HANS IN LUCK: Part II

Dear Friends,
Sorry I have not posted sooner. The only excuse I can give is the holidays.
I'm sure you will understand.
Christmas for me was fairly uneventful. Except for the fact my fridge is not working. We ordered one on black Friday. It was suppose to be here on the 15th. No show. Now I'm told it won't be here till maybe the 6th of January at the earliest. So I'm not a very happy person right now. They never called to say that there was a delay in getting it. I did let them know how unhappy I am right now. After this I don't plan on doing business with them again. I could name them but I won't.
Anyway, other things are looking up for me. I like to look at it this way. Once this is settled things will be a little better. 2019 was not a good year. One phrase I've seen a number of time concerning this year: " What the Hell was that?" I like to say that 2020 will be better. We will be able to see things more clearly.

Here is the second part of Hans In Luck:

II
The Pig, The Goose, The Grindstone, and
Nothing.

So on he jogged, and all seemed now to go
well with him. He had met with some ill luck, to
be sure, but he was now well repaid. The next
person he met was a Farmer carrying a fine white
goose under his arm. The Farmer stopped to
ask what o'clock it was, and Hans told him all
his luck, and how he had made so many good
bargains. The Farmer said he was going to take
the goose to market.
"Feel," said he, "how heavy it is, and yet it
is only eight weeks old. Whoever roasts and
eats it may cut plenty of fat off it, it has lived
so well."
"You are right," said Hans, as he weighed
the goose in his hand; "but my pig is no
trifle." Now the Farmer began to look grave, and
shook hi head.
"Hark ye, my good friend," said he. "Your
pig may get you into a scrape. In the village I
just came from the squire has had a pig stolen
out of his sty. I was very much afraid whn I
saw you that you had the squire's pig. It will
be a bad job it they catch you; the least they
will do will be to throw you into the horse
pond." Poor Hans was in great fright.

"Good man," he cried," pray get me out of
this scrape. You know the country better than
I; take my pig and give me the goose,"
"I ought to have something into the bargain,"
said the Farmer. "However, I will not be hard
upon you, since you are in trouble." Then he
took the string in his hand, and drove the pig
away by a side path, while Hans went on, free
from care.
"After all," thought Hans, "I have the best
of the bargain. First, there will be a capital
roast; then the fat will keep me in goose-grease
for six months; and there are all the soft white
feathers. I shall put them into my pillow, and
then I shall sleep soundly. How happy my
mother will be!"
As he came to the last village on the way, he saw
 a Scissors-grinder with his wheel, working
away and singing merrily. Hans stood by looking
on for a while, and at last said:--
"You must be well off, Master Grinder, you
seem so happy at your work."
"Yes," said the other; "mine is a golden
trade; a good grinder never puts his hand into
his pocket without finding money. But where
did you get that beautiful goose?"
"I did not buy it, but changed a pig for it."
"And where did you get the pig?"
"I gave a cow for it."

"And the cow?"
"I gave a horse for it."
"And the horse?"
"I gave a piece of silver as big as my head
for that."
"And the silver?"
"Oh, I worked hard for that for seven long
years."
"You have done well so far," said the
Grinder. "Now if you could find money in
your pocket whenever you put your hand into
it, your fortune would be made."
"Very true; but how is that to be brought
about?"
"You must turn grinder like me. You only
want a grindstone; the rest will come of itself.
Here is one that is a little the worse for wear; I
would not ask more than your goose for it;--
will you buy?"
"How can you ask such a question?" replied
Hans; "I should be the happiest fellow in the
world, if I could have money whenever I put my
hand into my pocket. What could I want more?
There is the goose!"
"Now," said the Grinder, as he gave him a
common rough stone that lay by his side,"this
is a capital stone; only use it cleverly, and you
can make an old nail cut with it." Hans took
the stone, and went off with a light heart. His
eyes shone for joy, and he said to himself:--

"I must have been born in a lucky hour.
Everything I want or wish for comes to me of
itself."
Now Hans began to be tired, for he had been
traveling ever since daybreak. He was hungry,
too, for he had spent his last penny. At last
he could go no further, for the stone was very
heavy. He dragged himself to the side of a
pond; there he meant to drink some water and
rest awhile. He laid the stone carefully by his
side on the bank, and stooped to drink; but he
forgot the stone and pushed it a little; down it
went plump into the pond.
For a while he watched it in the deep clear
water; then he sprang up for joy, and again fell
on his knees and thanked Heaven with tears in
his eyes for taking away his only plague, the
ugly heavy stone.
"How happy I am!" he cried. "Surely no
mortal was ever so lucky as I." Then he got
up with a light and merry heart, and walked
on, free from all his troubles, till he reached his
mother's house.


What a story. He started with a piece of silver as big as his head and by the time he reached his mothers house he had nothing. I wonder if his mother was able to get him to see how much he was taken advantage of by everyone he met. I do wonder what he did for seven years. Was he a good worker or did he only do the minimum amount of work?
What do you think is the moral of this story? 

Trying to find figure out what I should show you this time I found a news paper from here.
I scanned two things from The Star News Thursday May 11, 1978:

 I'm actually in this one. I'm on the left. 

I story on a local business. Believe me a lot has changed.

I choose another picture from the past:

I wonder how different this view is today.

Well that's all I have to share with you today.
I look forward to sharing more things with you in 2020.
I hope you will come back soon for more Fading History.
Till then.
Your friend,
Sandy

Hans In Luck: Part 1

Dear Friends,
I hope this post finds you all well. I know I should have posted sooner. But, to tell the truth, I have not been in the mood to sit down at the computer and write. Not to say I don't have anything to say. Just not in the mood. Maybe it's the coming holidays. Maybe it's just other things in life getting in the way. Maybe I'm just procrastinating about getting somethings done. Oh well, I'm here now.
It's finally looking like the Decembers I remember from my childhood.

This was taken Thanksgiving at my parents house. There is more snow on the ground now.
Anyway, here is the first part of the next story from The Riverside Literature Series:

HANS IN LUCK
1.
The Silver, The Horse, The Cow, and The Pig

Hans had served his master seven years, and
at last said to him:--
"Master, my time is up; I should like to go
home and see my mother; so give me my
wages." And the Master said:--
"You have been a good and faithful servant,
so your pay shall be handsome." Then he gave
him a piece of silver as big as his head.
Hans took out his handkerchief, put the piece
of silver into it, hung it over his shoulder, and
jogged off homeward. As he went lazily on,
dragging one foot after the other, a man came
 in sight, trotting along gayly on a capital horse.
"Ah!" said Hans aloud, "what a fine thing
it is to ride on horseback! there he sits as if he
were at home in his chair; he trips against no
stones, spares, his shoes, and gets on he hardly
knows how." The Horseman heard this, and
said:_-

"Well, Hans, why do you go on foot then?"
"Ah," said he, "I have this load to carry;
to be sure it is silver, but it is so heavy that I
cannot hold up my head, and it hurts my
shoulder sadly."
"What do you say to changing?" asked the
Horseman. "I will give you my horse, and you
shall give me your silver."
"With all my heart," said Hans. "But I
will tell you one thing-- you will have a weary
task to drag it along." The Horseman got off,
took the silver, helped Hans up, put the bridle
into his hand, and said:--
"When you want to go very fast, you must
smack your lips, and cry 'Jip.'"
Hans was delighted as he sat on the horse and
rode merrily on. After a time he thought he
should like to go a little faster, so he smacked
his lips and cried"Jip." Away went the horse
full gallop; Hans held on tightly, but soon he
was thrown off, and lay in a ditch by the road-
side. His horse would have run away, if a Cow-
hers had not stopped it. Hans soon came to
himself, and got upon his legs again. He was
greatly vexed, and said to the Cowherd:--
"This riding is no joke when a man gets on
a beast like this, that stumbles ans flings him off
now once for all. I like your cow a great deal

better. I could walk along at my ease behind
her, and have milk, butter, and cheese every day
into the bargain. What would I give to have
such a cow!"
"Well," said the Cowherd," if you are so
fond of her, I will change my cow for your
horse."
"Done!" said Hans merrily. The Cowherd
jumped upon the horse and away he rode.
Hans drove his cow quietly, and thought his
bargain a very lucky one.
"If I have only a piece of bread-- and I cer-
tainly shall be able to get that-- I can eat my
butter and cheese with it. When I am thirsty I
can milk my cow and drink the milk. What can
I wish for more?"
Now he came to an inn; he halted, and gave
away his last penny for a piece of bread, and ate
it. Then he drove his cow toward the village
where his mother lived. The heat grew greater
as noon came on, till at last he found himself on
a wide plain; it would take him more than an
hour to cross the plain. He began to be so hot
and parched that his tongue cleaved to the roof
of his mouth.
"I can find a cure for this," Thought he;
"now I will milk my cow and quench my thirst."
So he tied her to the stump of a tree, and held
his leathern cap to milk into it; but not a drop
was to be had.

While he was trying his luck and doing very
ill, the uneasy beast gave him a kick on the
head; the kick knocked him down, and there he
lay a long time senseless. Luckily a Butcher
soon came by, wheeling a pig in a wheelbarrow.
"What is the matter with you?" asked the
Butcher, as he helped him up. Hans told him
what had happened, and the Butcher gave him
some water.
"There, drink and refresh yourself. Your
cow will give you no milk; she is an old beast,
fit only to be killed and eaten."
"Alas, alas!" If I kill her, what would she
be good for? I hate cow-beef; it is not tender
enough for me. If it were a pig now, I could
do something with it; it would at any rate make
some sausages."
"Well," said the Butcher," to please you, I
will change, and give you the pig for the cow."
"Heaven reward you for your kindness!" said
Hans, as he gave the Butcher the cow. He
took the pig off the wheelbarrow, and drove it
along, holding it by the string that was tied to
its leg.

Well what do you think of this story so far?  So far he started out with silver as large as his head, and now he has a pig. Do you think any of his trades were very smart or did all the others see a not so bright person?
Stay tuned  till next time for the conclusion of this tale.

Since it is winter time and Christmas is almost here I'll share with you once again a few pictures I posted before.

 A winter scene from the past that looks like it does today right now.

 A Christmas greeting from the past.

Me and my siblings at Christmas time.(I'm on the right).

Well that's all I have for you today.
I hope you have a good week.
Come back soon for more Fading History.
Till then.
Your friend,
Sandy

The Star-Gazer plus three more stories

Dear Friends,
I hope this finds you all well. As for me a couple of changes. I no longer have the dogs. Two other family members have taken them. I hope they will be well taken care of. The husband has now gone back to work. So I once again have most of my nights to myself.
The weather here is now turning colder. I'm not sure if I'm ready for winter. But there is nothing I can do to change what is heading our way.

Anyway, here are four short stories from the Riverside Literature Series:

THE STAR-GAZER.

A certain wise man wont to go out every
evening and gaze at the stars. Once his walk
took him outside of the town, and as he was
looking with all his eyes into the sky, and did
not see where he was going, he feel into a ditch.
He was in a sad plight, and set up a cry. A
man who was passing by heard him, and stopped
to see what was the matter.
"Ah, sir," said he, "when you are trying to
make out what is in the sky, you do not see
what is on earth."


THE BOY AND THE NETTLE.

A Boy playing in the fields was stung by a
 Nettle. He ran home to his Mother, and told
her that he had but touched the weed, and it
had stung him.
"It was just touching it that stung you,"
said she. "The next time you meddle with a
Nettle, grasp it boldly, and it will not hurt you."


THE DOG IN THE MANGER.

A Dog once made his bed in a manger. He
could not eat the grain there, and he would not
let the Ox eat it, who could.


THE BOY WHO STOLE APPLES.

An Old Man found a rude Boy up in one of
his trees, stealing apples, and bade him come
down. The young rogue told him plainly that
he would not.
"Won't you?" said the Old Man. "Then
I will fetch you down." So he pulled up some
tufts of grass and threw them at him; but this
only made the youngster laugh.
"Well, well," said the Old Man. If neither
words nor grass will do, I will try what virtue
there is in stones." With that he pelted the
Boy heartily with stones, which soon made him
clamber down from the tree and beg the Old
Man's pardon.

These are my brief summary of these stories.

Story number 1.
If this story was wrote today the person would not be looking at the stars, but at their phone.  Same result.

Story number 2.
If you have ever come upon nettle you will know that just lightly touching one will sting. I'm not sure about grasping some boldly will not hurt you. Never tried have you?

Story number 3.
Sounds like someone that will do what they want but not let someone else have what they need.

Story number 4.

The man gave the boy two chances to get out of the tree safely. It took something hard to really get his attention.


Here are a couple of newspaper clippings:

 I think this is someone grandma knew from Birnamwood.

This is a clipping from The Chicago Sunday Tribune July 18, 1954.

Here is a picture I might have shown you before:

Not sure who these girls are. There a number of pictures of them.

Well, that's all I have to share with you today.
I hope you will come back soon for more Fading History.
Till then.
Your friend,
Sandy

The Elves and The Shoemaker

Dear Friends,
I hope your week was good. Mine was good. But my youngest daughters was not. On Friday her husband her and their little girl (Granddaughter) were going down the highway when they hit a deer. The son-in-law got a very soar thumb. The daughter got a very sore ear and a bruise on her shoulder. Mostly from the air bags and the seat belt. Granddaughter is fine. But she keeps saying deer, and car broken.The car, is not so good. It's going to a task for them to figure out what to do next with the car.
I don't know about you, but this has been a very challenging year for us.

Anyway, here is the next story from Riverside Literature Series:

THE ELVES AND THE SHOEMAKER

There was once a Shoemaker who worked very
hard and was honest. Still, he could not earn
enough to live on, and at last all he had in
the world was gone except just leather enough
to make one pair of shoes. He cut these out at
night, and meant to rise early the next morning
to make them up.
His heart was light amid all his troubles, for
his conscience was clear. So he went quietly to
bed, left all his cares to God, and fell asleep.
In the morning he said his prayers and sat down
to work, when, to his great wonder, there stood
the shoes, already made, upon the table.
The good man knew not what to say or think.
He looked at the work; there was not one false
stitch in the whole job; all was neat and true.
That same day a customer came in, and the
shoes pleased him so well that he readily paid a
price higher than usual for them. The Shoe-

maker took the money and bought leather
enough to make two pairs more. He cut out
the work in the evening and went to bed early.
He wished to be up with the sun and get to
work.
He was saved all trouble, for when he got up
in the morning, the work was done, ready to his
hand. Pretty soon buyers came in, who paid
him well for his goods. So he bought leather
enough for four pairs more.
He cut out the work again over night, and
found it finished in the morning as before. So
it went on for some time. What was got ready
at night was always done by daybreak, and the
good man soon was well to do.
One evening, at Christmas time, he and his
wife sat over the fire, chatting, and he said:--
"I should like to sit up and watch to-night,
that we may see who it is that comes and does
my work for me." His wife liked the thought.
So they left the light burning, and hid them-
selves behind a curtain to see what would
happen.
As soon as it was midnight there came two
little Elves. They sat upon the Shoemaker's
bench, took up all the work that was cut out,
and began to ply their little fingers. They
stitched and rapped and tapped at such a rate
that the Shoemaker was all amazement, and could
not take his eyes off them for a moment.

On they went busily till the job was quite
done, and the shoes stood, ready for use upon
the table. This was long before daybreak.
Then they bustled away as quick as lightning.
The next day the wife said to the Shoemaker:--
"These little Elves have made us rich, and we
ought to be thankful to them and do them some
good in return. I am quite vexed to see them
run about as they do. They have nothing upon
their backs to keep off the cold. I'll tell you
what we must do; I will make each of them a
shirt, and a coat and waistcoat, and a pair of
pantaloons into the bargain. Do you make each
of them a little pair of shoes."
The good Shoemaker liked the thought very
well. One evening, he and his wife had the
clothes ready, and laid them on the table instead
of the work, they used to cut out. Then they
went and hid behind the curtain to watch what
the little Elves would do.
At midnight the Elves came in and were going
to sit down at their work as usual; but
when they saw the clothes lying there for them,
they laughed and were in high glee. They
dressed themselves in the twinkling of an eye,
and danced and capered and sprang about as
merry as could be, till at last they danced out of
the door, and over the green.
The Shoemaker saw them no more, but every-

went well with him from that time forward
as long as he lived.

I like this story. A good man getting help from the unknown in return helps them. It's something I believe in. Paying it forward in a way.

Here is one more short story:

THE ASS IN THE LION'S SKIN

The Ass once dressed himself in the Lion's
skin, and went about scaring all the little beasts.
He met the Fox, and tried to scare him too, but
the Fox stopped, and said:--
"Well, to be sure, I should have been scared
like the others, if I had not heard you bray and
seen your ears stick out."

I guess the lesson here is you can't fool everyone into believing you are a mighty Lion when you are really an Ass.

Here are three more things from Morning Star, Okinawa February 21, 1963:

Well that's all I have to share with you today.
I hope you will come back soon for more Fading History.
Till then.
Your friend,
Sandy

Morning Star, Okinawa; February 21, 1963

Dear Friends,
I hope this finds you all well. Me? The same. It looks like I will have the two dogs for a very extended amount of time.
The weather here, as it is for most I believe, is not the kind of weather most want this time of year.
The other day when the husband was letting the dogs out into their outside pen, one of them started barking at something. First he thought maybe a deer. But no deer. The he looked in the tall grass. He was what he thought was a big cat. It was a big cat, a "Bobcat". He got the dogs into the house got a gun and shot into the air to scare it away. So we have to be careful when we let the dogs out. There is also a pack of coyotes in the neighborhood.

Anyway, here are two short stories from the Riverside Literature Series:

First up:

THE CROW AND THE PITCHER

A Crow that was very thirsty found a Pitcher
with a little water in it, but the water lay so low
that she could not come at it.
She tried first to break the pitcher, and then
to overturn it, but it was both too strong and
too heavy for her. She thought at last of a way,
for she dropped a great many little pebbles into
the Pitcher, and thus raised the water until she
could reach it.

Crows are a smart bird. I have heard of them actually doing this. Just another very smart female.

Second:

A COUNTRY FELLOW AND THE RIVER

A stupid Boy, who was sent to market by the
good old woman, his Mother, to sell butter and
cheese, made a stop by the way at a swift river,
and laid himself down on the bank there, until
it should run out.
About midnight, home he goes to his Mother,
with all his market goods back again.
"Why, how now, my Son?" says she.
"What have we here?"
"Why, Mother, yonder is a river that has
been running all this day, and I stayed till just
now, waiting for it to run out; there it is,
running still."
"My Son," says the good woman,"thy head
and mine will be laid in the grave many a day
before this river has all run by. You will never
sell your butter and cheese if you wait for
that."

I do wonder what this boys name was.
I think all he wanted to do was be lazy and not do what he was told and blame something else for him not doing what he was told. Just being a stupid boy.

I have part of a newspaper from Okinawa called Morning Star. It's from February 21, 1963.
Here are a few stories from it.

I think this was a time when Uncle Kenny may have been stationed in Okinawa. Or maybe Uncle Peter. Not sure which one right now.

Well, that's all I have to share with you today.
I hope you will come by again real soon for more Fading History.
Till then.
Your friend,
Sandy

Little Red-Riding -Hood: Riverside Literature Series

Dear Friends,
I hope this finds you all well. Me? Well I know have two little dogs at my house.

 This is Little Foot. (Sometimes called Little Man)

This is Lucky.

They belong to my mother in law. Last weekend she had a stroke. It is going to be a while for her to get better. So in the mean time her dogs are living with me.

Anyway here is the next story from the book.

LITTLE RED-RIDING-HOOD

Once upon a time there lived in a certain
village a little girl. Her mother was very fond of
her, and her grandmother doted on her even
more. This good old woman made for her a
red cloak, which suited the child so well that ever
after she was called Little Red-Riding-Hood.
One day her mother made some cakes, and
said to Little Red-Riding-Hood:--
"Go, my dear, and see how grandmother
does, for I hear that she has been very ill.
Carry her a cake and a little pot of butter."
Little Red-Riding-Hood set out at once to go
to her grandmother, who lived in another village.
As she was going through the wood she met a
large
wolf. He had a very great mind to eat
her up; but he dared not, for there were some
wood-choppers near by. So he asked her:--
"Where are you going, little girl?" The
poor child did not know that it was dangerous
to stop and talk with the Wolf, she said:--

"I am going to see my grandmother, and
carry a cake and a little pot of butter from
my mother."
"Does she live far off?" asked the Wolf.
"Oh, yes. It is beyond that mill you see
there, at the first house in the village."
"Well" said the Wolf, "I will go and see
her too. I will go this way; do you go that,
and we will see who will be there soonest."
At this the Wolf began to run fast as he
could, taking the nearest way, and Little Red-
Riding-Hood went by the farthest. She stopped
often to chase a butterfly, or pluck a flower, and
so she was a good while on the way. The Wolf
was soon at the old woman's house, and knocked
at the door-- tap,, tap!
"Who is there?"
"Your grandchild, Little Red-Riding-Hood,"
replied the Wolf, changing his voice. "I have
brought you a cake and a pot of butter from
mother." The good grandmother, who was ill
in bed, called out:--
"Pull the string, and the latch will go up."
The Wolf pulled the string, and the latch went
up. The door opened, and he jumped in, and
fell upon the old woman, and ate her up in less
than no time, for he had not tasted food for
three days. He then shut the door, and got into
the grandmother's bed. By and by, Little Red-

Riding-Hood came and knocked at the door--
tap, tap!
"Who is there?"
Little Red-Riding-Hood heard the big voice
of the Wolf, and at first she was afraid. Then
she thought her grandmother must have a bad
cold, and be very hoarse, so she answered:--
"Little Red-Riding-Hood. I have brought
you a cake and a pot of butter from mother."
The Wolf softened his voice as much as he could,
and called out:--
"Pull the string, and the latch will go up."
Little Red-Riding-Hood pulled the string, and
the latch went up, and the door opened. The
Wolf was hiding under the bed clothe and called
out in a muffled voice:--
"Put the cake and the pot of butter on the
shelf, and come to bed."
Little Red-Riding-Hood made ready for bed.
Then she looked with wonder at her grand-
mother, who had changed so much, and she
said:--
"Grandmother, what great arms you have!"
"The better to hug you, my dear."
"Grandmother, what great ears you have!"
"The better to hear you, my dear."
"Grandmother, what great eyes you have!"
"The better to see, my dear."
"Grandmother, what great teeth you have!"

"The better to eat you." And at this the
wicked Wolf sprang up and fell upon poor Little
Red-Riding-Hood and ate her all up.

I know we all know this story has many different versions. But I think this is the original one of it. What is your favorite version?
 

Here are couple of little articles I found:

 Lawrence J. Ecker is a relation to my Grandma Johnson.

 I wonder how this one turned out for John Jewel Sr. I wonder what motivated him to do this and if he had ever done anything like that before of after.

Well, that's all I have to share with you today.
I hope you come back soon for more blasts from the past.
Till then.
Your friend,
Sandy

Little One Eye, Little Two Eyes, And Little Three Eyes: Part III

Dear Friends,
I hope this post finds you all well.
Here it's been  a challenging few days. First the husband had surgery to have a couple of screws taken out of his ankle. They were put in a couple of years ago when his ankle was broken. He is doing fine. On crutches and hobbling around but doing good.The second thing that happened was my mother-in-law had a stroke on Saturday. So right now it's a waiting game to find out how she is. I'll try to keep you posted on how she is doing from time to time.

Anyway here is the final chapter of : "Little One Eye, Little Two eyes, and Little Three Eyes"

      III.
The Prince.

While they stood by the tree, the Prince
came riding near on a fine horse.
"Quick, Little Two eyes," said her sisters,
"creep under this cask; we are ashamed of
you;" and they threw an empty cask over her,
and pushed the golden apples under it. The
Prince rode up and gazed at the splendid tree.
"Is this splendid tree yours?" he asked of
the sisters. " If you will give me a branch
from it. I will give you anything you wish."
Then Little One Eye and Little Three Eyes
said the tree was theirs, and they would break

off a branch for him. They put out their hands,
but again the branches sprang back. Then the
Prince said:--
"This is very strange. The tree is yours,
and yet you cannot pluck the fruit."
They kept on saying that the tree was theirs,
but while they were saying this, Little Two
Eyes rolled a few of the apples out from
under the cask. The Prince saw them, and
asked:--
"Why! where did these golden apples come
from? Who is under the cask?" Little One
Eye and Little Three Eyes told the Prince
that they had a sister.
"But she does not show herself," they said.
"She is just like other people. She has two
eyes." Then the Prince called:--
"Little Two Eyes! come out!" So Little
Two Eyes was very glad and crept out from
under the cask.
"Can you get me a branch from the tree?"
"Yes," said Little Two Eyes, "I can, for
the tree is mine." Then she climbed the tree
and broke off a branch. It had silver leaves
and golden fruit, and she gave it to the Prince.
Then the Prince said:--
"Little Two Eyes, what shall I give you for it?"
"Oh," said Little Two Eyes, "I suffer hunger

and thirst all day long. If you would take me
with you, I should be happy."
So the Prince lifted Little Two Eyes upon his
horse, and they rode away. He took her to his
father's house and made her Princess, and she
had plenty to eat and drink and good clothes
to wear. Best of all, the Prince loved her, and
she had no more hard knocks and cross words.
Now, when Little Two Eyes rode away with
the Prince, the sisters said:--
"Well, we shall have the tree. We may not
pluck the fruit, but every one will stop to see it
and come to us and praise it." The next morning
they went to look at the tree, and it was
gone.
Little Two Eyes lived long and happily.
One day, two poor women came to her, and
asked for something to eat. Little Two Eyes
looked at their faces and knew them. They
were Little One Eye and Little Three Eyes.
They were so poor that they were begging bread
from door to door. Little Two Eyes brought
them into the house and was very good to them.
Then they both were sorry for the evil they had
once done their sister.

What do you think the lessons are here?
To me it's a kind of Cinderella story. But instead step sisters and step mother they are her blood family. Blood family can be just a nasty to one another as step families can be.
But even though they were so mean to her she still showed them kindness when they needed it the most.

Looking through somethings I've picked out an obituary for my great grandmother Mrs. Rose Ecker:

It is laminated. 49 years ago.

Here is thing some people might be interested in:

I found this re-elect card for Senator Heden and then his obituary and decided to show them both.

Well that's all I have to share with you today.
I hope you will come back next time for another story and what ever else I have to share with.
Till next time.
 Your friend,
Sandy

Little One Eye, Little Two Eyes and Little Little Three Eyes: Part II

Dear Friends,
How are you? I'm good. I had a very good week. No dramas. No trouble. Just the way I like it.
Anyway, here is chapter two of "Little One Eye, Little Two Eyes, and Little Three Eyes:

              II.
        The Tree

The next day, the mother said to Little
Three Eyes:-
"This time you must go with Little Two
Eyes, and see if any one brings her food and
drink." Then Little Three Eyes said to Little
Two Eyes:-
"I will go with you into the field, and see
that the goat is well taken care of, and feeds in
the best pasture." But Little Two Eyes saw
what Little Three Eyes had in her mind. So
she drove the goat into the long grass, and
said:-
"Come, Little Three Eyes, we will sit down,
and I will sing to you." Little Three Eyes
sat down; she was tired after her long walk
in the hot sun, and Little Two Eyes began
to sing, as before:-
"Are you awake, Little Three Eyes?" but
instead of going on,-

"Are you asleep, Little Three Eyes?" she
did not think, and sang:--
"Are you asleep, Little Two Eyes?" and
went on:--
"Are you awake, Little Three Eyes? Are
you asleep, Little Two Eyes? Are you awake?
Are you asleep? Awake? Asleep?" By this
time the two eyes of Little Three Eyes fell asleep,
but the third eye did not go to sleep, for it
was not spoken to by the verse. Little Three
Eyes, to be sure, shut it, and made believe that
it went to sleep. Then she opened it a little
way and watched Little Two Eyes.
When Little Two Eyes thought Little Three
Eyes was fast asleep, she said softly:--
"Little goat, bleat; little table rise;" and
she sat at the table and ate and drank till
she had had enough. Then she said as
before:--
"Little goat, bleat; little table away."
But Little Three Eyes had seen everything.
Little Two Eyes now woke Little Three Eyes,
and said:--
"Little Three Eyes, why do you not watch?
You have been asleep, and the goat could have
run all over the world. Come! let us go home."
So home they went, and Little Two Eyes again
did not touch the dish. Then Little Three
Eyes said to the mother:--

"I know why the proud thing does not eat.
She says to the goat: 'Little goat, bleat;
little table, rise,' and there stands a table
before her. It is covered with the very best of
things to eat, much better than anything we
have. When she has had enough to eat, she
says: 'Little goat, bleat; little table, away,'
and all is gone. I have seen it just as it is.
She put two eyes to sleep with a song,
but the one in my forehead stayed awake."
Then the mother cried out:--
"Shall she be better off than we are?" With
that she took a knife and killed the goat.
Poor Little Two Eyes went to the field, and
sat down and began to cry. All as once the
wise woman stood near her, and asked:--
"Little Two Eyes, why do you cry?" Little
Two Eyes said:--
"Have I not need to cry? My mother has
killed the goat. Now I must suffer hunger and
thirst again." The wise woman said:--
"Little Two Eyes, dry your eyes, and I will
tell you what to do. Beg your sisters to give
you the heart of the goat. Then bury it in
the ground before the door of the house. All
will go well with you." Then the wise woman
was gone, and Little Two Eyes went home and
said to her sisters:--
"Sisters, give me some part of my goat.

I do not ask for anything but the heart."
They laughed, and said:--
"You can have that, if you do not want
anything else." Little Two Eyes took the heart
and buried it in the ground before the door
of the house.
Next morning the sisters woke and saw a
splendid tree in front of the house. It had
leaves of silver and fruit of gold. It was
wonderful to behold; and they could not think
how the tree had come there in the night.
Only Little Two eyes saw that the tree had
grown out of the heart of the goat. Then the
mother said to Little One Eye:--
"Climb up, my child, and pluck some fruit
from the tree." Little One Eye climbed the
tree. She put out her hand to take a golden
apple, but the branch sprang back. This took
place every time. Try as hard as she could,
she could not get a single apple. Then the
mother said:--
"Little Three Eyes, do you climb up. You
can see better with your three eyes than Little
One Eye can." Down came Little One Eye,
and Little Three Eyes climbed the tree. But
it was with her just as it had been with Little
One Eye. She put out her hand, and the
branch sprang back. At last the mother tried,
but it was the same with her. She could not

get a single apple. Then Little Two Eyes
said:--
"Let me try."
"You!" they all cried. "You with your
two eyes like other people! What can you
do?" But Little Two Eyes climbed the tree,
and the branch did not spring back. The
golden apples dropped into her hands, and she
brought down her apron full of them. Her
mother took them away from her, and her two
sisters were angry because they had failed, and
they were more cruel than ever to Little Two
Eyes.

You got to love this family. How will it all end for Little Eyes?
Stay tuned for the final chapter next time and learn what happens.

I'm still getting use to my new computer. Scanning things are a bit different from before. But I am getting the hang of it. So that being said here are a couple of little stories from a couple of different newspapers.

The first one might be from The Milwaukee Journal. The second a local paper.

Well that's all I have to share with you today.
I hope everyone has a very good weekend.
Till next time.
Your friend,
Sandy

Little One Eye, Little Two Eyes, and Little Three Eyes

Dear Friends,
I hope this post finds you all well. I'm doing good.
A few months ago my computer died. So I am still trying to get use to this new one.
I still have all of the things I've shared with you in the past.
Right now I'm working on scanning new things to the computer to share with you.
Here is the first thing I've managed to scan.

This is a story from the Antigo Daily Journal. Monday, June 29, 1970.
That was my birthday!
It looks a little out of focus but it's the paper.

Anyway, here is the first part of the story I promised.

Little One Eye, Little Two Eyes, and
Little Three eyes.
           I.
    The Goat.

There was a woman who had three
daughters. The eldest was called Little One
Eye, because she only had one eye in the middle
of her forehead. The second was called Little
Two Eyes, because she had two eyes like other
people. The youngest was called Little Three
Eyes, because she had three eyes; the third eye
was in the middle of her forehead.
  Because Little Two Eyes look like other
people her sisters and her mother could not bear
her. They said:-
 "You have two eyes and are no better than
anybody else. You do not belong to us." They
knocked her about, and gave her shabby clothes,
and fed her with food left over from their meals;
in short, they vexed her whenever they could.

One day Little Two Eyes was sent into the
fields to look after the goat. She was quite
hungry, because her sisters had given her so
little to eat, and she sat down and began to
cry. She cried so hard that a little stream of
tears ran out of each eye. All at once a wise
woman stood near her, and asked:-
 "Little Two Eyes, why do you cry?" Little
Two Eyes said:-
 "Have I not need to cry? Because I have
two eyes, like other people, my sisters and my
mother cannot bear me. They knock me about;
they give me shabby clothes; and they feed
me only with the food left over from their
table. To-day they have given me so little
that I am quite hungry." The wise woman
said:-
 "Little Two Eyes, dry your eyes, and I will
tell you what to do. Only say to your goat:
'Little goat, bleat; little table rise,' and a
neatly-laid table will stand before you, covered
with food. Eat as much as you like. When
you have had all you want, only say: 'Little
goat, bleat; little table away,' and it will
be gone." Then the wise woman disappeared.
Little Two Eyes thought:-
 "I must try at once, for I am much too
hungry to wait." So she said:-
"Little goat, bleat; little table , rise." In a

twinkling there stood before her a little table
covered with a white cloth. On it were laid
a plate, knife and fork, and silver spoon.
The nicest food was on a plate, smoking hot.
Then little Two Eyes began to eat, and found
the food very good. When she had had enough,
she said:-
 "Little goat, bleat; little table away." In
an instant the table was gone.
 "That is a fine way to keep house," thought
Little Two eyes, she was quite merry.
 At the end of the day Little Two Eyes drove
her goat home. She found a dish with some
food in it; her sisters had put it aside for her
from their table, but she did not taste it. She
did not need it.
 The next day she went out again with her
goat, and did not take the few crusts which
her sisters put aside for her. This went on
for several days. At last her sisters said to
each other:-
 "All is not right with Little Two Eyes. She
always leaves her food; she used to eat all
that was given her; she must have found some
other way to be fed."
 They meant to find out what Little Two
Eyes did. So the next time that Little Two
Eyes set out, Little One Eye came to her and
said:-

 "I will go with you into the field, and see
that the goat is well taken care of, and feed
in the best pasture." But Little Two Eyes
saw what Little One Eye had in her mind.
So she drove the goat into the long grass, and
said:-
 "Come Little One Eye, we will sit down
and I will sing to you." Little One Eye sat
down; she was tired after her long walk in
the hot sun, Little Two Eyes began to
sing:-
 "Are you awake, Little One Eye? Are
you asleep, Little One Eye? Are you awake,
Little One Eye? Are you asleep, Little One
Eye? Are you awake? Are you asleep?
Awake? Asleep?" By this time Little One
Eye had shut her one eye and was fast asleep.
When Little Two Eyes saw this, she said
softly:-
 "Little goat, bleat: little table rise;" and
she sat at the table and ate and drank till
 she had had enough. Then she said as
before:-
 "Little goat, bleat; little table away," and
in a twinkling all was gone.
 Little Two Eyes now awoke Little One Eye,
and said:-
 "Little One Eye, why do you not watch?
You have been asleep, and the goat could have

run all over the world. Come! let us go
home." So home they went, and Little Two
Eyes again did not touch the dish. The others
asked Little One Eye what Little Two Eyes
did in the field. But she could only say:-
 "Oh, I fell asleep out there."


This is the first of three parts to this story.
One of my questions is about the mother. What did she look like? How many eyes did she have?

Well I think that's all I will share with you this time.
I hope everyone has a good weekend.
So till next time.
Your friend,
Sandy

Riverside Literature Series 1890

Dear Friends,
I know it has been a long time since you have heard from me. I am sorry. I have been thinking about where this blog was going after I was done with the main letters. Plus I needed a break for awhile. But the break is over.
I will try to put something from the past up once a week. I'll figure it out along the way which day of the week is best yet.
I do have a number of things that I have not shared with you yet. They range from more old pictures, a few old letters, books, old news stories and whatever I can manage to find and feel it's time to share.
So, for the first thing I will work on is fables and folk stories from this book.













I know I have shared one story from it.  Today I will share two little ones with you.
The first one is:

The Crab and His Mother.

Said his Mother to a crab: "Why do you
walk so crooked child? Walk straight."
"Mother," said he, "show me the way, and
I will try to walk like you." But as long as she
 could not walk straight, her son laughed at her
advice.

Here is the second one:

The Boys and the Frogs.

A company of idle Boys were watching some
Frogs by the side of a pond, and as fast as any
of the Frogs lifted their heads the Boys would
pelt them down again with stones.
"Boys," said one of the Frogs," you forget
that, though this may be fun for you, it is death
to us."


These are just two short ones. Each one tells a little wisdom to think about.
Some of the others in the book are longer and you will know some of them. But reading them I will tell you they have changed over the years. Some of the stories are in chapters. So when I show them I will present them in chapters.
I think the first one I will share with you is called; "Little One Eye, Little Two Eyes, and Little Three Eyes." This one has three chapters. So I will present it over time in three different posts.

Well what do you think?
If you have any ideas on how I can change things or add things I'm willing to hear about them.
So till next time.
Your friend,
Sandy

Joel Oscar Johnson: February 12, 1908

It's time to tell the story of Joel Oscar Johnson.

This is the portrait of Joel Oscar that is hanging at my parents house. No idea what year it was taken. He was a very handsome man for the time.

This is a newspaper story about his tragic death that hung in Uncle Thomas's house for many years. It is very fragile. It's kept in a frame to protect it for as long as possible.

Here is the story that is written at the bottom of the page:

Oscar Johnson, young fearless, broad-shouldered, strong limb and strong of heart, was carried into the very maw of death and lived to jest of the terrible experience. So close had he looked into the face of the grim angle that he scoffed and jeered at its fateful power, once he had escaped its clutches and then-but that is the squeal. Johnson's friends tell with baited breath the second chapter, for the young man was so daring is on more among the men who live.

 Where the broad Columbia River sweeps southward through Central Washington there is a distance of several miles down which the waters tumble and roar. This is Priest Rapids, the roughest most dangerous part of all the hundreds of miles that make up the mighty stream. Cascade after cascade marks the progress of the water as it dashes between the granite islands that block the current's course and over the giant boulders that strew its downward path. That a human being could pass down those rapids and live is a marvel of that outstrip action.

Above the rapids the Handford Irrigation Company is putting in a dam to force the waters into its canal. Foreman of this work was Johnson, 25 years old, tall and striking in appearance. In the swift current of the river great square cribs of wood are put in position to be filled with rock and other heavy material as a foundation for the dam. These cribs are held in place from the shore by heavy iron cables. Blocks of ice were floating swiftly down the stream on the bosom of a rising current when the crib in which Johnson worked snapped its shore cable and careened into the foaming waters of the rapids.

Like a rat in a trap was the foreman caught, and a cry of horror arose from on-shore, who had no idea of seeing their leader alive again. Down, down the path of the seething current was the cribbing carried; over and over it rolled as it struck rock and island, but the man it carried, agile as a cat fighting for his life as he never fought before, kept above the water ans out of harms way as his strange craft tore madly on its course.

For below the starting point of this wild ride the water, for a short distance, flows smooth and quiet, as if resting from its wild flight preparatory to its next leap downward. Reaching this place, though almost exhausted, Johnson managed to cast himself free and swim for the shore. Soon his companions were with him, joyful of his miraculous escape.

A week passed, and then the second chapter. Johnson thought he was immune from death; that his time had not come and he could brave the fate he chose. He kindled a fire with dynamite used in blasting for the company's work and instantly the scythe of his reaper cut him low. With a workman named John E. Bluher, he was engaged in thawing out his explosive. This is the story that Bluher tells:

"At about 2 o'clock p.m. on February 12, Johnson and I are standing near a little fire, where he was thawing out powder. He carelessly tried to rekindle the fire, which had burned low, with dynamite. He held a stick in his hand and was breaking off small pieces with his left hand and throwing them into the fire. He was standing then about two feet from twenty-four sticks of dynamite which he was thawing. The stick in his hand, and the twenty-four nearby appeared to explode all at the same time. Johnson was killed instantly, and was thrown fifteen to twenty feet be the force of the explosion."

It's a hell of a way to go, in my opinion. 

Here is a picture of his funeral:

"Oscar Johnson's funeral at Priest Rapids in Washington

He was killed February 12th, 1908."

Not sure who has this picture. I just have a photo copy of it.

A number of years ago my parents went out to Washington to find where he was buried.

Here is a copy of a picture from Maptech, Inc copyright 2002:

 If you look real close you will see where it says Johnson Grave.

My dad made a marker and was able to put it on the spot where his body is.

Well, that is the tragic tale of my Great Uncle Joel Oscar Johnson.

But there are still so many unanswered questions.

Like how involved was he with his girlfriend.

 Do I have family in Washington that we don't know about?

Will I ever know the reason he went out to Washington to work?

Maybe someday I will learn more about him. But the odds of that happening are growing smaller as each day goes by.

Well that's all for now.

I hope you will come back again soon for more Fading History.

Till then.

Your friend,

Sandy

Riverside Literature Series: copyright August 13, 1890

Dear Friends,
I know it's been awhile since I've posted anything. I'm still thinking about what I should show now that the letter are done.
This post I've decided to show you an old school book copyright 1890.

As you can see it's a book of Fables and Folk stories.
It has some of the known fables but they are a little different then what I remember.
I'm thinking of sharing some of the stories from time to time.
I'll start with some of the smaller ones that I will copy down as they are written. And maybe eventually I will show the longer ones.
But first I will share the preface:

Here is one of the short stories:

The Wind and The Sun

The Wind and the Sun had a dispute as to
which of the two was the stronger; they agreed
that the one should be called stronger who
should first make a man in the road take off
his cloak.
The Wind began to blow great guns, but the
man only drew his cloak closer about him to
keep out the cold. At last the gust was over.
  Then the Sun took his turn. He shone, and
it was warm and bright. The man opened his
cloak, threw it back, and at last took it off, and
lay down in the shade where it was cool.
So the sun carried his point against the Wind.
This fable teaches that it is often easier to
persuade men than it is to force them.

Just one of the short fables. What do you think?
Do you agree with the conclusion?

I am working on the story about Joel Oscar. I plan on posting that one on Feb.12th.
Something to look forward to.
Well, till next time.
Your friend,
Sandy