Bear News Beartown News
DECEMBER 1, 2001



The wife of a farmer in the southern part of the state had been married three times. Her maiden name was Wren, her first husband was named Partridge, her second husband Hawk, and the present Quaile. There are two young Hawks, a Partridge, and two Quailes in the family. One grandfather was a Jay and another a Swan, but they are both dead as ducks now. They live on Loon Island in Heron Lake and the author of this is a Lyre and a relative of the family!


A hen laid an egg for 167 consecutive days. There's an old saying in every hen-house that an egg a day keeps the hatchet away.

"I saw a cowslip on the stream bank." said a tourist returning from a walk.
"I hope 'twa'nt one of my cows," said the old farmer. "Did she slip all the way in?"

Harvey Holden always carried pail after pail of water from the century old well, through the orchard and across the calf pen to the kitchen. There the farmer's wife washed for all the family. Lugging water was no easy chore.
"How many years you been carring water?" asked a leaf peeker.
"Goin' on twelve years." responded Harvey, swinging his pails.
"My, my!" said the wealthy leaf peeker, in a commiserating tone: "How much water do you suppose you've carried in that time?"
"I've carried all that's been in the well during that time that isn't there now." said Harvey Holden.



Old George Barton of Crawdad Corners read a newspaper article which he thought would be of interest to a friend.
"I observe by dis papah," said George, "dat de smallest cows in de world is to be found in de South Seas. Dis papah says dat de average weight of sich a cow does not exceed one hundred an' fifty pounds."
"Doe yo' suppose," asked the listener, "dat dat's where dey gits condensed milk from?"

"Say, Sam!" hollered a friend from across the road. "There's a feller down at the junction store that swears he's gonna whip you soon as he sees you."
"Sorry to disapp'int 'em, Bart," responded Sam Bump from Possum Pasture, "but I've just got word that Hank Water's gonna shoot me the next time he gets a chance. I'd like to accommodate this other feller, but if you see him you tell him I've got to give Hank first chance."

A sleek new sports car swerved, collided with a telephone pole, and turned over with its driver trapped underneath.
"'Tain't no use tryin' to hide under ther, young feller!" roared the Sheriff of Catfish County as he rushed toward the wrecked car. "I know where you are!"

A General Store

Let's open the door of the general store
And feast our eyes on sights galore
The cracker barrel, the wheels of cheese,
Men with a checkerboard on their knees,
Bolts of calico, ribbons and lace,
Oh, what a charmingn friendly place.

The coffee grinder painted red,
Lard in a bucket, lamps overhead,
Pats of butter, rice in a bin,
Delicious syrup in squares of tin,
Slabs of bacon, ladders and hoes,
Rakes and shovels standing in rows.

Fragrant loaves of homemade bread
Parading next to a case of thread.
See the ropes and shining pails,
The little round barrels filled with nails,
And the candy counter, ah, what bliss,
There you can find a taffy kiss,

Or squares of molasses honeycomb
To relish all the way back home.
Licorice whips and maple cigars,
Peppermint sticks in bright glass jars,
Lemon drops and chocolate creams,
The answer to a childhood's fondest dreams.

Bananas yellow from tropic isle,
Long black stockings made of lisle,
Shirts and overalls, firm and strong,
Oh, how endless is my song!
Isn't it fun to open the door
And take a trip through the gereral store?



Copyright 2000 Claude Dern, All Rights Reserved
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