Make Fun Of Life! - Stories & Essays for All Ages of People

I Can Sleep When the Wind Blows

8/21/2018

I Can Sleep When the Wind Blows

The annual county fair was taking place, and farmers from far and near had come to exhibit their harvest and to engage hired hands for the next year. One prosperous farmer came across a husky lad and asked: “What can you do?” The youth answered, “I can sleep when the wind blows.”

With such an answer the farmer turned and started to walk away, perturbed at the impudence of the man. But he turned again and asked, “What did you say?” “I can sleep when the wind blows.”

“Well,” said the farmer, “I don’t know what that means, but I’m going to hire you anyway.”

Winter came, followed by the usual spring, and the new hired hand didn’t show any particular signs of extra work, but filled the duties of his calling as most others would have done.

And then one night in early summer the farmer noticed a strong wind rising. He dashed to the hired hand’s quarters to arouse him to see that all the stock was properly cared for. There he found the hired hand asleep. He was about to awaken him, when he remembered the man’s strange statement.

He went to his barns and there found all his animals in their places, and the doors and windows securely locked. He found the haystack had been crisscrossed with heavy wires, anticipating such a night, and that it would weather the storm.

Then the farmer knew what his hired man meant when he gave as his only qualification, “I can sleep when the wind blows.”

by Reed H. Bradford: as published in “The Instructor” (December 1967)

Hairy Mary

8/12/2018

Hairy Mary

Mary never cut her hair. So her hair grew and grew, on her head, her arms, and her legs. Some people called her Hairy Mary. Mary did not like being called that, and she especially did not like people who called her that behind her back. Mary was so careful about not being friends with people who called her Hairy Mary that some called her Wary Hairy Mary.

Mary owned many cows that she milked to sell to people. There was lots of grass for her cows because Mary lived on the prairie next to the highway, but the pasture where her cows grazed was on the other side of a river. So Mary built a flat boat to carry her cows across the river called the Wary Hairy Mary Prairie Dairy Carry Ferry.

One day, Mary got the idea of using berries to flavor her milk. Soon her Wary Hairy Mary Berry Prairie Dairy Carry Ferry became famous. People always asked her to mix all kinds of different berries together with the milk. But Mary angrily said no, she only sold ordinary berry flavored milk.

Everybody liked her ordinary berry flavored milk, but people thought she was a little scary, and so some people called her Scary Wary Hairy Mary. This made Mary even madder, so sometimes Mary became very contrary and would not give them a ride on her ferry. So they started calling it the Very Contrary Scary Wary Hairy Mary Ordinary Berry Prairie Dairy Carry Ferry.

However, people soon discovered if you asked her very politely in a very gracious way to let you ride across the river, she would always let you ride. Pretty soon everybody learned the Very Contrary Scary Wary Hairy Mary Ordinary Berry Prairie Dairy Carry Ferry Query so they could ride across the river.

by Author Unknown

How the Little Kite Learned to Fly

8/12/2018

How the Little Kite Learned to Fly

“I never can do it,” the little kite said,
     As he looked at the others high over his head;
“I know I should fall if I tried to fly.”
      “Try,” said the big kite; “only try!
Or I fear you never will learn at all.”
     But the little kite said, “I’m afraid I’ll fall.”

The big kite nodded: “Ah well, goodbye;
     I’m off;” and he rose toward the tranquil sky.
Then the little kite’s paper stirred at the sight,
     And trembling he shook himself free for flight.
First whirling and frightened, then braver grown,
     Up, up he rose through the air alone,
Till the big kite looking down could see
     The little one rising steadily.

Then how the little kite thrilled with pride,
     As he sailed with the big kite side by side!
While far below he could see the ground,
     And the boys like small spots moving round.
They rested high in the quiet air,
     And only the birds and the clouds were there.
“Oh, how happy I am!” the little kite cried,
     “And all because I was brave, and tried.”

by Author Unknown

The Library

8/11/2018

The Library

Miss Shaw works at the library. She knows all about books. She knows all about children, too. Miss Shaw has worked at the library a long time. She often tells the children that soon she will have her pension and will rest ‘with their permission.’ Even though they do not understand all Miss Shaw says, the children all love her.

Miss Shaw also knows just what books boys and girls like to read. One day Sharon and Josh came into the library.

“Hello, Miss Shaw,” they said. “We want to read just for fun.”

“Now then,” Miss Shaw said, “Do you want to read about fish, the ocean, machines, ships, nations, some dishes, some slush, the shore, a window shade, some sugar, a shirt, some squash, hash, a good wish - oh, my! I can even find you a book about a girl named Tish.”

“Thank you,” said Sharon. “I think I would like a book about fish.” Miss Shaw went to the bookshelf and gave Sharon a book. The name of the book was “Patricia, The Shiny Fish.”

“Now then, Josh,” said Miss Shaw, “What kind of book would you like?” “I would like a book about a ship.”

Sharon and Josh went home and when they had finished their books, they took them back to the library. “Well,” said Miss Shaw. “Did you finish your books and what were they all about?”

“I finished my book,” said Sharon. “It was fun to read. It was about a shiny fish and her name was Patricia. And it was about other fish, and the ocean, and how Patricia swished when she swam, and how salt comes from the ocean to be put in salt shakers for humans.”

“My book,” said Josh, “was about a ship named Bashful, and pirates and ocean blue and their mission was to collect all the sea shells and let the nations see how beautiful they were.”

“Good,” said Miss Shaw. “I hope you will come back soon.”

Both Sharon and Josh promised they would.

by Author Unknown: as published in “Speech Improvement and Language Development for Level Two” (Broward County Board of Public Instruction, Fort Lauderdale, Florida, 1969), pages 17 and 18

“The Library” story above can be read aloud for practicing and gaining familiarity with the spoken English ‘sh’ sound, and may be helpful for people in general, professional speakers, and persons with speech impediments.

Strictly Germ-Proof

8/4/2018

Strictly Germ-Proof

The Antiseptic Baby and the Prophylactic Pup
     Were playing in the garden when the Bunny gamboled up;
They looked upon the Creature with a loathing undisguised; -
     It wasn’t Disinfected and it wasn’t Sterilized.

They said it was a Microbe and a Hotbed of Disease;
     They steamed it in a vapor of a thousand-odd degrees;
They froze it in a freezer that was cold as Banished Hope
     And washed it in permanganate with carbolated soap.

In sulphurated hydrogen they steeped its wiggly ears;
     They trimmed its frisky whiskers with a pair of hard-boiled shears;
They donned their rubber mittens and they took it by the hand
     And elected it a member of the Fumigated Band.

There’s not a Micrococcus in the garden where they play;
     They bathe in pure iodoform a dozen times a day;
And each imbibes his rations from a Hygienic Cup -
     The Bunny and the Baby and the Prophylactic Pup.

by Arthur Guiterman (1906)

Vocabulary
- Prophylactic: Disease-preventing.
- Permanganate: A salt of permanganic acid.
- Carbolated soap: A salt of carbolic acid.
- Micrococcus: Spherical bacterium, usually found on the skin of mammals.
- Iodoform: Compound of iodine used as an antiseptic.

Arthur Guiterman was born on 20 November 1871 in Vienna, Austria to American parents. He became an American writer and poet, as well as an editor of the “Woman’s Home Companion” and the “Literary Digest.” Arthur Guiterman passed on at 71 years of age on 11 January 1943.

Teddy Bear

7/25/2018

Teddy Bear

A bear, however hard he tries,
     Grows tubby without exercise.
Our Teddy Bear is short and fat,
     Which is not to be wondered at;
He gets what exercise he can
     By falling off the ottoman,
But generally seems to lack
     The energy to clamber back.

Now tubbiness is just the thing
     Which gets a fellow wondering;
And Teddy worried lots about
     The fact that he was rather stout.
He thought: “If only I were thin!
     But how does anyone begin?”
He thought: “It really isn’t fair
     To grudge me exercise and air.”

For many weeks he pressed in vain
     His nose against the window-pane,
And envied those who walked about
     Reducing their unwanted stout.
None of the people he could see
      “Is quite” (he said) “as fat as me!”
Then with a still more moving sigh,
      “I mean” (he said) “as fat as I!”

Now Teddy, as was only right,
     Slept in the ottoman at night,
And with him crowded in as well
     More animals than I can tell;
Not only these, but books and things,
     Such as a kind relation brings -
Old tales of, “Once upon a time,”
     And history retold in rhyme.

One night it happened that he took
     A peep at an old picture-book,
Wherein he came across by chance
     The picture of a King of France
(A stoutish man) and, down below,
     These words: “King Louis So and So,
Nicknamed ‘The Handsome!’ “ There he sat,
     And (think of it) the man was fat!

Our bear rejoiced like anything
     To read about this famous King,
Nicknamed the “Handsome.” Not a doubt
     The man was definitely stout.
Why then, a bear (for all his tub)
     Might yet be named, “The Handsome Cub!”

“Might yet be named.” Or did he mean
     That years ago he “might have been”?
For now he felt a slight misgiving:
      “Is Louis So and So still living?
Fashions in beauty have a way
     Of altering from day to day.
Is ‘Handsome Louis’ with us yet?
     Unfortunately I forget.”

Next morning (nose to window-pane)
     The doubt occurred to him again.
One question hammered in his head:
      “Is he alive or is he dead?”
Thus, nose to pane, he pondered; but
     The lattice window, loosely shut,
Swung open. With one startled “Oh!”
     Our Teddy disappeared below.

There happened to be passing by
     A plump man with a twinkling eye,
Who, seeing Teddy in the street,
     Raised him politely on his feet,
And murmured kindly in his ear
     Soft words of comfort and of cheer:
“Well, well!” “Allow me!” “Not at all.”
      “Tut-tut!” A very nasty fall.”

Our Teddy answered not a word;
     It’s doubtful if he even heard.
Our bear could only look and look:
     The stout man in the picture-book!
That “handsome” King - could this be he,
     This man of adiposity?
“Impossible,” he thought. “But still,
     No harm in asking. Yes, I will!”

“Are you,” he said, “by any chance
     His Majesty the King of France?”
The other answered, “I am that,”
     Bowed stiffly, and removed his hat;
Then said, “Excuse me,” with an air
      “But is it Mr. Edward Bear?”
And Teddy, bending very low,
     Replied politely, “Even so!”

They stood beneath the window there,
     The King and Mr. Edward Bear,
And, handsome, if a trifle fat,
     Talked carelessly of this and that . . .
Then said His Majesty, “Well, well,
     I must get on,” and rang the bell.
“Your bear, I think,” he smiled. “Good-day!”
     And turned, and went upon his way.

A bear, however hard he tries,
     Grows tubby without exercise.
Our Teddy Bear is short and fat,
     Which is not to be wondered at.
But do you think it worries him
     To know that he is far from slim?
No, just the other way about -
     He’s proud of being short and stout.

by A. A. Milne

Alan Alexander Milne, also known as A. A. Milne, was born on 18 January 1882 in Kilburn, London, England. He was a novelist, a playwright, and a poet. He is known as the author of the book about a teddy bear titled, “Winnie the Pooh” (1926). Alan Alexander Milne passed on at 74 years of age on 31 January 1956 in Hartfield, Sussex, England.

The Pumpkin Pirates

4/11/2018

The Pumpkin Pirates

Once upon a time, Lucian the Greek was filled with a desire to see strange countries, and especially to discover whether there was any opposite shore to the ocean by which he lived.

So having purchased a vessel, he strengthened it for a voyage that he knew would no doubt be long and stormy. Then he chose fifty stout young fellows having the same love of adventure as himself, and next he hired the best captain that could be got for money, and put a store of provisions and water onboard.

All this being done, he set sail. For many days he and his companions voyaged on deep waters and in strange seas. At times the wind was fair and gentle, and at others it blew so hard that the sea rose in a terrible manner.

One day there came a violent whirlwind which twisted the ship about, and, lifting it into the air, carried it upward into the sky, until it reached the Moon. There Lucian and his comrades disembarked and visited the inhabitants of Moonland. They took part in a fierce battle between the Moon-folk, the Sun-folk, and an army of Vulture-horsemen; and, after many wonderful adventures, they departed from Moonland, and sailing through the sky, visited the Morning Star. Then the wind dropping, the ship settled once more upon the sea, and they sailed on the water.

One morning the wind began to blow vehemently, and they were driven by storm for days. On the third day they fell in with the Pumpkin Pirates. These were savages who were wont to sally forth from the islands that lay in the seas thereabouts, and plunder them that sailed by.

For ships they had large pumpkins, each being not less than ninety feet in length. These pumpkins they dried and afterward dug out all the inner part of them till they were quit hollow. For masts they had reeds, and for sails, in the place of canvas, pumpkin leaves.

These savages attacked Lucian’s vessels with two ships, or rather, two pumpkins and crews, and wounded many of his company. For stones they used pumpkin seeds, which were about the bigness of a large apple.

Lucian’s company fought for some time, without gaining the advantage, when about noon they saw coming toward them, to the rear of the Pumpkin Pirates, the Nut-Shell Sailors. These two tribes were at war with each other.

As soon as the Pumpkin Pirates saw the others approaching, they left off fighting Lucian’s crew, and prepared to give battle to the Nut-Shell Sailors. When Lucian saw this, he ordered the captain to set all sails, and they departed at full speed. But looking back he could see the Nut-Shell Sailors had the best of the battle, being superior in numbers, having five crews against the two of the Pumpkin Pirates, and also because their ships were stronger. As for their ships, they were the shells of nuts which had been split in half, each measuring fifteen fathoms or thereabouts.

As soon as the Pumpkin Pirates and the Nut-Shell Sailors were out of sight, Lucian set himself to dressing the wounds of his injured companions. And from that time on both Lucian and his crew wore their armor continually, not knowing whether another strange enemy might come upon them.

The End . . . For Now . . . We leave their further adventures to your imagination!

by Alfred J. Church: “A Tale from Lucian” (adapted)

Alfred John Church was born on 29 January 1829 in Richmond, Surrey, England (now Richmond, London, England). He was a scholar of the classics, a translator of Latin works into English, a school headmaster, a professor of Latin, and a re-teller of classics such as “Homer” into versions for children. Alfred John Church passed on at 83 years of age on 27 April 1912 in Richmond, Surrey, England. His online memorial can be visited by clicking on Alfred John Church.

A Household Pet

3/18/2018

A Household Pet

He was named “Bushy” on account of his tail; no Squirrel, I am sure, ever had a finer one. He lived in a cage at first, but the door was always left open, so that Bushy did not feel he was a captive at all. He took great pleasure in running up the lace curtains of the drawing-room windows, upon the cornices of which he spent a great deal of his time, always taking his nuts up there to eat. At length he concluded to give up his cage and live up there altogether. He would build a nest, but where to find the twigs, wool, and feathers for it sorely puzzled Mr. Squirrel.

One day he scampered up to the top of the house, and in the attic found some cast-off finery of the housemaid. It was hard work for the little fellow to carry a night-cap, or an old pocket handkerchief, or an old stocking in his mouth down two sets of stairs, but it was the best material he could find, and Bushy was determined to build a nest. As well as he could, he jumped from one step to another all the way, with his mouth full, at one time a yard or more of ribbon streaming behind him. In this his feet got entangled, tumbling him over and over, so he stopped and with his fore-paws neatly packed it into his mouth before going further. Sometimes, after all his hard work, Bushy would find the dining-room door closed, so he would have to sit outside very patiently till it was opened. The moment he was admitted, up the curtain he would climb with his material, often dropping it two or three times before reaching the top. It was a very wide, old-fashioned cornice, with a great space behind, and here the nest was built. The old caps, ribbons, and odds and ends were woven into a very large, long-shaped nest, lined with bits of the dining-room door-mat on which he had been so often compelled to wait. At last all was finished, and Bushy moved up into his new house, never again sleeping in his cage. During the day he would descend for his food, which he carried up to his house to eat, then down again to frisk and play about. I am sure Bushy’s master was very glad he left the cage door open, for how could the little fellow have shown such intelligence, or been happy, cooped up behind wires all day long?

by Author Unknown: as published in “Birds and All Nature,” (August 1898), Volume IV, Number 2

The Tale of Peter Rabbit

3/4/2018

The Tale of Peter Rabbit

Once upon a time there were four little Rabbits, and their names were - Flopsy, Mopsy, Cotton-Tail, and Peter. They lived with their Mother in a sandbank, underneath the root of a very big fir-tree.

“Now, my dears,” said old Mrs. Rabbit, one morning, “you may go into the fields or down the lane, but don’t go into Mr. McGregor’s garden: your Father had an accident there; he was put in a pie by Mrs. McGregor.”

“Now run along, and don’t get into mischief. I am going out.”

Then old Mrs. Rabbit took a basket and her umbrella and went through the wood to the baker’s. She bought a loaf of brown bread and five currant buns.

Flopsy, Mopsy, and Cotton-tail, who were good little bunnies, went down the lane to gather blackberries.

But Peter, who was very naughty, ran straight away to Mr. McGregor’s garden, and squeezed under the gate!

First he ate some lettuces and some French beans, and then he ate some radishes; and then, feeling rather sick, he went to look for some parsley.

But round the end of a cucumber frame, whom should he meet but Mr. McGregor!

Mr. McGregor was on his hands and knees planting out young cabbages, but he jumped up and ran after Peter, waving a rake and calling out, “Stop, thief!”

Peter was most dreadfully frightened; he rushed all over the garden, for he had forgotten the way back to the gate. He lost one of his shoes among the cabbages, and the other shoe amongst the potatoes.

After losing them, he ran on four legs and went faster, so that I think he might have got away altogether if he had not unfortunately run into a gooseberry net, and got caught by the large buttons on his jacket. It was a blue jacket with brass buttons, quite new.

Peter gave himself up for lost, and shed big tears; but his sobs were overheard by some friendly sparrows, who flew to him in great excitement, and implored him to exert himself.

Mr. McGregor came up with a sieve, which he intended to pop upon the top of Peter, but Peter wriggled out just in time, leaving his jacket behind him; and rushed into the tool-shed, and jumped into a can. It would have been a beautiful thing to hide in, if it had not had so much water in it.

Mr. McGregor was quite sure that Peter was somewhere in the tool-shed, perhaps hidden underneath a flower-pot. He began to turn them over carefully, looking under each.

Presently Peter sneezed – “Kerty-schoo!” Mr. McGregor was after him in no time, and tried to put his foot upon Peter, who jumped out of a window, upsetting three plants. The window was too small for Mr. McGregor, and he was tired of running after Peter. He went back to his work.

Peter sat down to rest; he was out of breath and trembling with fright, and he had not the least idea which way to go. Also he was very damp with sitting in that can.

After a time he began to wander about, going lippity-lippity - not very fast, and looking all around.

He found a door in a wall; but it was locked, and there was no room for a fat little rabbit to squeeze underneath.

An old mouse was running in and out over the stone doorstep, carrying peas and beans to her family in the wood. Peter asked her the way to the gate, but she had such a large pea in her mouth that she could not answer. She only shook her head at him. Peter began to cry.

Then he tried to find his way straight across the garden, but he became more and more puzzled. Presently, he came to a pond where Mr. McGregor filled his water-cans. A white cat was staring at some goldfish; she sat very, very still, but now and then the tip of her tail twitched as if it were alive. Peter thought it best to go away without speaking to her; he had heard about cats from his cousin, little Benjamin Bunny.

He went back toward the tool-shed, but suddenly, quite close to him, he heard the noise of a hoe - scr-r-ritch, scratch, scratch, scratch. Peter scuttered underneath the bushes. But, presently, as nothing happened, he came out, and climbed upon a wheelbarrow, and peeped over. The first thing he saw was Mr. McGregor hoeing onions. His back was turned toward Peter, and beyond him was the gate!

Peter got down very quietly off the wheelbarrow, and started running as fast as he could go, along a straight walk behind some black-currant bushes.

Mr. McGregor caught sight of him at the corner, but Peter did not care. He slipped underneath the gate, and was safe at last in the wood outside the garden.

Mr. McGregor hung up the little jacket and the shoes for a scarecrow to frighten the blackbirds.

Peter never stopped running or looked behind him till he got home to the big fir-tree.

He was so tired that he flopped down upon the nice soft sand on the floor of the rabbit-hole, and shut his eyes.

His mother was busy cooking; she wondered what he had done with his clothes. It was the second little jacket and pair of shoes that Peter had lost in a fortnight!

I am sorry to say that Peter was not very well during the evening.

His mother put him to bed, and made some camomile tea; and she gave a dose of it to Peter!

“One table-spoonful to be taken at bed-time.”

But Flopsy, Mopsy, and Cotton-tail had bread and milk and blackberries for supper.

by Beatrix Potter: as published in Hamilton Wright Mabie, Edward Everett Hale, and William Byron Forbush, editors: “Childhood’s Favorites and Fairy Stories: The Young Folks Treasury” (1927)

Helen Beatrix Potter was born on 28 July 1866 in Kensington, London, England. She was a writer, an illustrator, a natural scientist, a farmer, and a conservationist. She is known for her 30 books, including 23 children’s storybooks that feature animals, such as “The Tale of Peter Rabbit,” which celebrates country life. Helen Beatrix Potter passed on at 77 years of age on 22 December 1943 in Near Sawrey, Lancashire, England. The Helen Beatrix Potter online memorial is at https://goo.gl/jnEVFF.

A Serious Question

12/23/2017

A Serious Question

A kitten went a-walking
     One morning in July,
And idly fell a-talking
     With a great big butterfly.

The kitten’s tone was airy,
     The butterfly would scoff;
When there came along a fairy
     Who whisked his wings right off.

And then - for it is written
     Fairies can do such things -
Upon the startled kitten
     She stuck the yellow wings.

The kitten felt a quiver,
     She rose into the air,
Then flew down to the river
     To view her image there.

With fear her heart was smitten,
     And she began to cry,
“Am I a butter-kitten?
     Or just a kitten-fly?”

-Carolyn Wells

Carolyn Wells Houghton was born on 18 June 1862 in Rahway, New Jersey, United States of America. She supplemented her formal education with an early-formed habit of her love of reading. After completing her schooling, she worked as a librarian for the Rahway Library Association for some years. Her love of puzzles led to her first book, “At the Sign of the Sphinx” (1896), a collection of charades. She followed with “The Jingle Book” (1899); “The Story of Betty” (1899), first of a series of novels for girls; and “Idle Idyls” (1900), a book of verse for adults. She was married to Hadwin Houghton (1855 - 1919). Her autobiography, “The Rest of My Life,” appeared in 1937. Carolyn Wells Houghton passed on at 79 years of age on 26 March 1942 in New York City, New York, United States of America. The Carolyn Wells online memorial is at https://goo.gl/wytDvW.

A Definition of Man

12/2/2017

A Definition of Man

Man is a self-balancing, 28-jointed adapter-base biped, and electro-chemical reduction plant, integral with the segregated stowages of special energy extracts in storage batteries, for subsequent activation of thousands of hydraulic and pneumatic pumps, with motors attached; 62,000 miles of capillaries, millions of warning signal, railroad and conveyor systems, crushers and cranes, and a universally distributed telephone system needing no service for seventy years if well managed, the whole extraordinary complex mechanism guided with exquisite precision from a turret in which are located telescopic and microscopic self-registering and recording range-finders, a spectroscope, etc. . . . the turret control being closely allied with an air-conditioning intake and exhaust, and a main fuel intake.

by R. Buckminster Fuller

Richard Buckminster ‘Bucky’ Fuller was born in 1895. He was an American architect, a designer, an inventor, a philosopher, a futurist, a writer of more than 30 books, and a poet. He popularized the geodesic dome. The carbon molecules known as ‘fullerenes’ were named by scientists in his honor for their resemblance to geodesic spheres. Richard Buckminster ‘Bucky’ Fuller passed on in 1983.

That's What You Call Nature's Wonders

11/3/2017

That’s What You Call Nature’s Wonders

The following is a conversation between two mountain men wandering around the coastal forests of Oregon, United States of America in the 1850’s.

The queerest thing he told me was about an animal I had never heard of, that he called a “camelopard.” (He was reminded of it by a piece of driftwood that looked like a piece of driftwood.)

“That’s a beast that lives in Africa,” he said, “and it’s the funniest thing you ever saw.”

“You never been in Africa, Thomas, why do you keep on talking about Africa?”

“If you ain’t interested in learning about things, just say so. I saw this in a book in Saint Louis. You want to hear about it or no?”

“I expect I’m going to.”

“This here beast has got spots like a leopard, and a body like a camel and legs about eight feet long and a neck about ten feet long like a snake, only it’s stiff. They can’t bend it.”

“That ain’t possible, Thomas. Allow a couple feet for the body and that makes him twenty feet tall.”

He nodded firmly. “That’s it. I saw a picture of it. Twenty feet, I guess the big ones are maybe thirty feet or better up there. And that’s ain’t the funniest neither. Them beasts don’t sleep, because they can’t bend their legs to sit down or nothing. Everything’s stiff on ’em. They just wander around all the time. How do you like that?”

“You’re making it all up, Thomas. You do that all the time.”

“And they got horns on them, just little bitty horns. It was a English book,” he added, just to clinch the argument. “They made it in England, with pictures and everything.”

“Well, if they can’t sit down, and their neck’s so stiff, just tell me how they get something to eat. Tell me that, will you, Thomas? What do they eat?”

“Maybe they don’t eat, neither. Maybe that’s the only animal in the world that don’t eat, you ever think of that?”

That was so unreasonable even he could see. “Everything eats,” I told him, sure of my ground. “You eat, I eat, and your weird African beasts eat.”

He thought it over for a long time, and I could see I had him worried.

“I remember,” he said finally. “They eat each other’s heads, I remember now.”

“Thomas, listen, where do you get such stupid ideas?”

“That ain’t stupid, Ben, that’s logic. That’s all there is to eat way up there, is their own heads. That’s what they got them little horns for, to protect themselves from each other. Otherwise, they’d all die from having their heads eat off.”

“Well, I’ll tell you if somebody was trying to eat my head off, I’d want a big pair of horns.”

“Sure, but if they could protect themselves too good, then they’d all starve to death. It works out just right. That’s what you call nature’s wonders.”

-Don Berry: “To Build a Ship” (1963), pages 66 and 67

The World

11/3/2017

The World

“The world is wet,” said the little frog;
     “What isn’t water is mostly bog.”
“Oh, not at all!” said the little fly;
      “It’s full of spiders, and very dry!”
“The world is dark,” said the moth polite,
      “With ruddy windows and bows of light.”
“My poor young friend, you have much to learn:
     The world is green,” said the swaying fern.
“O listen to me,” sang the little lark:
      “It’s wet and dry, and it’s green and dark.
To think that’s all would be very wrong;
     It’s arched with blue, and it’s filled with song.”

-Author Unknown: as published in Hamilton Wright Mabie, Edward Everett Hale, and William Byron Forbush, editors: “Childhood’s Favorites and Fairy Stories: The Young Folks Treasury” (1927)

The Story of Larry & His Flying Lawn Chair

10/2/2017

The Story of Larry and His Flying Lawn Chair

What follows is the story of Larry Walters of Los Angeles, California, United States of America. He was the original flying lawn-chair pilot. Many have followed, but none have done it as well.

Larry’s boyhood dream was to fly. When he graduated from high school, he joined the Air Force in hopes of becoming a pilot. Unfortunately, poor eyesight disqualified him. When he was finally discharged, he had to satisfy himself with watching jets fly over his backyard.

One day, Larry, had a bright idea. He went to the local Army-Navy surplus store and purchased 45 weather balloons and several tanks of helium. The weather balloons, when fully inflated, would measure more than four feet across.

Back home, Larry securely strapped the balloons to his sturdy lawn chair. He anchored the chair to the bumper of his jeep and inflated the balloons with the helium. He climbed on for a test while it was still only a few feet above the ground.

Satisfied it would work, Larry packed several sandwiches and canned beverages, loaded his pellet gun - figuring he could pop a few balloons when it was time to descend - and went back to the floating lawn chair. He tied himself in along with his pellet gun and provisions. Larry’s plan was to lazily float up to a height of about 30 feet above his back yard after severing the anchor and in a few hours come back down.

Larry’s plan did not quite work out the way he had intended.

When he cut the cord anchoring the lawn chair to his jeep, he didn’t float lazily up to 30 or so feet. Instead, he streaked into the sky as if shot from a cannon.

He didn’t level off at 30 feet, nor did he level off at 100 feet. After climbing and climbing, he leveled off at 11,000 feet. At that height, he could not risk shooting any of the balloons, or he unbalance the load and find himself in trouble. So he stayed there, drifting, cold and frightened, for more than 14 hours.

Then he got into real trouble. He found himself drifting into the primary approach corridor of Los Angeles International Airport (LAX).

A United Airlines pilot first spotted Larry. He radioed the tower and described passing a guy in a lawn chair with a gun. Radar confirmed the existence of an object floating 11,000 feet above the airport.

LAX emergency procedures swung into full alert and a helicopter was dispatched to investigate.

LAX is right on the ocean. Night was falling and the offshore breeze began to flow. It carried Larry out to sea, with the helicopter in hot pursuit.

Several miles out, the helicopter caught up with Larry. Once the crew determined that Larry was not dangerous, they attempted to close in for a rescue, but the draft from the blades would push Larry away whenever they neared.

Finally, the helicopter ascended to a position several hundred feet above Larry and lowered a rescue line. Larry snagged the line and was hauled back to shore. The difficult maneuver was flawlessly executed by the helicopter crew.

As soon as Larry was back on Earth, he was arrested by waiting members of the Los Angeles Police Department for violating LAX airspace.

As he was led away in handcuffs, a reporter dispatched to cover the daring rescue asked why he had done it. Larry stopped, turned, and replied nonchalantly, “A man can’t just sit around.”

Lawrence Richard ‘Larry’ Walters was born on 19 April 1949 in Los Angeles, California, United States of America. He was an American truck driver who took flight on 2 July 1982 in a homemade airship called “Inspiration 1.” Lawrence Richard ‘Larry’ Walters passed on at 44 years of age on 6 October 1993 in Angeles National Forest, California, United States of America. The Larry Walters online memorial is at https://goo.gl/h3Hi6B.

You may not be like Larry, but there is still time for you to make your hopes and dreams come true if you take some actions right now.

Instrument Flying Guide for Animal Lovers

9/29/2017

Instrument Flying Guide for Animal Lovers

Having detailed the concept of attitude control, there is another method which you may prefer. For reasons that will become apparent, it is recommended for those pilots that have large, easily cleaned cabins. Known as the ‘Cat and Duck Method’ of instrument flight, it has received much publicity and is considered to have a great deal of merit by those who have not tried it. No reports have been received from those who did try it, and none are expected. Pilots are invited to assess its merits objectively.

Basic rules for the C & D Method of instrument flight are fairly well known and are extremely simple. Here’s how it’s done:

1. Place a live cat on the cockpit floor, because a cat always remains upright. It can be used in lieu of a needle and ball. Merely watch to see which way the cat leans to determine if a wing is low, and if so, which one.

2. The duck is used for instrument approach and landing. Because of the fact that any sensible duck will refuse to fly under instrument conditions, it is only necessary to hurl your duck out of the plane and follow it to the ground.

There are some limitations to the Cat and Duck Method, but by rigidly adhering to the following checklist, a degree of success will be achieved that will surely startle you, your passengers, and even an occasional tower operator.

1. Get a wide-awake cat. Most cats do not want to stand up at all. It may be necessary to carry a large dog in the cockpit to keep the cat at attention.

2. Make sure your cat is clean. Dirty cats will spend all their time washing. Trying to follow a washing cat usually results in a tight snap roll followed by an inverted spin.

3. Use old cats only. Young cats have nine lives but old, used-up cats with only one life left have just as much to lose as you do and will be more dependable.

4. Beware of cowardly ducks. If the duck discovers that you are using the cat to stay upright, it will refuse to leave without the cat. Ducks are no better in IFR conditions than you are.

5. Be sure the duck has good eyesight. Nearsighted ducks sometimes fail to realize that they are on the gauges and go flogging off in the nearest hill. Very nearsighted ducks will not realize that they have been thrown out and will descend to the ground in a sitting position. This maneuver is difficult to follow in an airplane.

6. Use land-loving ducks. It is very discouraging to break out and find yourself on final for a rice paddy, particularly if there are duck hunters around. Duck hunters suffer from temporary insanity while sitting in freezing weather in the blinds and will shoot at anything that flies.

7. Choose your duck carefully. It is easy to confuse ducks with geese because many water birds look alike. While they are very competent instrument flyers, geese seldom want to go in the same direction as you.

Just a thought: Perhaps a bird in a cage, hung from the cockpit ceiling, will help to keep the cat in the right presence of mind.

-Author Unknown: as published in “GSP Digest” (16 September 1990), Number 279

Cinderella

9/3/2017

Cinderella: Part 1

Once upon a time there lived a maiden named Cinderella.

Her mother was dead, and she had to work very, very hard in the kitchen.

She had two older sisters, but they were cross to little Cinderella.

They made her stay among the pots and the kettles and do all the hard work about the house.

Sometimes, to keep warm, she crept in among the cinders.

That is why she was called Cinderella.

One day the sisters came dancing into the house. “We have been invited to the king’s ball,” they cried.

At length the day of the great ball came, and the two sisters rode away in their fine silk dresses.

Poor Cinderella, who had to stay behind, looked at her old ragged clothes, and burst into tears.

“Alas,” she cried, “why should I always have to stay in the kitchen while my sisters dress in silks and satins?”

Hardly had she spoken when there stood before her a dear little old lady with a golden wand in her hand.

“My child,” she cried, “I am your fairy godmother, and you shall go to the ball, too.

First go into the garden, Cinderella, and bring to me the largest pumpkin you can find.”

When Cinderella had done this, the fairy waved her golden wand over the yellow pumpkin.

In a flash, it was not a pumpkin at all, but a beautiful yellow coach.

“Now bring me four white mice, two large ones and two small ones.”

In a moment Cinderella brought a trap full of mice into the room.

The fairy waved her golden wand, and the two largest mice were turned into two snow-white horses.

Two small mice became two men, one a coachman, the other a footman.

“But how am I to go in these clothes?” said Cinderella.

“Ah, let me see,” said the fairy, and she slowly waved her wand over the maiden’s head.

Oh, what a change!

The rags tumbled to the floor.

And, what do you think! in their place was a beautiful pink silk dress.

The ugly shoes fell off.

And, lo! a tiny pair of glass slippers were on Cinderella’s little feet.

“Now listen to what I say,” said the fairy godmother. “You must not stay after the clock strikes twelve.

At that time your coach will again be a pumpkin, the men will be mice, and you will have on your old ragged dress.”

Cinderella said she would not forget.

Then she jumped into the coach, and away she drove to the king’s ball.

Cinderella: Part 2

The king’s son was charmed with Cinderella.

She was so very beautiful that he would dance with her and with no one else.

Cinderella had such a good time that she forgot about the clock.

It began to strike twelve - one, two, three.

Cinderella ran from the room.

Down the steps of the palace she flew.

She ran so fast that she lost one of her little glass slippers.

The clock finished striking.

Lo! the coach turned into a pumpkin.

The horses and men turned into mice.

Poor Cinderella had to walk home in her ragged clothes.

The next morning the prince found Cinderella’s little glass slipper on the stairs.

“There is only one maiden in all the world who can wear so tiny a slipper,” said the prince. “I will marry her and no other.”

The prince hunted far and wide for a maiden who could put it on. Many tried, but none could do it.

At last he came to the house where Cinderella lived. The two older sisters tried and tried to put the slipper on their large feet.

While the prince was waiting, Cinderella came into the room.

“Let me try it,” she said.

“You!” cried the older sisters. “You could never put it on.”

“Let her try it,” said the prince.

At once the little glass slipper was fitted to the tiny foot.

Then Cinderella stood up; her ragged clothes turned into a beautiful silk dress, and there were two little slippers on her two little feet.

Then the prince knew that Cinderella was the one he had danced with at the ball, and taking her hand, he led her out to his coach.

Soon they were married and lived happily ever after.

-Author Unknown

Memories

8/28/2017

Memories

A little house with three bedrooms and one car on the street,
    A mower that you had to push to make the grass look neat.
In the kitchen on the wall we only had one phone, And no
     need for recording things, someone was always home.
We only had a living room where we would congregate,
    Unless it was at mealtime in the kitchen where we ate.
We had no need for family rooms or extra rooms to dine,
   When meeting as a family those two rooms would work out fine.
We only had one TV set, and channels maybe two, But always
    there was one of them with something worth the view.
For snacks we had potato chips that tasted like a chip,
   And if you wanted flavor there was Lipton’s onion dip.
Store-bought snacks were rare because my mother liked
to cook, And nothing can compare to snacks in Betty Crocker’s book.
The snacks were even healthy with the best ingredients,
     No labels with a hundred things that make not a bit of sense.
Weekends were for family trips or staying home to play,
     We all did things together - even go to church to pray.
When we did our weekend trips depending on the weather,
    No one stayed at home because we liked to be together.
Sometimes we would separate to do things on our own,
But we knew where the others were without our own cell phone.
Then there were the movies with your favorite movie star,
   And nothing can compare to watching movies in your car.
Then there were the picnics at the peak of summer season,
    Pack a lunch and find some trees and never need a reason.
Get a baseball game together with all the friends you know,
     Have real action playing ball - and no game video.
Remember when the doctor used to be the family friend,
     And didn’t need insurance or a lawyer to defend?
The way that he took care of you or what he had to do,
    Because he took an oath and strived to do the best for you.
Remember going to the store and shopping casually, And
   when you went to pay for it you used your own money?
Nothing that you had to swipe or punch in some amount,
   Remember when the cashier person had to really count?
Remember when we breathed the air; it smelled so fresh and clean,
   And chemicals were not used on the grass to keep it green.
The milkman used to go from door to door, And it was just
      a few cents more than going to the store.
There was a time when mailed letters came right to your door,
    Without a lot of junk mail ads sent out by every store.
The mailman knew each house by name and knew where it was sent;
    There were not loads of mail addressed to “present occupant.”
Remember when the words “I do” meant that you really did,
     And not just temporarily ’til someone blows their lid.
T’was no such thing as “no one’s fault; we just made a mistake,”
     There was a time when married life was built on give and take.
There was a time when just one glance was all that it would take,
     And you would know the kind of car, the model and the make.
They didn’t look like turtles trying to squeeze out every mile;
   They were streamlined, white walls, fins, and really had some style.
One time the music that you played whenever you would jive,
      Was from a vinyl, big-holed record called a forty-five.
The record player had a post to keep them all in line,
    And then the records would drop down and play one at a time.
Oh sure, we had our problems then, just like we do today,
    And always we were striving, trying for a better way.
And every year that passed us by brought new and greater things,
    We now can even program phones with music or with rings.
Oh, the simple life we lived still seems like so much fun,
     How can you explain a game, just kick the can and run?
And why would boys put baseball cards between bicycle spokes,
    And for a nickel red machines had little bottled Cokes?
This life seemed so much easier and slower in some ways,
     I love the new technology but I sure miss those days.
So time moves on and so do we, and nothing stays the same,
     But I sure love to reminisce and walk down memory lane.

-Author Unknown

Good Night and Good Morning

8/26/2017

Good Night and Good Morning

A fair little girl sat under a tree,
     Sewing as long as her eyes could see;
Then smoothed her work and folded it right,
     And said, “Dear work, good night, good night!”

Such a number of rooks came over her head,
     Crying “Caw, caw!” on their way to bed.
She said, as she watched their curious flight,
      “Little black things, good night, good night!”

The horses neighed, and the oxen lowed,
     The sheep’s “bleat, bleat!” came over the road;
All seeming to say, with a quiet delight,
      “Good little girl, good night, good night!”

She did not say to the sun, “Good night!”
     Though she saw him there like a ball of light,
For she knew he had God’s time to keep
     All over the world, and never could sleep.

The tall pink foxglove bowed his head;
     The violets curtsied and went to bed;
And good little Lucy tied up her hair,
     And said, on her knees, her favorite prayer.

And while on her pillow she softly lay,
     She knew nothing more till again it was day;
And all things said to the beautiful sun,
      “Good morning, good morning! our work is begun.”

-Lord Houghton

Richard Monckton Milnes, also known as 1st Baron Houghton or Lord Houghton, was born on 19 June 1809 in London, England. He was a poet, a patron of literature, and a politician. Richard Monckton Milnes passed on at 76 years of age on 11 August 1885 in Vichy, France.

The Gloop Maker

8/2/2017

The Gloop Maker

There once was a sailor returning to his ship. Just as he approached the edge of the dock, he slipped and fell into the water between ship and dockside. As he hit the water, the ship began to swing toward the harbor wall, and he would have been crushed to death had not a little man, with great presence of mind, thrown a rope and hauled him to safety.

“Whew, thanks!” said the sailor. “You saved my life. Tell me, is there anything I can do for you in return?”

“Well actually,” said the man, “there is something. I’d really like to work aboard a ship and, in fact, I was just on my way to look for a job when I saw you in the water. If you could, put in a word for me. I’d be greatly obliged.”

“It is as good as done!” said the sailor. He took the little man on board and tracked down the Petty Officer. “This man saved my life just now, and he really would very much like to have a job on the ship.”

“Well, I don’t know,” said the Petty Officer. “We have a full ship’s complement, but I’ll certainly put in a word on his behalf to my superior. What does he do?”

“I’m a Gloop Maker,” said the little man eagerly.

Not wishing to appear ignorant in front of his subordinate, the Petty Officer didn’t want to ask what exactly a Gloop Maker was, so he went to see the Chief Petty Officer.

“This man saved the life of one of my sailors,” he told the Chief. “Do you think we could find him a job aboard? He’s a Gloop Maker.”

Not wishing to appear ignorant in front of his subordinate, the Chief Petty Officer asked the Warrant Officer, who asked the Sub-Lieutenant and so on, all the way through the chain of command until the request reached the Captain. After congratulating the little man, the Captain, not wanting to appear ignorant, named him ship’s Gloop Maker and ordered the Supply Officer to provide whatever materials were necessary for work to commence.

The little man asked for a strong block and tackle fitted up on the afterdeck, a small stool, a hammer and chisel, a portable furnace, a big lump of iron, a few pounds of copper, and several more of silver.

As the ship sailed, the little man set his stool alongside the chunk of iron, lit the furnace, and began to melt down the copper and silver. Then, with much hammering and chiseling, he began to add blobs of copper and curlicues of silver to the sides of the lump of iron.

Each day crewmembers stopped and stared at the wondrously strange thing taking shape at the ship’s stern. But not wishing to appear ignorant, nobody asked the Gloop Maker what he actually was making.

“Coming along nicely,” said the captain as he made his daily rounds. “Any idea precisely when it will be ready?”

“Oh yes,” said the man. “On 15 July at 1400 hours. That’s when it’ll be ready, and I’d like the crew assembled on deck at that hour, if you please, sir.”

And so, the great day came, the men assembled and the Gloop Maker put down his hammer and chisel. Proudly he stood back and indicated that the block and tackle should be lowered onto his masterpiece, with copper and silver curlicues gleaming in the sun. Carefully he directed it to be lifted from the deck and swung round until it hung over the sea at the ship’s stern.

“Ready, steady, go!” he cried, and he cut it free. And, as it fell into the deep blue waters of the Atlantic it went, “Gloop!”

The End - But wait, there are many more stories just below!

The Boy Without a Reference

8/2/2017

The Boy Without a Reference

John was fifteen, and anxious to get a desirable place in the office of a well-known lawyer, who had advertised for a boy. John doubted his success in obtaining this position, because, being a stranger in the city, he had no reference to present.

“I am afraid I will stand a poor chance,” he thought, despondently. “However, I will try to appear as well as I can, and that may help me a little.”

So he was careful to have his dress and person neat, and when he took his turn to be interviewed, went in with his hat in his hand and a smile on his face.

The keen-eyed lawyer glanced him over from head to foot. “Good face,” he thought, “and pleasant ways.” Then he noted the neat suit - but other boys had appeared in new clothes - saw the well-brushed hair, and clean skin. Very well; but there had been others quite as cleanly. Another glance, however, showed the fingernails free from dirt. “Ah, that looks like thoroughness,” thought the lawyer.

Then he asked a few direct, rapid questions, which John answered as directly. “Prompt,” was his mental comment; “can speak up when necessary.”

“Let’s see your writing,” he added aloud.

John took a pen and wrote his name.

“Very well; easy to read, and no flourishes. Now, what references have you?”

The dreadful question at last! John’s face fell. He had begun to feel some hope of success, but this dashed it again.

“I haven’t any,” he said, slowly. “I am almost a stranger in the city.”

“Cannot take a boy without references,” was the brusque reply.

As he spoke, a sudden thought sent a flush to John’s cheek. “I haven’t any reference,” he said, with hesitation; “but here is a letter from Mother which I just received. I wish you would read it.”

The lawyer took it. It was a short letter:

My Dear John,

I want to remind you that wherever you find work, you must consider that work your own. Do not go into it, as some boys do, with the feeling that you will do as little as you can and get something better soon, but make up your mind that you will do as much as possible, and make yourself so necessary to your employer that he will never let you go. You have been a good son to me, and I can truly say that I have never known you to shirk. Be as good in business, and I am sure God will bless your efforts.

“Hmm!” said the lawyer, reading it over the second time. “That’s pretty good advice, John, excellent advice. I rather think I will try you, even without the references.”

John has been with him six years, and last spring was admitted to the bar.

“Do you intend taking that young man into partnership?” asked a friend lately.

“Yes, I do. I could not get along without John; he is my right-hand man!” exclaimed the lawyer, heartily.

And John always says the best reference he ever had was his mother’s good advice and honest praise.

-Author Unknown

Differences Between Margarine and Butter

8/2/2017

Differences Between Margarine and Butter

- Both margarine and butter have the same amount of calories. Butter is slightly higher in saturated fats at 8 grams compared to the 5 grams of saturated fats found in margarine.
- Eating margarine can increase heart disease in women by 53 percent over eating the same amount of butter, according to a Harvard Medical Study.
- Eating butter increases the absorption of many other nutrients in other foods.
- Butter naturally contains many nutritional benefits, whereas margarine has only a few - and only because they are artificially added!
- Butter tastes much better than margarine and can enhance the flavors of other foods.
- Butter has been around for centuries, while margarine has been around for less than 100 years.

Now for Margarine . . .
- Margarine is very high in trans fats, or trans fatty acids, which triples the risk of coronary heart disease.
- Margarine increases total cholesterol and LDL (this is the ‘bad’ cholesterol).
- Margarine lowers HDL cholesterol, (the ‘good’ cholesterol).
- Margarine increases the risk of cancers by up to five fold.
- Margarine decreases immune response.
- Margarine decreases insulin response.

And now the most disturbing fact, the part that is very interesting! Margarine is only one molecule away from being plastic. This fact alone is enough to make some people avoid margarine for life, along with anything else that is hydrogenated, which means that hydrogen has been added and it has changed the molecular structure of the substance. You can try this experiment yourself: Purchase a tub of margarine and leave it in your garage or a shaded area. Within a couple of days, you will notice a couple of things. No flies, not even the pesky fruit flies, will go near it, which should tell you something. Margarine does not rot or smell differently, and because it has no nutritional value, nothing will grow on it - even teeny weeny microorganisms will not a find a home to grow in it. Why? Because it is nearly plastic. Would you melt your plastic food containers and spread that on your toast?

-Author Unknown

Disclaimer: Article is for entertainment purposes only. Claims made in article have not been investigated or verified and might not be accurate.

A New Learning Device

8/1/2017

A New Learning Device

Introducing the new Bio-Optic Organized Knowledge device, trade named BOOK.

BOOK is a revolutionary breakthrough in technology: no wires, no electric circuits, no batteries, nothing to be connected or switched on. It’s so easy to use, even a child can operate it.

Compact and portable, it can be used anywhere - even while sitting in an armchair by the fire - yet it is powerful enough to hold as much information as a CD-ROM disc.

Here’s how it works:

BOOK is constructed of sequentially numbered sheets of paper (recyclable), each capable of holding thousands of bits of information. The pages are locked together with a custom-fit device called a binder, which keeps the sheets in their correct sequence.

Opaque Paper Technology (OPT) allows manufacturers to use both sides of the sheet, doubling the information density and cutting costs. Experts are divided on the prospects for further increases in information density; for now, BOOKs with more information simply use more pages.

Each sheet is scanned optically, registering information directly into the user’s brain. A flick of the finger takes the user to the next sheet. BOOK may be taken up at any time and used merely by opening it.

Unlike other display devices, BOOK never crashes or requires rebooting, and it can even be dropped on the floor or stepped on without damage. However, it can become unusable if immersed in water for a significant period of time. The ‘browse’ feature allows users to move instantly to any sheet and move forward or backward as the user wishes. Many come with an ‘index’ feature, which pinpoints the exact location of selected information for instant retrieval.

An optional ‘BOOKMARK’ accessory allows users to open BOOK to the exact place the user left it in during a previous session - even if the BOOK has been closed. BOOKMARKS fit universal design standards; thus, a single BOOKMARK can be used in BOOKS by various manufacturers. Conversely, numerous BOOKMARKERS can be used in a single BOOK if the user wants to store numerous views at once.

The number is limited only by the number of pages in the BOOK.

You can also make personal notes next to BOOK text entries with an optional programming tool, the Portable Erasable Nib Cryptic Intercommunication Language Stylus (PENCILS).

Portable, durable, and affordable, BOOK is being hailed as a precursor of a new entertainment wave. Also, BOOK’s appeal seems so certain that thousands of content creators have committed to the platform and investors are reportedly flocking.

Look for a flood of new titles soon.

-Author Unknown

The Whango Tree

8/1/2017

The Whango Tree

The woggly bird sat on the whango tree,
     Nooping the rinkum corn,
And graper and graper, alas! grew he,
     And cursed the day he was born.
His crute was clum and his voice was rum,
     As curiously thus sang he,
“Oh, would I’d been rammed and eternally clammed
     Ere I perched on this whango tree.”

Now the whango tree had a bubbly thorn,
     As sharp as a nootie’s bill,
And it stuck in the woggly bird’s umptum lorn
     And weepadge, the smart did thrill.
He fumbled and cursed, but that wasn’t the worst,
     For he couldn’t at all get free,
And he cried, “I am gammed, and injustibly nammed
     On the luggardly whango tree.”

And there he sits still, with no worm in his bill,
     Nor no guggledom in his nest;
He is hungry and bare, and gobliddered with care,
     And his grabbles give him no rest;
He is weary and sore and his tugmut is soar,
     And nothing to nob has he,
As he chirps, “I am blammed and corruptibly jammed,
     In this cuggerdom whango tree.”

-Author Unknown

Why Am I So Tired?

8/1/2017

Why Am I So Tired?

Why am I so tired? For a couple years I’ve been blaming it on lack of sleep, not enough sunshine, too much pressure from my job, earwax build-up, iron deficiency, or anything else I could think of. But now I found out the real reason. I’m tired because I’m overworked. Here’s why. The population of this country is 310 million. 177 million are retired. That leaves 133 million to do the work. There are 85 million in school, which leaves 48 million to do the work. Of this there are 29 million employed by the federal government, leaving 19 million to do the work. 2.8 million are in the armed forces preoccupied with national defense. Which leaves 16.2 million to do the work. Take from the total the 14,800,000 people who work for state and city governments, that leaves 1.4 million to do the work. At any given time there are 188,000 people in hospitals, leaving 1,212,000 to do the work. Now, there are 1,211,998 people in prisons. That leaves just two people to do the work. You and me. And there you are, sitting in your comfy chair at your computer, reading funny stories on www.MakeFunOfLife.net.

-Author Unknown

The Story of Johnny Appleseed

8/1/2017

The Story of Johnny Appleseed

They called me Johnny Appleseed, but my real name was John Chapman.

I was born on 26 September 1774, near Leominster, Massachusetts. I was a pretty smart kid, and learning made a big difference in my life.

When I was 24 or 25, I became a nurseryman. That’s someone who works with plants. I liked apple trees, and I planted them on the western side of New York and Pennsylvania. Some of the big orchards you can see there today started with my trees.

I was always looking for new places. In the early 1800s, I was one of the first to explore the rich, fertile lands south of the Great Lakes and west of the Ohio River when they were opened for settlers. They later called it the Northwest Territory - what became the states of Ohio, Michigan, Indiana, and Illinois. I called this big territory home for almost half a century - that’s 50 years.

The settlers named me Johnny Appleseed. Some called me the Apple Tree Man, because I had lots of apple trees to sell to people so they could start their own orchards.

Here’s how I did it: I went into the wilderness with a bag of apple seeds slung over my back. I’d walk around until I found a good place to plant my trees. Of course, I had to clear the land and chop brush and weeds by hand. Then, I’d plant my seeds in nice, neat rows and build a brush fence around them to keep animals from digging them up or eating them before they got a chance to grow. Some of my nurseries were about an acre or so. Others were quite a bit bigger.

I did it all by myself. I wasn’t too lonely, though, because I had native tribes people for friends and wild animals for companions. I believed God would take care of me, and I lived by the Golden Rule: Always treat others as you want to be treated.

There’s a story they tell about me that you might like: Once, I was caught in a really bad snowstorm and I took refuge in a big, hollow tree that had fallen to the ground. I was surprised to find a mother bear and her cubs already in there! Still, I needed to get out of the snowstorm, so we just shared that tree all night long.

It wasn’t always an easy life, but all I had to do was think about that wilderness filled with the sweet-smelling blossoms of apple trees, and think about how delicious those apples would be to the families who planted them around their log cabins, and I knew it was worth it.

I only charged a few pennies each for my trees, so everyone could afford fresh fruit. Some people had no pennies to spare, so I let them have their trees and told them they could pay me later. Not everybody could, but I had the satisfaction of knowing the trees were growing tall and strong, and that made me happy.

My life wasn’t easy, but I loved it. I carried around a stewpot or kettle with me everywhere I went, and I sometimes wore it as a sort of hat. I didn’t eat meat, so I gathered berries and nuts. Sometimes people would give me milk from their dairy cows and potatoes from their gardens. Those were real treats.

Most of the time, I walked on my journeys, but I sometimes used a canoe or raft to help carry load of seeds and seedlings along the rivers. I’d get those seeds from the cider presses of Pennsylvania, where they used machines to turn apples into a wonderful drink called apple cider.

I never found a wife nor had children, but I had more friends than most people. Their families invited me to dinner at their homes and let me tell stories.

I lived a long, happy life, living in the great outdoors and enjoying the majesty of God’s creations, until He called me home at 70 years of age on 18 March 1845.

I hope you’ve enjoyed reading my story, and that you will remember that one person can make a big, big difference in the world. Just think of how many thousands of people planted my trees or ate my apples!

Ask your friends if they know who Johnny Appleseed is, and see what they say. Find your job, and maybe someday, people will be telling the story of your life!

-Author Unknown

Welcome to the ‘Make Fun Of Life!’ Website. We are here to bring a little happiness to the world. Would you like to be among the first people to see all of the new ‘Stories & Essays’ when they appear here? Click on the social media buttons on the left side of your screen and then ‘follow’ us. We wish you the very best imaginable day, and thanks for visiting!

Do you want a joke, quotation, paragraph, or poem about a particular subject or topic? Go to the search box found at the top right side of this page and type it in. We have a surprising variety of material and we add new stuff regularly, so you just might find what you want.

Further fantastically fascinating frivolity and factuality awaits you on the ‘Make Fun Of Life!’ Website if you will courageously click on any of the colorful page links below.
Activities
Alphabet & Letters
Animals
Author Quotations
Childhood
Christian Faith
Christmas
Correspondence
Essays
Fairy Tales
Fake News
Family
Friendship
Groundhog Day
Holidays
Humorous Memes
In Memory
Inspiration
Learning
Library
Life
Marriage
Nathan’s Creations
Numbers & Counting
Parenting
Picture Quotations
Plants
Quotations
Serious
Serious Poems
Serious Topics
Silly
Silly Poems
Society
Stories with Morals
Thanksgiving Day
Website Information
World