- Good evening, and thank you all for coming out tonight to the Monroe County Public Library's presentation
- of Wintertelling, funded by the Friends of the Library. I'd like at this point to ask everybody to turn
- their cell phones to silent or off, if you would please, and remind you that we will have refreshments
- in the atrium after the performances. And without further ado, I'd like to introduce you to Patty Callison
- from the Bloomington Storytellers Guild.
- Well, welcome everybody to this our annual gathering of stories. It was just saying goodbye, wasn't it?
- We're very pleased to have a lovely turnout tonight to listen to a variety of stories. Bloomington
- Storytellers Guild has been telling stories in the community since the mid-70s. And so we're, you know,
- we ourselves love stories and we love to share them with you all. The stories of lives past,
- folk tales, legends based on real people, original stories, and just the stories of our lives in general.
- So we welcome you and hope that you enjoy this evening of Wintertelling. Good evening.
- My name is Lisa Ciampelli, and I'm a member of the Bloomington Storytellers Guild. And the story that
- I have to share this evening is a folktale from the American Southwest about a farmer, which may make
- the story more suited to a spring telling than a winter telling. But the story also considers the types
- of strife or trials that we may be willing to or feel capable of enduring at any time during the year.
- But what got me thinking about this story and wanting to tell it tonight was how fortunate I have felt
- recently to have very good people in my life, my colleagues, my friends and neighbors, and how having
- those people in my life diminishes any trials that I might face. For you see, there was once a farmer
- named Isidro who owned a small plot of land in New Mexico.
- He made his living growing beans and chilies. And every spring, he plowed his fields and prepared the
- ground for planting his precious seeds, which needed to be planted by May 15th. He was very devoted
- to his farming, and he was very devoted to God. His neighbors, in fact, often observed him praying while plowing.
- And later in his life, many people felt that the angels must be helping him with his farm work so that
- he could attend church even during the week and not fall behind in his chores. His friends and his neighbors
- all felt that he was such a good man, so kind and generous, so devout, that he was destined to become
- a saint. And in fact, he did. After his death, May 15th was declared
- the feast day of San Isidro, the patron saint of farmers. There was one year that the spring rains did
- not come and Isidro's ground grew especially dry and thirsty and he worried that he would not have time,
- he would not be able to plant his seeds in the ground and he would have no crop for the year.
- When May 15th dawned again, bright and sunny, a blistering hot sun blazing across the sky, he felt that
- he could not wait any longer. He had to do whatever he could do to get those seeds into the ground so
- that he would have a crop for the year. So even though it was a Sunday, a day of rest and devotion,
- he hitched up his ox to the plow and set out for the fields.
- He'd been working in the fields for about an hour when he stopped to take a cool drink of water and
- an angel appeared to him. Isidro, what are you doing? Why are you working on this Sunday? God is very
- displeased to see you laboring on what should be a day of rest and devotion. You must stop your labors.
- Isidro paused and he said,
- Well, I am very pleased to know that God pays attention to what I do. But I must get my seeds in the
- ground today. So I ask that God understand why I must work this Sunday. And please, let me continue
- with my plowing.
- Angel said, oh, I'm sorry, but God does not understand. If you do not cease your labors, then God will
- send a wind or a rainstorm, possibly, to destroy your crops. And then what will you do? I will just
- have to deal with it if that occurs, said Isidro. All I know is that I must continue working in order
- to get my seeds into the ground, or I will not have any crops this year. Now please, leave me be and
- let me go on with my plowing.
- And so the angel disappeared, and Isidro continued. And he worked for about another hour when a second
- angel appeared to him and said again to Isidro, Isidro, God is very displeased to see that you are continuing
- to work on this Sunday. This is a day of rest. Why are you continuing to disobey God if you
- Do not put down your plow and rest. There will be consequences." Isidro said, I'm sorry, I am not able
- to put down my plow today. I must do what I can to get my seeds into the ground. Please, please ask
- God to try and understand. But the angel said, God does not understand Isidro. If you
- are not able to cease your labors, then a lightning bolt will strike the ground and fire will destroy
- your crops. Enesidro said, there is nothing that I can do about that. All I know is what I can do today
- to try to get these seeds into the ground so that I have crops for the year. Please ask God to understand
- why I must continue with my plowing. So the angel left.
- And Isidro continued plowing his fields. At midday, when the sun was directly overhead, a third angel
- appeared to Isidro. And the third angel said to him, Isidro, twice now, God has asked you to cease your
- labors and honor this Sunday as a day of devotion, and twice you have refused him. You must cease.
- I am here to give you a third and final chance, or there will indeed be consequences. I know, said Isidro,
- I know God will send a plague of locusts to destroy my crops." And the angel said, no, it will be worse
- than that. Worse than a plague of locusts? Well, what could be worse than a plague of locusts? And the
- angel said,
- God will send you a very bad neighbor." And Isidro pulled up the ox and stopped short. Did you say a
- very bad neighbor? Yes, said the angel. God will send you an especially bad neighbor to live on the
- farm right next to you unless you cease your work right now. I see, said Isidro.
- Of course, God is always right, and I should not be laboring on this Sunday. For I could deal
- with rainstorms, foul weather of any kind. I could deal with fire, destroying my crops. I could even
- handle a plague of locusts. But a bad neighbor? Not even a saint can deal with a bad neighbor.
- Nicely done, Lisa, getting us started off with a great folk tale well told. Hello, my name's Stephanie
- Holman, and I am so excited to be a part of Wintertelling once again. Always glad to cozy in and listen
- to stories, my favorite thing. But I've had a story tapping on my shoulder for many a year now, and
- I want to share it with you tonight.
- Perhaps you've heard the legend of Diana of the Dunes. Raise your hand if you've heard a variation of
- the legend of Diana of the Dunes. Ah, Hoosiers, show thyselves. There you are. Well, there are probably
- as many variations of this legend as there are hands in the air, because it is a legend. And one thing
- I know is that legends often are stories that hide deeper truths and often more interesting facts.
- And so I share with you tonight the story of Diana, who was dubbed Diana of the Dunes back in 1916 by
- a newspaper reporter who had heard of her penchant for dashing into the waves of the Lake Michigan nude
- and then running pell-mell to dry off up and down the shores.
- And so the Diana of the Dunes was created. But I know this for sure, that her name was really Alice.
- And I want to tell you about Alice Mabel Gray. She was an environmentalist, a feminist, a sturdy, strong
- woman who had the gumption to become a pioneer
- and live on the dunes, the last frontier in Indiana during that time period, on her own in a shack all
- year round for 10 years. She was quite a gal. And I've learned a lot about her and I want to tell you
- how she got to be on those dunes. Alice Mabel Gray was born in 1881, one of three children born to a
- well-to-do physician.
- And she wanted for nothing. Her life in Chicago was ideal. And she got to go to the University of Chicago
- where she graduated in 1903, Phi Beta Kappa, with honors in Latin, mathematics, grammar. She was extremely
- well accomplished. And then she began her workaday world in the big city. And she was always
- always discontented with the way cities were run. She loathed living in the cities. She didn't understand
- why they wouldn't let her go out onto the lake shore and bathe nude whenever she wanted to right there
- on the shores of Chicago. And so it wasn't until she was 34 years old that she headed out. It was October
- of 1915 when she boarded the South Shore Rail.
- There, in her electric interurban car, she followed the shoreline and in those days she saw nothing
- but wafting, moving, living sand dunes out either side of her car. Of course, there was that time she
- had to avert her eyes as she passed by the U.S. Steel Mill there in Gary, the town that it bore. But
- then she passed further east and disembarked at the Miller Station.
- And there she found exactly what she'd been looking for. It was very uninhabited. There were a few buildings
- and people, but Highway 12 wasn't there yet. So all of the dunes along the shoreline there were inaccessible
- by car. And so she walked off that south shore rail train out towards the lake and turned left and headed
- away from Miller just a little ways looking for her shack where she would squat.
- where she would claim and become a recluse and the hermit she wanted to be. She told people who asked,
- she'd say, I just want to live my own life, a free life. Her favorite poem was by Byron, Solitude, and
- that's what she sought. And the few people who got to meet her when she first arrived described her
- as quiet but not unfriendly.
- They described her as attractive, but not necessarily physically. It was her self-assurance,
- her self-confidence that they fell in love with. And that character of hers is what made her an icon
- that we're still talking about 100 years later. But it also made her a target. Because she hadn't even
- been living on the dunes for a year when in July of 1916,
- The Chicago Examiner sent a reporter to find out more about this nudist who was causing such a sensation
- on the shores. Well, he sought her out, and he found her at her cabin, a little shack that she'd claimed.
- And he got an interview with her, and she told of when she'd first arrived back in October. She said
- that she arrived bearing only a spoon, a knife,
- Two guns, a blanket, and a gunny sack. And when she first arrived, she had nowhere to stay, so the first
- four nights she was there under the stars. But then she found an abandoned rail car and hung out there
- for a while until she found this shack that she claimed. And there she made furniture out of driftwood,
- and so she dubbed her shack the Driftwood. And there she began her life of solitude. How did she eat?
- She gathered berries and other food from the dunes. She fished. And when she needed to, she headed to
- Chesterton for supplies such as salt and bread. And of course, her every two-week visit to the public
- library, where she filled that gunny sack with books and magazines. And she loved her life, she said.
- And yes, she did bathe.
- Twice daily nude in the water. Lots of people did hear, why aren't you writing about them? Yes, she
- did run pell-mell down the shore afterward. That's how she dried off. Yes, she did cut her hair by her
- shadow that cast on the sand because she didn't have a mirror. But what she really wanted to talk about
- with that reporter were the living dunes. The dunes that she had come to help save. There was a movement
- afoot to make a national park there and she wanted to help.
- And as a result of the tiny little bit that he included in his article, she would get to do that. But
- that day when he left and he printed his story in July of 1916, not a week later there were 25 different
- variations in other newspapers and the variations continue to this day about this Diana of the Dunes
- as he dubbed her, although physically she was anything but a goddess. But there she was
- on the shore and so as a result of this article some who were trying to create the National Park heard
- of her and her love of the dunes and thought maybe they could use this story to help get more advertisement
- and so they invited her to come speak and she was good. She was there on the stage at the Art Institute
- of Chicago and she had her own way of sharing the science.
- She talked about the significance of the dunes. She told the people how Lake Michigan is the parent,
- and Chicago is one of its children, and the dunes, another child. And any good parent will take care
- of their children, and any good child will take care of their parent. And if we were to take wrongly
- care of the dunes, it would be sacrilegious, a sin. And people heard this in a different way than they
- heard the science.
- And so she was often asked to speak in Chicago and other places. But there was nothing she liked better
- than to get back to her shack on the shore. And there she lived a very happy, mostly single life there
- on the shores alone for seven years. Let's think about that for a moment. Seven Lake Michigan winters
- in an uninsulated shack, feeding herself
- a pioneer, a truly amazing woman. And she would have continued to be happy, except trouble came her
- way, and his name was Paul Wilson. Oh, she fell hard for Paul Wilson, but nobody else really knew where
- he came from. We know now that he was a ne'er-do-well for Michigan City. He'd had many run-ins with
- the law and had been in jail for burglary,
- But he was a big, strong, handsome man. And she just sort of forgave the fact that he had a violent
- temper. But trouble came when Paul Wilson was invited into her life, into her shack, and took up residence
- at the Driftwood with her. No longer was it a hermitage. Now it was a love nest. And so the reporters
- were back. They'd heard there was a couple now. And then the headline read, Caveman Wins Diana of the Dooms.
- But the trouble came, he was handy and he was good to have around. I mean he was a fisherman too and
- he built the driftwood furniture as well and they would sell it to the summer folk and they lived this
- life together for a little while until the trouble came in the form of a murdered man who had been found
- buried in a shallow grave not far from the shack they shared.
- And so Paul was taken in for questioning, as was Alice, but they were both cleared of the murder. But
- of course, their home had been altered. So they left the Driftwood and moved east to Ogden Dunes and
- claimed another shack, which they dubbed Wren's Nest. But trouble followed them there as well. At Wren's
- Nest, the trouble came in the form of a local sheriff's deputy named Eugene Frank.
- Eugene Frank already had it in for Paul Wilson and his reputation that preceded him. And Eugene Frank
- took his business very seriously of watching over the summer cottages during the winter months. And
- he soon started spreading a rumor about how Alice and Paul were stealing from the cabins that he was
- in charge of. Well, they, knowing this was a lie, went to the deputy and confronted him
- and some sort of horrible scuffle ensued whereby the deputy pistol-whipped Alice, hit her on the head
- with his gun, fractured her skull. Somehow or other, Paul Wilson ended up with a gunshot to the foot.
- And as they were whisked away to Mercy Hospital in Gary, the deputy was charged with his assault, but
- not convicted. And while they were recuperating in the hospital in Gary,
- Looters ransacked Wren's Nest and stole all of their belongings, including a couple of important manuscripts
- that Alice had been working on about the dunes. But they did recover, and they came back to live again
- for two more years there at Wren's Nest. But things were changing for the squatters along the shorelines.
- Highway 12 was there now.
- And access by automobile meant property values were going up and resentment was going up too. Resentment
- for those who were squatting on property that was belonging to others. But it was Winter and Paul that
- would do Alice in. He was very violent with her and yet she stayed on. And in February 9th of 1925,
- he went running for a doctor
- And he told the doctor it was bad, that he'd wanted to come sooner, but Alice wouldn't let him. But
- now she was unconscious, and that they better hurry, but it was too late. By the time Paul and the doctor
- got back to Wren's Nest, Alice died in Paul's arms. She died of uremic poisoning. Ironically, the same
- arms that she died in were the ones that had caused the wounds that had resulted in the poisoning.
- And so Alice's life came to a tragic, horrific end. And to add insult to injury, she wasn't even buried
- the way she wanted to be. She had wanted her ashes to be sprinkled out on Mount Tom, there at the dunes,
- one of the highest dunes. But her brother and sister, who she hadn't spoken to in a decade, the whole
- decade that she'd lived on the dunes, they'd never, never had any contact. They were in charge of her
- funeral, and they placed her at Oak Hill Cemetery in Gary.
- right there in the middle of the city with that still mill looking over her. And there she is to this
- day. But I would beg you to not remember the tragic ending, to go back and revisit her amazing youth
- and the middle of the story where she decides to leave everything and pursue this pioneer life. And
- when you think of Alice, you'll think about many people
- like her, who helped to establish that national park here in our state of Indiana, there along the dunes.
- It was established in 1917 with help of people like her. And maybe you've been to the dunes. I hope
- my story will make you want to go again. And when you travel down Highway 12 and you see those brown
- signs pointing out different points of interest to the State Park and the National Park, I hope because
- of this story here tonight at Wintertelling, you
- like me will think of Alice and remember her name was Alice. Thank you very much. Thank you, Stephanie.
- I am Ken Ogus, storyteller from Indianapolis. And tonight, I'm going to share with you a story that
- gives a wink to Hiroko Fujita, traditional storyteller of Japan, and a nod to the art of Rakugo storytelling.
- Nearly 70 years ago, a great artist left the big city of Tokyo to the safety of the countryside. There
- was a great war going on. And he came to the Fukushima Prefecture to find a village where he could spend
- time. He found a place he could rent and set up his gallery and show people his wonderful sculptures.
- And oh, the villagers, they came. They came into his house and they looked at all of the things that
- he had carved, why there were birds, there were fish, there were large animals, and they all were uncannily
- lifelike. It seemed as if they could just hop off their pedestals and breathe air and run away. One
- of these days, a little girl,
- who decided to come visit and see for herself what this great artist was like, came in with the other
- villagers and looked at all of the sculptures. Now the artist lectured people, trying to teach them
- about aesthetics and high art. Now, can you see how I've taken this fish and I've carved the fine scales?
- Can you see that? Can you see the gills moving?
- And can you see the horse's mane flying in the wind? And all the villagers nodded. And they were very
- polite and listened very carefully. The little girl walked up to the artist and, what is it,
- little one? What do you want? I have looked around your studio and I do not see a statue of a mouse.
- Well, I don't have a mouse.
- That's right. Well, maybe I should carve one now that I'm here in your village. Tell you what, I will
- carve you the finest mouse. It will look just as if it were alive. What is it now, little one? I can
- carve too, and I like to do art. I'll make a statue as well. Oh, you would make a statue of a mouse
- as well? Shall we have a competition? Ah.
- I look at all the villagers, who could be a judge for us today? The villagers all looked down. No one
- wanted that responsibility. Oh, what is it now, young one? Well, if we're making statues of mice, maybe
- we should have a cat as a judge. Oh, good idea. So you come back three days and we'll let the cat be
- the judge.
- Three days, that artist worked. He took his finest, sharpest knives and the finest grained wood and
- carved and carved until he could see, ah, yes, the little beady eyes of the mouse and fine hairs. Even
- the little tail curled around the body. It was ready. The little girl worked on hers, too, and she brought
- her mouse statue on that third day. And she had an ordinary cloth over hers. Oh, the great artist said,
- no, everybody observe. And he took off a fine silk cover off of his statue. And the people looked, oh,
- why the ears were so thin and fine. Why you could see the sunlight through them. He set the mouse down
- on the floor and waited.
- The little girl came up and she took her ordinary cloth off her statue and she placed it down. And the
- artist took a look and he said, oh my, oh my, it's about the right size for a mouse and I don't know
- what you've made it out of, but I see a little twig for a tail. Very clever. I give you high marks for
- being resourceful. Now we need the judge.
- A farmer brought in a cat, an old farm cat. Set it down in the middle of the floor between the two statues.
- The cat took one look at the little carved statue. Looked at the one the little girl had made. Its eyes
- got big and it grabbed the statue up in its mouth and went running outside with it. Boom!
- Villagers weren't sure what to do. No one said a word. Oh, the judge has decided, I guess.
- You have one, young one. Yes, I have. But I don't know. How did you do it? How did you convince the
- cat that mouse was alive? Well, I know some things about art, but I know a lot about cats.
- So, oh, great artist, I made my statue out of smoked dried fish. Oh, you are very wise for your age.
- Well, as a reward, you may come to my studio any time and I will tell you so much about art. Oh,
- thank you. I will come to your studio and visit with you. And while I'm here,
- I will teach you about cats. Want it up in front? No, I'll just sit on it. I'm over here, that's over there.
- My name's Ginny Ritchie. I've been thinking. I've been thinking that sometimes as we get a little older,
- we get a little grumpy. Some of us get a little feisty, and some of us get a little stubborn. I have
- a story about that. You're not surprised, are you?
- Jimmy and Johnny lived in one of those long, stretched out West Virginia places in between two tall
- hillsides where there's just enough room for the creek and the house and the road and the railroad.
- Johnny worked for the railroad. That is, he worked for the railroad until he got too old to work and
- he went home with a little pension and that suited him just.
- I don't mean he never went back to the station. Oh no, every morning he got up and went back to the
- station just to see if the trains came in on time and also to watch everybody else work. Because there's
- nothing more fun than watching other people work when you yourself don't have to. When sometimes he'd
- go down to the store and he'd laugh and joke and he'd go to pick one thing up, he'd be there all day.
- But if the weather was bad, he didn't have to go out.
- He'd just sit in his rocking chair and doze. After a while, Anna Mae observed that while he was retired,
- that she was not. In fact, she had just as much work to do as she ever had.
- There was all the sweeping and the mopping and the cooking and the cleaning and the laundry and the
- mending and the ironing and it just never seemed to stop. And it began, it began to strike her as unfair.
- And this all came to a head one night when she served the last of a pot of beans.
- This pot of beans had begun weeks before as a Sunday ham. And the Sunday ham had been served in one
- way or another until there was nothing left of it but a bone. And the bone in a sack of beans had been
- put on to soak overnight and then to simmer all the next day. And then they began to have a bowl of
- beans for supper every night. And every night after they'd
- had their bowl, Anna May would put the pot back on the cold part of the stove. And then the next night,
- she would pull it up to the hot part of the stove and get it warm and cook it again. And oh, those beans,
- that reduction of beans, that concentration of beans, they got rich and creamy. And by the time they
- got to the bottom of that pot, they were delicious.
- the inside of the pot. It was covered with rock hard baked on bean crust. And as Anna Mae finished her
- beans, she thought of all the time it was gonna take her to get that pot clean. And just at that moment,
- Johnny pushed his chair back and got ready to go to bed.
- You wait a minute, she said. Wait a minute. She said, tonight, I want you to help me. I want you to
- clean that pot, and I'll do everything else, and we'll go to bed together. Johnny looked at Anna Mae
- as if she had fallen from the moon. It's only fair, she said. You've eaten plenty from that pot. You
- can clean it now.
- Honey, if you wait for me to clean that pot, it'll look just the same in the morning as it does right now."
- And Johnny went off to bed. Well, it will look the same in the morning as it does right now, said Anna
- Mae, because I am not going to wash that pot. And she went off to bed, and she slept pretty well.
- But in the morning, when she woke up, she was lying there thinking the way you do, you know, about all
- the chores she had to do that day, and she thought about supper, and she thought she'd put some potatoes
- on for supper. Oh. The pot. Well, he could get up and wash the pot, couldn't he?
- And she elbowed Johnny awake and informed him of what plans she had for him. And he responded with the
- information for her that he did not do parts. And the conversation got sort of heated. And finally,
- Johnny said, well, he said, I'm not going to get out of this bed until you go wash the pot.
- And she said, I can outlast you. She said, I won't get out of the bed either.
- I won't get out of the bed until you wash the pot. And what's more, I won't even say another word until
- you wash the pot. You think you can outlast me, said Johnny. Honey, he said, I'm not going to move and
- I'm not going to speak. But if I do move or speak before you do, I will get up and wash the pot. But
- when you move and when you start talking, honey, you can just get up and do what you're supposed to do.
- And she crushed her arms and she shut her mouth. And there they lay. The morning stretched on. And after
- a while, the next door neighbor, the one that always keeps an eye on things, she noticed that Johnny
- had not gone down to the station. And it was a fine day.
- And she noticed that Annemay hadn't put her laundry out and it was a washing day. And she knew something
- was wrong. And she better go find out what it was. So she ran next door and she called in the door,
- Annemay, are you in there? Johnny, is everything all right?
- be some terrible trouble in there. And she called her kids and sent them up and down the valley to get
- everybody collected, because she didn't want to go in the house by herself. And so when there was a
- good crowd there, all discussing and anticipating and speculating, well, a group of them went up to
- the door. And they went in the front room. My goodness.
- Last night's dirty dishes were still on the table. This was serious. The fire had gone out in the stove
- and there was that pot. They set the children outside so that they wouldn't be disturbed by whatever
- they found. And then bravely they went into the back room.
- them by the shoulder and shook them. Oh, speak to me. Speak to me, anime. Johnny, Johnny, can't you
- move? Well, you know they must hear us. Look at their eyes rolling back and forth. I believe they've
- been poisoned. Oh, yeah. And it's paralyzed them. Well, said one of the men, if he's paralyzed and he
- isn't going to get out of bed no more, you know what?
- There's a mighty fine watch he's got over here. Anime thought, oh, he'll say something now. But Johnny
- just pressed his lips together and he didn't say a word. And just about that time, one of the ladies,
- she was taking Anime's Sunday hat down. Now this is a sweet little thing, isn't it? You know, it never
- did fit too well on her curls, but look how nice it looks on me.
- Oh, she's going to move now. But Anna Mae just clenched her fists tight and she just lay there. About
- that time, the late comers were still straggling up and everybody heard Brother Edward coming. You could
- always hear Brother Edward coming because he mumbled to himself. Unfortunately,
- He was hard of hearing, and so in order to hear what he was mumbling to himself, he actually spoke in
- quite a loud voice. He came up saying, oh, sad affliction, what a sad affliction has fallen upon this
- house. You also could tell he was coming because of a certain whiff that preceded him. Brother Edward
- believed that if you bathed or washed, you were likely to get pneumonia.
- So he avoided those things and he had been known to clear a room as much quicker than a fox could clear
- a chicken coop. He came in and he went straight to the bedside and he looked at Anna Mae and he looked
- at Johnny and he said, do not be afraid, I'm going to stay with you.
- I'm not going to leave you. I'm going to be here by your side day and night. And he leaned over so that
- his fetid breath wafted across their faces. And he said, I will pray over you until the devil that is
- in you is gone. He's gone, said anime. He's sitting straight up. And Johnny sat up at the exact same
- time and said, he's gone.
- This gave Brother Edward an entirely undeserved reputation for healing. There was a great deal of curiosity
- and a great deal of questions, and Annemay and Johnny didn't want to answer any of those questions.
- They just wanted everybody to leave. And it took quite a while to get them all out of the house.
- But finally, finally, finally the door closed. There was Annemay.
- There was Johnny, and there was the pot. Now they had both moved at exactly the same time. They had
- both spoken at exactly the same time. So who was going to wash the pot? Hmm? Hmm? Well, they both did.
- turned and turned about they scrubbed and scoured that pot clean and I would just like to think that
- after that there were far fewer occasions where somebody was growing
- My name's David Matlack. I'm a storyteller, educator, and veterinarian. And I'm the son of an Irish
- woman. My mother is what they call the Black Irish. She had black hair, very dark eyes. And every summer
- we used to have, I grew up in Richmond, Indiana, every summer we had to go to the coast. Just as soon
- as she was done teaching, we would go to the seashore. And I think I know why.
- Once, there was a man that lived on a tiny spit of land that jutted out into the sea. Now the eastern
- shore, steep craggy cliffs that dropped down to rocky coves below. The western shore, smooth crescent
- beach where men of the village kept their boats, fishermen all. The northern point of land jutted out
- in the sea where the sound and the sea met and the water was boiling and roiling there. He never went
- there. But every evening after fishing, he would go.
- to those cliffs to the east, and sit with the sun setting to his back, staring out over the sound. He
- would watch the moon rise, the stars fall, and he would dream his dreams. Now in Ireland they say the
- east is the past, the west is the future. But this man, he somehow sensed that perhaps his future lay
- in the past.
- And so he would come here every night and dream his dreams. One evening, it was late in spring, the
- rock still holding the warmth of the day's sun, but yet a chill rising off the smooth sound. A full
- moon was rising. He watched as 13 ripples pierced that smooth surface of the sound. Those 13 ripples
- converged on the rocky cove below. And he watched in amazement.
- as thirteen seals slipped out of the water, stood upright, and slipped out of their skins, revealing
- beautiful human beings. They were selkies, half-seals, half-human beings. And they joined hands, and
- with uplifted tongues they sang an ulu-lein to the silvery moonlight.
- Then they danced about the beach, and two by two they went off to the rocks to couple. Save one young
- maiden seal. She busied herself, combing her long black hair, fancied her reflection in the moonlight
- in the tide pools. Well, the man, silently, ever so silently, he snuck down the steep trail of those
- cliffs, hid behind a large rock.
- Just before dawn's first light, the others came back, slipped back into their skins and into the sound.
- Save that one young maiden seal. She could not find her skin. She was frantic, looking to and fro, and
- that man stepped out from behind a rock, holding up her seal skin. Her eyes met his, pleading.
- Then her eyes, her head dropped. He turned around.
- back up that steep trail with her following. For they both knew the legend of the selkie. Whatever mortal
- human being possesses the skin of a selkie, then he too possesses the destiny of that selkie. And he
- took her to his cottage, to his hut, and they made a life together. His dreams had come true.
- It seemed she was a good and loving wife. And in time, she bore him seven children. It seemed she was
- a good and loving wife and mother. Now, on some days, she would take those children into the village,
- into the market there. And the people would see their dark hair, their dark eyes. And they would overhear
- her talking to them in a strange tongue. And they knew she was a selkie. But it seemed she was a good
- and loving wife and mother.
- But now it was she that would go to those cliffs to the east every night, staring out over the sound,
- watching the moon rise, the stars fall, dreaming her dreams. And when she would come back, he would
- kiss her on the cheek. And he would not know if the saltiness he tasted there was from the salty sea
- mists or bitter tears. And he never asked.
- Now one day, it had been a late winter, but it was the first truly warm day of spring. The children
- were up on the roof of that cottage, that hut, playing. It was half sod, half thatching. The oldest
- son, he picked up a piece of that sod, and he saw an object most strange. And he trotted into the cottage,
- holding it up. Mother, what is this?
- When she saw that old, dried seal hide, she let out a shriek of joy so loud that far out at sea, the
- fisherman heard it. There was something about it. It sent a chill up his spine. He knew he had to get
- home. He pulled up his nets. He turned his skiff towards home, began rowing with all his strength. In
- the back of the cottage,
- the Selkie woman. She gathered her seven children around. She gave them supper, sent them to bed early,
- kissed each one on the cheek, telling them, if ever you find me gone, know that I will love you for
- always. Back out at sea, that man, he could see the beach. He was putting all his weight into those
- oars as he approached the surf. He saw a seal head bobbing there. Their eyes met, her soft
- Big eyes blinking, she slipped under the water and was gone. At last, he was on the beach. He ran up
- to his cottage to find his children sleeping. And his wife was gone. And gone for good, he knew. For
- he knew that neither chains of love nor chains of steel can keep a selkie from the sea.
- Thank you. Thank you. Many versions of that. The closing sentence, chains of love nor chains of steel
- can keep a selfie from the sea, is from a beautiful film, The Secret of Roniniche, which the backdrop
- is about life on a
- on an Irish island, but the backdrop is that story about the Selkie. And I haven't checked, but I bet
- the library has it here. And it does on video. Awesome. Thank you. Yeah, it's a beautiful film. And
- thanks to Friends Library. Thanks to the library. Hi.
- I'm Carol Holding. I can still remember the day that dad brought that kitten home. He let us girls have
- the honor of finding a name for our new pet. And oh, what a name we created. We called the cat Robert
- Michael Drake, John Paul Jones, Sappenfield the first.
- Well, what could you expect? We were children, after all, and it was a committee effort. Still, even
- we understood that with a name that long, it would take half the night to call that poor cat home for
- supper. So we shortened it to Bobby. Bobby grew into a glorious cat. He was huge, must have been some
- Maine coon in his pedigree.
- His fur was lush and thick and had beautiful markings. His eyes were the color of antique gold and they
- look straight into your soul. But his most striking feature was his tail, his incredibly long and bushy
- tail. Even Bobby seemed to understand
- that his tail was his best feature. Whenever a stranger came to the house, Bobby would strut across
- the floor like a fashion model, that glorious tail gracefully unfurled over his head. And he wouldn't
- stop the performance until the newcomer said a few words of praise about the wonder that was Bobby's
- tail. It's ironic that it was that lovely tail that nearly cost Bobby his life.
- He went out one summer day and did not return. We searched everywhere calling his name. We asked the
- neighbors. We put up posters. But a full week passed before Bobby finally dragged his poor emaciated
- body up to our back stoop. Oh, he was a sorry sight. His fur was torn and matted. He was skin and bones.
- His eyes were dim.
- But the worst sight of all was that tail, that once glorious tail. It was mangled. The vet said that
- it looked as though Bobby had gotten his tail caught in a rabbit snare, and that it must have taken
- him that entire week to work his way loose. Gangrene had set in, and the doctor was going to have to
- remove the tip of the tail to save the cat's life.
- I remember sitting through that operation. Every so often, the nurse would stick her head into the waiting
- room door and give us an update. It was never good news. In fact, the message was always the same. The
- gangrene has spread further than we expected. The doctor is going to have to take off a little more
- of the tail.
- The gangrene has spread further than expected. The doctor is going to have to take off a little more
- of the tail. The gangrene has spread further. By the time the operation was over, all that was left
- of that exceptionally long and bushy tail was a tiny little one-inch stub. I guess you could say that
- Bobby's physique finally matched his name. Well,
- We were all concerned about how Bobby would react to the loss of his favorite appendage, but we needn't
- have worried about it. As far as Bobby was concerned, nothing had changed. I walked into the living
- room one day and Bobby was performing a sort of pantomime. He would reach back one of his forepaws and
- he would drag it to the front and then he would lick the air above his paw.
- I called mom in and said, what is our cat doing? She watched for a while and she said, well,
- I can't be sure, of course, but I think he's grooming his tail. What tail, mom? She said, well, have
- you never heard of a phantom limb? And sure enough, our cat had a phantom tail. If you were brushing
- him and you failed to brush the entire length of that invisible tail, he would be myth.
- And if you step too close to him, he might yell and rake your ankle with his claws and you couldn't
- even blame him because you had evidently just trod upon his phantom tail. And when strangers came, he
- would still do his strutting model routine and not stop until we convinced some poor confused stranger
- that they need to praise a non-existent tail.
- Well, Bobby may have lost something in his ordeal that summer, but he seemed to have gained something
- as well. My baby sister was the first to notice. She said, Bobby is predicting the weather. And we looked
- and she was right. Bobby would settle down in front of the best radiator in the house four hours before
- the cold front came through. And if Bobby refused to go out on a bright sunny day,
- You could wager money that it would be pelting down rain or sleet or snow by mid-afternoon. And it turned
- out that the weather wasn't the only thing Bobby could predict. One day, Bobby took it in his head to
- keep my father home. Anybody else could come and go as they wanted, but anytime Dad approached the door,
- there would be that huge cat in the door frame blocking his way, teeth bared, claws unsheathed.
- Finally, we all banded together to distract the cat long enough for Dad to sneak out by the back door.
- But at dinner that night, Dad said, well, I wish I had listened to Bobby and stayed home. It was a horrible
- day. And to make matters worse, on the way home, I had a fender bender. There's going to be hundreds
- of dollars of damages there. I wish I'd stayed home.
- It didn't happen very frequently, but every so often, Bobby would take it into his head to keep one
- or the other of us at home. And at first, we always did our best to help his chosen victim escape. And
- the results were always the same. They'd come home that evening and say, I wish I hadn't gone out. Something
- bad would always happen. My sister Sue slipped on the ice and broke her ankle.
- Mother spoke a few ill-chosen words and damaged a lifelong friendship. Well, a few more instances like
- that and we started to pay attention to the cat. If Bobby wanted you to stay home, you stayed home.
- We called it taking a Bobby day. Then came that fateful day when Bobby didn't want any of us.
- to leave the house. No matter who approached the door, there would be Bobby blocking the way. I'm ashamed
- to say that we had a bit of fun teasing the cat. We would head towards different doors at the same time
- and watch the poor beast just run his little paws off trying to block us all. But he needn't have worried.
- We knew enough to pay attention. We all stayed home. We settled in with books or records or knitting,
- whatever struck our fancy.
- Even though we were all home, Bobby was still in a state of high anxiety. The tension was just rolling
- off him. He would pace from room to room and person to person. He would plant himself at your feet,
- look into your eyes, and make this deep burbling sound in his throat that just epitomized worry. Well,
- finally, Mother said, if I'm stuck at home, I might as well get some laundry done.
- So she went down to the cellar with a load and as she was coming back up the basement steps there was
- Bobby blocking her way. She said, Steve, I think you better come see this. Dad came down the stairs
- to join her and now Bobby was blocking both of them. Dad gave the situation some thought and then he
- called up. He said, girls, I want you to get some blankets, some pillows, some snack foods, some drinks, books,
- whatever you need to entertain yourself, and come on down to the cellar. Bobby wants us to spend some
- time in the basement. And that's what we did. We all came down there. We set up a little sort of camp
- underneath the big wooden table that my mother used to fold the laundry on. And we played games and
- read out loud. It was one of the nicest family days I can remember. Cloistered as we were in the basement,
- We didn't notice what was happening outside. We didn't see how dark the sky was growing or notice that
- green tinge to the clouds and we certainly didn't hear the change in tempo of the wind. We did hear
- the siren when it went off and moments later all hell broke loose above us. Our little town with next
- to no warning
- was experiencing the worst tornado of its history. Pretty much any place a family member might have
- chosen to go that day, the church, the school, the library, the grocery store, friend's house, all of
- them reduced to rubble. Our own house was badly damaged, but down there in the cellar under that heavy
- oak table, we came out unscathed. Well, the human members of the family came out unscathed.
- Bobby had never left the staircase. He had stood sentinel there guarding us, and in that exposed position,
- well, the storm just took him away. We clamored out of what was left of our home and began to try to
- help our less fortunate neighbors, all the while keeping one eye open for our precious cat. And we would
- ask people if they'd seen him, but the answer was always no.
- Finally, just before dusk began to fall, a stranger approached us. He said, are you the folks that are
- looking for a big bobtailed cat? We said, yes. He says, I think I found him. He led us two or three
- blocks away to one of the few trees that was still standing. And he pointed up and sure enough dangling
- there amid the branches was our Bobby. The man said, I think I know where I can get an extension ladder.
- I'll bring it and we'll get him down.
- But before the man left, he looked one more time up that tree and he said, you know, I've looked at
- that cat from every angle and I cannot for the life of me figure out what's keeping him up there, why
- he hasn't just plummeted to the earth. Well, after he left, we all looked up at Bobby and then we smiled
- at each other for we understood what had happened. Our brave and resourceful cat had managed to save
- himself. He'd done it.
- by snagging a branch with that exceptionally long and bushy tail. I think she made that up.
- What do you think?
- So hi, I'm Christina Jones, and I'm so glad to see you all here tonight. The story I'm going to tell
- you is called A Pottle of Brains. And pottle was a new word for me, so being a good librarian,
- I looked it up, and I found out that it's Middle English for a smallish pot. Not a cauldron, we're not
- talking a vat, but a very smallish
- Humble pot. So now I'm going to tell you about Jack and his mother. Jack was so pretty. So pretty. He
- had really nice, fine, fair hair. He had sparkly green eyes. And he had the sweetest ears that just
- laid so nicely against his head.
- between those ears was not a lot. Not a lot going on, but he was so pretty and such a good boy that
- his mother, like most, just doted on her son and doted and doted. And as time went on, Jack grew up
- to be a doted on beautiful boy. And his mother worked her fingers to the bone to keep body and soul
- alive in a
- roof over their head and in the meantime Jack would sit there and look pretty and he'd clean the house
- and make sure dinner was made and be there for his mama when she came home. Well time went on and his
- mama was getting tired. She was farming herself out to clean this and that and finally the only person
- that would take her was the blacksmith and she was scrubbing on that anvil all day and just getting
- all sooty and tired and she got home and she was pretty grumpy. Jenny, she was grumpy.
- It was her time. And she threw herself on the chair, and she said, Jack, I'm tired. What you need to
- do is get yourself a bottle of brains and help out around here. Get yourself a bottle of brains, why
- don't you? Yes, ma'am, said Jack. And he sprung up, and he ran out the house. And he started shouting,
- who's got a bottle of brains? I need a bottle of brains. Help, help. My mama needs me to get a bottle
- of brains. Well, everybody took pity on Jack, because he was so pretty.
- And one of them suggested that he go see the henwife. Well, the henwife was a very controversial figure
- in this village. Now, there are half of them that thought she was a wise woman. And half of them thought
- she was a witch. And Jack landed in the latter category. So he approached this henwife with some trepidation.
- He walked up to her cottage, and there she was on the porch with all her hens all over the place.
- He said, hello, henwife.
- Nice day, huh? Nice hens you got there." Well, the hen wife knew what she was looking at, and she said,
- Jack, what have you come for? What do you need from me? Oh, well, he said, I was wondering if perhaps
- you had a bottle of brains about, just, you know, in the corner collecting dust. Maybe you don't need
- any more. Maybe I could have them.
- said the henwife, I might, I might, but you can't get something for nothing. So what I need for you
- to do is bring me the heart of the thing you love the best. Thought Jack, all right. And so he turned
- around and he started walking home and he was getting kind of lightheaded because he hadn't eaten that
- nice supper that he had made for he and his mother.
- His stomach was growling and he was thinking and thinking was always a really hard thing for him to
- do. It did not enjoy it. It took a lot of energy. And so he was thinking and hungry and he thought,
- the thing I love the best, of course, it's the steak that I made for tonight. It's beef, of course,
- that's the thing. And so he got a spring in his step. He knew just what to do. So he ran home and he
- burst into the cottage and he said, mother, mother, we have to kill the cow.
- kill the cow, said the mother, why? Well, and he explained about the henwife and the heart of the thing
- he loved the best. All right, Jack, all right. I guess there's nothing for it. So Jack took out his
- knife and he pulled out his belt and he started to sharpen his knife. And he took that knife and he
- went out into the pasture. And I'm sorry to say he in fact killed that poor cow. And he filleted and
- he did this and that, what they do to cows.
- He cut out that heart, and he wrapped it up in brown paper. And he walked in triumph to the henwife's
- house. And he laid this bloody heart on her table. Well, here it is, the heart of the thing I love the
- best. Hm, said the henwife. And she looked at the bloody package, and she said, all right, we're halfway
- there. Now answer me this.
- What has four stiff standers, four dilly danders, two lookers, two croakers, and a wig wag? Can you
- answer that? Oh, Jack hated riddles. They were the worst. He was never good at riddles. He always relied
- on his mother to think of him. I'm sorry. I just don't know. Too bad.
- No puddle of brains for you this time. Try harder." And so Jack went home, dejected. And he opened the
- cottage door and he said, mother, mother. But there was no reply. He looked for her in the barn. He
- looked for her all until he remembered, oh, well, she was tired. And so he went upstairs. And there
- he found his poor mother lying
- on the bed, still lifeless. Oh, said Jack, and he fell to his knees, and he moaned, and he cried, and
- he held his mother's hand, and he said, Mother, you birthed me, you raised me, you worked your fingers
- till the bone, until now you're here. Oh, Mother, I loved you best. Best. And he let go of her hand.
- picked up his knife and he reached out and he started to sharpen his knife and he raised his knife but
- he couldn't do it. He just couldn't do it. So he put his knife back into his belt and he lifted his
- poor mother and he hoisted her over his shoulder and that's how he went to the house of the henwife.
- And he burst into her door and he laid his mother there on the table. And he said, here, here, inside
- this woman is the heart of the thing that I love the best. Hmm, said the henwife. Now we're getting
- somewhere. All right, all right, let me think. Okay, okay, okay, answer me this. Oh, said Jack.
- All right, what's greater than God?
- worse than the devil. The dead can eat it, but if we eat it, we die. I was so close. Sorry, Jack, not
- good enough. Try harder. And so Jack lifted his poor mother and he walked out into the road until finally
- he just collapsed in despair
- Oh, he said, my poor cow is gone. My mother's gone. I have no brains. I have nothing. And he wept and
- he cried for his mother and his cow and his lack of brains until his cries reached the ear of a young
- farmer named Meg, who happened to be tilling her land, land that she bought from her hard earned money.
- And she went to see what this poor boy was all troubled about. And he told her, and she held his head
- and stroked his head as if he were one of her lambs, one of her very own. She was looking at how very
- fine his head was and how very sweetly his ears laid right against its head. And she noticed there wasn't
- much in between which could make for a fine husband. So after he calmed down a bit,
- Meg said, Jack, tell me this. Are you a married man? Oh, I have nothing. You know this. All right. How
- do you feel about cleaning pots? Oh, I'm actually pretty good at it. Cooking? Yes, yes. I just made
- a very fine steak for my mother and me. How about shopping? Yes, yes.
- Yes, why? Why? I think you and I would make a great match. And it was decided. So that evening, they
- had a very somber and proper funeral. And that morning, they had a lovely, lovely wedding. And the confetti
- from their wedding blew with the wind over the fresh dirt of the grave of his mother. And they lived
- happily in Meg's cottage
- Days turned into weeks, and weeks turned into months, and they were so full of bliss. One evening, Jack
- had made an exceptionally fine bean stew, and Meg had her feet up by the fire. And Jack looked over
- at Meg, and he said, Meg, I think I love you best of... Best of...
- his knife, and he pulled his belt, and he started to sharpen it. And he felt Meg's hand on his wrist.
- He looked up. She said, a beating heart is better than a dead one. Let's go see the henwife together.
- Why don't we? So that's how they went, hand in hand, to the henwife's cottage. And she was very glad
- to see them. And he said, here she is, as I live and breathe.
- the heart of the thing that I love the best." And the henwife's eyes grew bright and she said, all right,
- now we're getting somewhere. Okay, all right. Your first riddle, if you're ready. What has four stiff
- standers, four dilly danders, two lookers, two croakers, and a wig wag? Meg whispered into his ear.
- A cow, said Jack.
- with utter confidence. Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes. You're right, said the henwife. Yes, yes, yes. All right,
- you're ready for the next one. Okay. What's greater than God, worse than the devil, the dead can eat
- it. But if we eat it, we die. Now I've been thinking about this one. When he thought so hard that sweat
- was beating on his forehead, and Meg whispered into his ear.
- Meg, I can't say nothing. I have to give this woman an answer. Oh, nothing, nothing, nothing. Yes, yes,
- yes, said the henwife. All right, your final riddle and you'll have your paddle of brains. Are you ready?
- Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes. Okay, what is the golden box that has no top and no bottom, but it's filled
- with bone and flesh and skin? And it has the ability
- to turn two into one. Hmm, said Jack. That's a tricky one. And Meg kissed his sweet ear and whispered.
- A wedding ring, said Jack. And the hen wife merely danced around the cottage. Yes, yes, yes. Jack, you
- found your puddle of brains. At last, you've must married a clever wife.
- Finally Jack understood, and he and Meg lived out their day in utter bliss. Thank you. I have a story
- about a pot of beans. No. The motif of the evening. Actually, I have a story.
- I come from a long line of storekeepers. And in fact, one of them was reputed to be not a very nice
- person. Well, that's not the story that he came to a dastardly end, by the way. It's a different story.
- I'll work on that one. But this story is about just such a storekeeper. He was kind of mean.
- gruff. When people came into his stores, you had to keep your eye on that storekeeper. Because if you
- were going to get some salt or some beans or, or anything else that needed to be measured on the scale,
- you needed to watch that he didn't slip his thumb up there and kind of add a little weight, short weight
- you. You also had to watch when you
- got something off the shelf, and it said it was going to sell for a certain amount, and you'd get up
- there, and you'd kind of up the price a little bit, hoping you wouldn't notice. So you had to keep your
- eye on this fellow. You had to use some caution. Now, you might be saying to yourself, then don't go
- to his store. But his was the only one in about 10 miles.
- had to go there. They just knew that they needed to use caution when dealing with him. Now they were
- a religious folk that lived in this area and there was a big revival going on. The Baptist Church was
- having a revival. It had been a tremendous success going on three weeks this revival had been.
- And many of them had been there and they had been spiritually uplifted. They felt moral and good in
- their relationship to God and to Jesus. Some of them got together and said, we need to get the storekeeper
- to the revival. We need to make him a moral man. We need to have him see the light.
- And so they started working on the feller and telling him he needed to go to the revival. Well, they
- badgered him so that finally he agreed on the very last night that, yeah, all right, I'll go.
- And he did. And he marched right down front, right in front of the preacher man, and he sat down just
- so everybody could see that he'd gone there.
- Well, they started singing, and the preacher preached. Everybody was hallelujah-ing. And finally, the
- storekeeper down front said, amen. And his neighbors came up, people that traded with him and they took
- him by the elbows,
- And when the altar call came, they took him down to the front where he pledged that he had been saved.
- Most people didn't feel like it was probably true. So a few of them went to the store the next day to
- see what might transpire.
- Nearer, my God, to thee. While the storekeeper was going around, he was singing hymns and quoting scripture.
- They still didn't believe it. But after a while, a little boy came in. And they all knew that the old
- storekeeper couldn't stand kids.
- him a bit. He was mean to him. And when this little boy came in, the storekeeper looked at him and said,
- Howdy, young man. What can I do for you today? Well, I got a nickel. I'd like a nickel's worth of candy,
- please. And he handed the storekeeper the nickel and the neighbors
- People in the store watched as the storekeeper went around and filled a sack with not a nickel's worth,
- but at least 25 cents worth of candy. Rolled the top of that sack and gave it to the young man. And
- the little boy headed out, took the nickel and dropped it in the till and said,
- suffer the little children to come unto me. They were impressed. Well, it wasn't too much longer before
- Mrs. Myers came into the store and, well, it was her father's 90th birthday and she wanted to pick up
- some useful things to give to him as a gift. Well, humming rock of ages, the
- The storekeeper went around and he pulled out a bandana handkerchief, a Barlow knife, and some sock
- supporters. Put them in a bag. Now that was at least $2 worth of merchandise. But the storekeeper said,
- that would be 50 cents, Mrs. Myers. She gave him the 50 cents and went on her way
- He took the 50 cents and he put it in the till and said, honor thy father and thy mother. Well, they
- were really impressed. They had really changed this man. Now, about this time, they heard a sound outside
- the store. Well, it was a great big pickup truck,
- a full pickup truck, much nicer than what they had around there, and it had a long horse trailer on
- it. And pretty soon in the door walked a tall fella in fancy cowboy boots, 10 gallon hat. He walked
- up. The storekeeper said, what can I do for you, sir? I am needing a horse blanket.
- for my horse," said the storekeeper. Now, he hadn't sold a horse blanket in probably 10 years, but he
- had a stack of old ones out in the feed shed. So he went out, he found this cruddy old brown horse blanket,
- kind of flicked off the insects and the bugs and
- Brought that blanket in and laid it on the counter. He said, now that's a fine horse blanket. Now it's
- probably worth about $2. But the storekeeper said, I'll sell that to you for $9.98. I have a horse worth
- thousands of dollars out in that trailer.
- blanket is not good enough for my horse. Got something else?" And so the storekeeper went back out to
- that stack of old horse blankets all alike, different colors, and he pulled out a green one. And again,
- he made sure there weren't any pigeon droppings on it.
- sort of thing. Well, it was a little moth eating around the edge, but he brought in the green blanket
- and he laid it down on the counter. He said, now this is a finer blanket than the one I just showed
- you. This one is $49.98.
- That blanket is not good enough for this Tennessee walker horse that I have out in the trailer. I want
- your finest blanket. All right. And the storekeeper went out to the feed shed, pulled out a red blanket.
- and folded it, gave it a shake, got all the bits and insects and so forth, all of it. Notice that it
- was kind of faded on one side, so he folded it so the bright side was up. And he brought out that blanket
- and he put it on the counter and he said, there is my finest horse blanket.
- $99.98. And the stranger looked at it and he pulled out a $100 bill and he handed it to him and said,
- keep the change. And he picked up the horse blanket and he walked out. And the neighbors all heard as
- that pickup truck started up and
- went away, and they all turned to look at the storekeeper. Just as I am. And he held up that $100 bill,
- looked at it, and said, for he was a stranger, and I took him in.
- And that's the story of the storekeeper. Thank you all for joining us tonight. We do invite you to join
- us out in the atrium for refreshments and to meet the tellers. We are really rare people, aren't we?
- And again, thank you to the friends of the library.
- Thank you to Adult Services of the Monroe County Public Library, and most of all, thank you to you,
- our audience.