THOSE THARE WADE BOYS Old man Wade, out Pleasant View way, I suppose is right proud of them three strappin' boys of his. Tares Ellis and Mac, and young Ed - got a darn nice sister named Florence, too. She's full of educated parlor manners and is a right smart singer, sings soo-piano, I believe, but I guess I'd better get back to those thare Wade boys. I've known Ellis, or "Red" as we always called him, since he was about halfway up a sunflower stalk in height. When he was a kid he used to chase rabbits over the boulder-covered hill back of their place, lammin' rocks up to hens egg size, and hoopin' like a whisky-soaked Sioux on the warpath. Red liked to run, Red did. When the state highway was changed from a muck covered cow lane to a hard surfaced road, why Red was tickled plum pink. He'd get out on that black, shiny road and run like the seven milltails of Hades was at his heels, just for the fun of it. Red used to like to get out and race the street care from Pleasant View to North Ogden and back. He wouldn't run on Saturday though, as so many folks were a comin' and a-goin' that the care made too many stops, and Red would git sore, cuss a bit, and run away from the darn thing. Then one year when Red had passed the legs-and-arms stage of growing up, the school house at Pleasant View burned down. The old man kinda thought Red might of had a hand in it to get out of going to school, so he sent him in to Ogden with the team of bays, and the white top, to finish his education. Red got along swell at Ogden High. He couldn't remember football signals very well, but chasin' Jacks on the rock hills kinda fitted right in with the broken field running. Ended up his last year as all-state halfback and a season average of 10 yards for every time he tucked the old ball in those hairy paws of his. Al Warden has all this dope filed away in his book of memories, so I got backin'. Did considerable ball playin' an' basketball, too. He was sure a son-of-a-gun, Red was! Went on up to the U.S.A.C. and was good material, ill used. He's coaching now, so I hope he don't get sore about the mentioning when he couldn't remember football signals. That boy Mac is a darn fine fellow. He ought to be a Sigma Chi or something classy like that, instead of a Delta Phi. Thares nothing too good for But Mac didn't ever have much time to develop into an athlete. He plays a mighty nice game of basketball now, but never really had time to take to sports seriously. You see, Mac used to have to herd hogs on the pole patch when he was a kid. Kinda took a liking to the dumb critters. Had a fancy book names for them all, and his long, mournful S-O-O-Y-E-E-E could be heard drifting over the dusky vale when the long day was done. The pigs did right smart one year, so Mac was high-tailed away on a mission. Herdin' humans was no harder than herdin' hogs to Mac, so he puttered around with them, gain' their likings just like he did the hogs. Did a spell of singing off an' on, and that hog collin' voice of his was as smooth as 'lasses syrup. Made a lot of good Christians on his stay, Mac did. When he came back, he dropped in at Weber College to say 'howdy', and by jing, before he knew it he caught the spirit and stayed. Mission hadn't changed him a bit - same ol' Mac. Don't think he is God's earthly messenger, or a second great Jehovah, and mixes right in with us common folks. Darn! I like Mac. Now there's that young Ed. By hellfry, I never did know what he was going to turn into - flagpole, bird or one of these old pre-historic dine-e-sars. First time I ever saw Ed he was a unraveling across the road part of him at a time with Brother Red right after him on horse back, and swinging a las so rope like he meant business. You folks that have lived down in slough country knows what a ridiculous off. Well, that was my conception of young Ed. You city folks that have never seen a shitepike well kinda hafta use your imagination as to the picture that young fellow cut, as I ain't never seen anything in town that even resembles him. Young Ed kinda run wild over the hills, and one day Red, Mac, and the Old Man heard a wild screeching back in the rocks, and away they went to find out the commotino. Seems like Young Ed got his foot caught in a kinda narrow canyon and they had to blast it out. His ears ain't no daisys, but being on that portion of the body above the neck they kinda got a head start on the rest of the frame. Mac says Ed wouldn't a been so blamed tall but he ran around in the oak brush so much that he kinda had to lengthen out to get up to the sunlight. Young Ed went to school after a fashion, and is finally a senior in high school. Used to laugh a lot at young Ed, galloping up and down the sidelines at a football game, or cavorting at guard in basketball, with that wild hair look in his eye. Well, he fooled me again! Seems like to shoot over, or dribble around those signal-flag arms of his he's outlived a considerable bit of his clumbsyness. Ed's greatest pride is in hsi feet. Real he-man size for a kid to be toting around. Must be close to size 15 by now. Ed won two dollars at the tournament last year betting on the size of his feet. Darn! he was as tickled as if he'd won the tournament single handed. Yup. They're a great trio - those fellows! all wool and a yard wide. Young Ed sure has corned the big feet market, but not a one of them has a touch of the big-head. Look 'em up some time - you'll like 'em!