billfold that I owe him.

My circus is next Sunday afternoon. I hope somebody comes! I have put up my posters in Link Lake and nailed a few to trees along our road.

I hope you are enjoying summer.

Your grandson,

George

Dear George,

I wish I could have been there when you gave your pa a new billfold for Father's Day. What a fine idea that was, and what a nice man the harness maker in Link Lake must be to help you get the leather you needed. Your pa must be very proud of you. You and your pa seem to get along a lot better than Amos and his pa. I hope that with all you have going on in your life, you can keep finding time to work on your leather projects. It sounds like you've got to finish another billfold to complete the deal you made with the harness maker, and I'll bet you can work out other arrangements with him to sell your leather projects. I'm sure you've already thought of that.

How is the circus coming along?

Love,

Grandma S.

June 27, 1938

Monday

Dear Grandma,

We put on our circus yesterday, and I've got to tell you all about it. It was really fun, until near the end.

Here's how we set things up. The barn has a big open area with a huge door at one end where we haul in hay. I arranged some bales of straw there so people could sit while they watched the acts we had put together. On either side of this open area are wooden beams about fifteen feet from the floor. A rope hangs from the ceiling of the barn. Ordinarily we use it for pulling hay up into the barn.

Pa helped me clean up the upper part of the barn where we store hay. So far we have hauled only a few loads of hay into the barn, so it is mostly empty. But with that new hay up there, the inside of the barn sure smelled fresh and clean. Ma helped me make a big sign that we hung over the barn door that read: Struckmeyer Stupendous Family Circus. It was impressive.

I was surprised at how many people came to the circus. I counted twenty-five! They were mostly kids, but a few of the parents came along as well. Most were kids I know from school, but a few came all the way from Link Lake.

I charged one penny for admission. Just inside the barn door I had lined up a row of overturned potato crates with animals inside. Nearby I hung up a sign that read, “Menagerie.” A potato crate has plenty of space between the slats, so it was easy to see what was in each crate. Under the first one I had put one of Ma's laying hens. On a little sign I had written: “Exotic Fowl from the Deeper Regions of Africa.” I heard one kid say, “Looks like an ordinary chicken to me,” but I didn't say anything. Under the second crate, I put one of our barn cats. That sign read, “Ferocious Feline from the Mountain Regions of the Andes.” I picked one of our meanest barn cats, so if a kid got too close to the crate, it would snarl and show its claws. That old cat proved to be a wonderful actor.

Next up was a garter snake I found near the barn, a little one about six inches long. I put it in a shoe box with some grass and covered it with a little piece of window screen so the snake couldn't escape. The sign read, “Anaconda Snake from the Wilds of the Amazon. Known to Crush its Victims to Death.” After reading the sign, most of the kids wouldn't even look in the box.

Under the next two overturned potato crates were two English sparrows that Pa helped me catch. The sign read, “Rare Avian Specimens from Deep within the Jungles of Central America.”

Depot was the last exhibit in the menagerie. I made a little leather collar for him and tied him to a board in the barn with a sign that read, “The Most Dangerous of All the Lion Species Known to Man.” I had to remind Annie that she shouldn't pet Depot, or the kids wouldn't believe the sign.

After everyone had a chance to see my wild animal collection, I crawled up on a pile of hay and in a loud voice said, “Ladies and gentlemen, children of all ages, welcome to the first performance of the Struckmeyer Stupendous Family Circus.” Everyone took seats on the straw bales. The audience clapped as Annie rode into the barn on Ginger's back. Ma had dressed her in a frilly little red dress, and I had taught her how to hold on to the reins with one hand and wave with the other. Annie was smiling her biggest smile.

When Ginger heard all the clapping and the cheering, he must have remembered his circus days, because he held his head high and pranced all around the barn. Next came Rachel, with Gregory draped over her shoulders. I heard one kid whisper, “Is that animal real?” Just then Gregory lifted his head, and the youngster had his answer.

Annie slid off Ginger's back and handed the reins to me, and I put Ginger through his paces. He stood on his hind legs, knelt down, lay down, and played dead. I have taught him how to count by stamping one foot when I call out a number. (The key to the trick is for me to gently tap him on the leg the same number of times as the number I call out.) That trick was a real hit with the crowd. Ginger is clearly a star performer.

Next it was Gregory's turn. Rachel had placed a little leather collar around his neck, with a short leash attached. She put Gregory on the floor, and he sniffed and looked around at the kids as they clapped and cheered. Next she put a little covered can in front of the raccoon. He looked at it and then used his front paws to lift the cover off the can. Everyone cheered again. Rachel put a little bowl of water on the floor in front of Gregory. I'm sure the kids thought she was giving him a drink. Instead he lifted the bowl of water with both paws and turned it over, dumping the water on the floor. The kids just howled with laughter.

I had saved my aerial act for last. For the past several weeks, I have been practicing climbing up a ladder to one of the big beams, grabbing the rope that we use to pull hay into the barn, and swinging across an open area to another beam. I've gotten pretty good at it.

I climbed up the ladder, forgetting entirely about my bum leg. I grabbed the rope with one hand and waved to the audience fifteen feet below me, just like the aerialists did in the Ringling Brothers Circus. Then I grabbed the rope with both hands, pushed off, and sailed across the open area, landing on the opposite beam with no difficulty at all.

The audience loved it. They all clapped and cheered as I readied myself to swing back to the beam where I'd started. Both Pa and Ma were watching, and I must say, they looked a little concerned. I saw Ma hold her hand to her mouth when I grabbed the rope.

I hadn't noticed that Amos Woodward had arrived late, but all of a sudden there he was, glaring up at me. I took a sturdy grip on the rope and pushed off. But as I swung across the open area, Amos grabbed the end of the rope and stopped me from completing my swing to the opposite beam. I was stuck hanging above the audience. I didn't know what to do. The kids all scattered, not wanting me to fall on them. Amos held on to the rope, smirking at the scared look on my face. I saw Pa get up from his seat when he saw what Amos was doing. Amos let go of the rope, but there I hung, fifteen feet above the floor. No one said a word. After a few seconds my arms grew tired, and I let go of the rope. I landed with a big swoosh in a pile of hay, which cushioned my fall. I saw Amos stomping out of the barn just as I stood up, brushed the hay off my clothes, and waved. Everyone clapped and cheered.

I thanked everyone for coming and invited them to try some of Annie's lemonade, which she was selling for a penny a cup. (Ma helped her make it.)

We put on quite a show, Grandma. I hope the stunt Amos pulled didn't spoil it.

Your grandson,

George