Pr
PITY
PAGE 81X
EXCERPTS FROM
THE RISTO%Y
OF LUZERNE COUNTY
By H. C. BRADSBY
(Readers will enjoy Mr. Bradsby's quaint,
paranthetical remarks more if they keep in
mind that he was writing this history of |
Luzerne County forty-five years ago, and i
refers to conditions as he knew them, not
as they are in 1938.) —EDITOR
(Continued From Last Week)
Years come and years go, and the wilderness
that was early Luzerne County begins to thin
out, and the land begins to be dotted with log
cabins. That is, every few miles on the way can be |
seen in the distance the blue curling smoke lazily
ascending from these outside, ‘low, mud-and-stick
chimneys) This, now, is the glorious log-cabin day
and age. Let us examine one, and, if we can. secure
the shadow ere the substance has gone forever.
As you approach you are impressed with the
squat and heavy, solid appearance of the building.
The roof is of split clapboards, weighted with heavy
poles. “There is not so much iron as a nail in the
whole building. The batten door-is made of the
same kind of boards, and swings on wooden hinges.
It has a wooden latch, to which is attached a leath-
er string that passes up and through a small hole to
the outside. To pull this string is to raise the latch,
and permit the door to open. To lock the door it
is only necessary to pull the string inside, and then
no one on the outside can open it. Hence, there
“is much friendly significance when one says to
another “My latch string always hangs out for
you.
SETTLER PROUD OF His LARDER
You will notice as you approach that to your
right, and near the end of the cabin, somewhat to
the front of the house, is a very small cabin, a kind
of a baby to the main building. This is the meat |
house. The lord of the manor is evidently a little
proud of the larder, and hence it sets a little to
the front of the big cabin. It bespeaks for him a
good provider, “and juicy hams and red gravy” ga-
lore. Farther off there you see the stables covered :
with straw, and the stacks of grain and hay, and
about the premises are cows and calves, and horses,
with long hair and bushy manes and tails, and
razor-back hogs, the largest part apparently the
head, on account of the long snout. On every hand
there are evidences of plenty and content.
Pull the latch and walk in, where a hearty and
cheerful welcome will greet you, even the long-
haired curs will “bay you a deep-mouthed welcome”
that will be stopped only by the authoritative voice
of the master. The wide, blazing fire, extending
nearly across the whole end of the house, adds to
the brightness, and the iron lard lamp, with a rag
for a wick, the recent great improvement over the
scraped turnip that did duty as a lamp, you hardly
notice as it burns away stuck in a crack in one of
the logs.
The good wife and the strong and red-cheeked
“girls are preparing the evening meal. The spare
ribs hanging in front of the fire are turned fre:
quently, and their odors at once whet your already
keen appetite. The bread is in the oven, and on
this is a lid with the edges curled up to hold the
heaps of coals that are on the top, while there are
still more under the oven. An iron pot is hanging |
by the crane, and is boiling furiously. While these
preparations are going on, take an inventory of the
room.
“Granny” Sits IN THE CORNER
You are in one of the two split-bottomed chairs.
The old chest can be seats for three or four of the
family; then there are two or three three-legged
stools. Then there is a bench made of a split log,
with legs to it, that is seats all along one side of
the table, but is moved around at pleasure. Over
there is “granny”, with her “specs”, the brass rims
nearly worn out, and all looking as old as she does,
except the new yarn string that holds them in place. |
At the other end of the 14x20 room are two beds,
end to end, with barely room for a person to squeeze |
between them. On these are such high feather |
mattresses, and over these gay-figured red and
white woolen coverlets. Al gay calico “valance”
hangs around the legs of each big bedstead, and
under each big bed you know there is a trundle
bed . . . the ancestor of the folding bed. The
trundle bed was at one time a universal feature of
the old log cabin, from which came that barbarous
expression from some sour old bachelor about “trun-
dle-bed trash”. TT
The floor is -of puncheon—split logs—dressed
down with an axe tolerably well, but still full of
big cracks; the window, a hole in the wall, covered
with a piece of greased paper through which the
light shines dimly. On the walls hang strings of
Sage, onion tops, and a beautiful wreath of red
peppers. Some loose boards are laid on the cross
beams, and the stairway is cleats fastened to the
wall. This is the girls’ boudoir, and the walls |
aroursd it are hung with dresses and female clothing.
But supper is now ready and steaming hot, and
you seat yourself around the puncheon table with
the happy family and fall to with a will.
(Continued Next Week)
THE DALLAS POST FRIDAY, JULY 1, 1938
Ryn
MICKEY RODNEY
HAS HAD 14 YEARS OF STAGE 3
AND SCREEN EXPERIENCE andl i
Nae TO BE A DIRECTOR (Ste
N WHEN HE IS 21 !
MICKEY R@NEY HAS
PLAYED DRUMS IN 32 BANDS
IT'S A HOBBY To PLAY THE DRUMS
IN EVERY BAND HE HEAPS. id
CAR
KNOWN AS LOUIS BYRD
AND BOBBY VERRIER .
STAGE STAR FOR 40 YEARS, WAS Jk
Freddie
/BARTHOLOMEW
MICKEY RGDNEY |
| ARE PALS IN M-G-M’
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