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Durham, Andrew Everett, 1882-1954

"Epistles from Pap: Letters from the man known as 'The Will Rogers of Indiana'"

In the
conversation I said something about not having seen a Hershey bar
for a long time. I noticed she went down among their luggage and
pretty soon he turned around and offered me a 5 cents Hershey
with almonds. I didn't want to be mooching off them, but they
wouldn't take no for an answer, so I took it, all the time
feeling like a sheep-killing dog. The company has streamlined its
product. When I got the wrapping off the two almonds stuck out
like knobs on some of those red oaks up in the east pasture.
I have also had a letter from Joan. I had sent her the green hide
of Seminole IV, or whatever number he bears, in an open lard can
with part of the hide sticking out the top, and green hide
effluvium oozing out at the bottom. Joan's description of the
pimply-faced delivery boy was vivid. He asked: "What is this
thing anyway?" She replied: "A cow hide, my boy. I make rugs out
of 'em." The carcass of Seminole IV is safely ensconced out in
the lockers awaiting the day when some dentist comes home with a
formula for non-skid false teeth--the ones I have are roller-
bearing--or until some of you pass this way with containers of a
modest cubicle content. . .
I and my two bed sheets were well on the way to some sort of a
record when Footser stepped in.


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