But better still, is to wait until this War is
over and go into politics for the farmer, teeth and toe nail--for
which I am also too old to do the very best job.
"Pap"
CONTROLLING SQUIRRELS IS TOUGH ON THE ROOF
June 28, 1945
Dear Frank:
. . . We had a lot of corn in the crib at Ernest's place over in
Montgomery County. The squirrels were eating it at a fearful
rate. I expect they ate about 50 bushels of corn. The whole top
of the corn in the cribs were solid cobs. I didn't know squirrels
could do so much eating. Ira had been telling me about it . . .
Anyway, we went over one day to bring a couple of loads back to
the home farm. When we got there, there were four squirrels in
the crib that we counted. They went out the back end like flying
squirrels. I had the gun along. The crib had a galvanized roof.
One squirrel got right up in the apex of the roof . . . I let him
have it. The shot splattered more than I had thought it would, so
the roof is like a sieve. Another squirrel was on the "plate"
just below the tin roof, outside the crib proper. So I let him
have it, and that punched about 50 holes in the tin roof outside
the crib. That was darned poor judgment, but the sight of those
cobs had made me see red.
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