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WCU - Great Smoky Mountains - A Park for America

Hardwood Bark, 1922

items 2 of 22 items
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Item 1 - Hardwood Bark, 1922
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Hardwood Bark, 1922

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Hardwood Bark, 1922

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Hardwood Bark, 1922

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Hardwood Bark, 1922

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Hardwood Bark, 1922

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Item 6 - Hardwood Bark, 1922
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Hardwood Bark, 1922

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Hardwood Bark, 1922

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Hardwood Bark, 1922

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Hardwood Bark, 1922

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Hardwood Bark, 1922

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Hardwood Bark, 1922

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Hardwood Bark, 1922

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Hardwood Bark, 1922

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Hardwood Bark, 1922

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Item 15 - Hardwood Bark, 1922
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Hardwood Bark, 1922

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Item 16 - Hardwood Bark, 1922
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Hardwood Bark, 1922

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Item 17 - Hardwood Bark, 1922
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Hardwood Bark, 1922

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Item 18 - Hardwood Bark, 1922
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Hardwood Bark, 1922

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Item 19 - Hardwood Bark, 1922
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Hardwood Bark, 1922

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Item 20 - Hardwood Bark, 1922
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Hardwood Bark, 1922

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Item 21 - Hardwood Bark, 1922
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Hardwood Bark, 1922

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Item 22 - Hardwood Bark, 1922
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Hardwood Bark, 1922

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Item’s are ‘child’ level descriptions to ‘parent’ objects, (e.g. one page of a whole book).

  • 10 The Hardwood "Bark PHILADELPHIA The following poems were sent in for publication by Miss M. E. Niven, of our Philadelphia Sales Office: The Little Black Hen. Said the little red rooster, "Gosh all hemlock! Things are tough, Seems that worms are getting scarcer, and I cannot find enough. What's become of all those fat ones is a mystery to me; There were thousands through that rainy spell—but now where can they be?" The old black hen who heard him didn't grumble or complain, She had gone through lots of dry spells; she had lived through floods of rain. So she flew up on the grindstone, and she gave her claws a whet, As she said, "I've never seen the time there weren't worms to get." She picked a new undug spot; the earth was hard and firm, The little rooster jeered, "New ground; that's no place for a worm!" The old black hen just spread her feet, she dug both fast and free, "I must go to the worms," she said, "the worms won't come to me." The rooster vainly spent his day, through habit, by the ways Where fat round worms had passed in squads back in the rainy days. When night-fall found him supperless, he growled in accents rough, "I'm hungry as a fowl can be. Conditions sure are rough." He turned then to the old black hen and said, "It's worse with you. For you're not only hungry, but you must be tired too. I rested while I watched for worms, so I feel fairly perk; But how are you? Without worms too? And after all that work?" The old black hen hopped to her perch and dropped her eyes to sleep, And murmured in a drowsy tone, "Young man, hear this and weep. I'm full of worms and happy, for I've dined both long and well. The worms are there 'as always—but I had to dig like hell!" Oh, here and there, red roosters still are holding sales positions. They cannot do much business now because of poor conditions. But soon as things get right again they'll sell a hundred firms— Meanwhile the old black hens are out and gobbling up the worms. —By permission of "The Roost." Telling Time. The time of day I do not tell, As some do, by the clock; Or by the distant chiming bells, Set on some steeple rock; But by the progress that I see, In what I have to do; It's either Done o'clock to me, Or only Half-past Through. —John Kendrick Bangs. NANTAHALA We were very happily surprised when we received a copy of The Hardwood Bark after its long silence. Now comes a longing to ramble in its branches. Mr. Fred Johnson of Franklin, N. C, who is in poor health, is leaving this week for Florida. Mr. Johnson has served as the Company lawyer for a number of years. The first birth we have to report from Nantahala is a bouncing baby girl that came to the home of Mr. and Mrs. Martin Dickinson. Mr. James A. Porter, contractor for the W. M. Ritter Lumber Co., is at home part of the month of February, entertaining the Presiding Elder and Stewards of the First Methodist Church. Church organization is just as important as sawmill organization, and you have to hand it to Jim Porter when it comes to church work in Macon County. But when he goes up to his little circular mill he knows how to give the loggers Hallelujah! V * •a-'irVy No. 1—A trajnload of logs enroute to Colleton—a sight that the Superintendent likes to see. No. 2—Here it comes out on the chains—40,000 feet today—if it keeps coming like this. *■ t> PROCTOR Mrs. Ed. Craddock is still in Fieldale, Va., where she was called by the illness of her mother. Mr. Ed. Craddock has just returned from McClure, Va., where he has been to see how things are done up in that neck of the woods. Mr. Clarence English and Mr. John Orr happen to be unfortunate enough to occupy the only unheated room at the Club House. The kitchen stove often takes spells of smoking when the fire is first built in the morning. The unprecedented thing of Mr. Bearden's waking at 5:30 occurred; and upon smelling and seeing smoke in his room he imme diately jumped at the conclusion that the house was on fire, climbed out of bed and proceeded to alarm the occupants. After frantic efforts of Mr. English to wake Mr. Orr, he was only rewarded by hearing the following remark: "Perhaps our room will be warmed up for once," and Orr snored on. Dr. Storie: "I'll bet you ten dollars, Sheriff, that your prisoners will break jail inside of ten days." Sheriff Moore: "I'll take you, Doc." The story goes that Doc found it necessary to go to Bryson City within the ten days and strange as the coincidence may seem, all the prisoners escaped from the county jail that same night. Of course, no one would even think of implicating Doc as an accomplice in this getaway, but we all know he is a strong advocate of "Safety First" in a business deal. It would seem possible that at least some of our Proctor bachelors might now enter the much desired and blissful state of matrimony since the advent of the new style of proposing—requiring only a hefty .45 and the nerve to say, "Marry me or I'll kill you." This method is especially recommended to those who claim to have been disappointed in love so many times. Mrs. Joe Cunningham is quite seriously ill at her home in North Proctor. The following births occurred during the month of January: Boy to Mr. and Mrs. John Wright, January 3. Girl to Mr. and Mrs. A. N. Cook, January 9. Girl, Edith, to Mr. and Mrs. A. L. Almond, January 11. Boy, Cecil, to Mr. and Mrs. Lee Crispe, January 11. Boy, Joel Hill, to Mr. and Mrs. John Hicks, January 14. Girl, Hilma, to Mr. and Mrs. O. F. Nelson, January 19. Girl, Nellie, to Mr. and Mrs. E. D. Cable, January 23. Mr. E. E. Ritter is with us at present. He's telling some bigger duck stories than ever this trip. He and Mr. Calfee must have found some hunting down in S. C. Mr. Bryon Calhoun and Miss Iva Jones, the eldest daughter of D. Jones, were united in marriage January first. Not a bad start. "Do you know anything about palmistry, Herbert?" she asked. "Oh, not much," he answered, "although I had an experience last night which might be considered a remarkable example of palmistry. I happened to glance at the hand of a friend, and I immediately predicted he would presently become the possessor of a considerable amount of money. Before he left the room he had a nice little sum handed to him." "And you foretold that from his hand?" "Yes, it had four aces in it."
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Great Smoky Mountains - A Park for America

This digital collection was created to contribute to the public's understanding of the forces and ideas that led to the establishment of the Great Smoky Mountains National Park in 1934. The most vi...

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