Isolated

(Fragment 3)
It was small wonder that my father began walking down the road to Taycheedah to play cards with the men.  He accused her of being solitary and none of the neighbors good enough to invite over.  To tell the truth, that's the way it was.  She was above them in education, had taught school and read every book she could.  She even tried Christian Science, but it never quite came off.

[Editor's Note:  With this fragment, it seems I have finally come to an end, because I cannot find, and may not have preserved, Polly's letters from the 1970's.  My plan now is to re-arrange these extracts in chronological order and then, perhaps, find a way to publish them as a little book.]

What to do?

(Lyndon 15)
I recall a conversation we had alone one late afternoon.  He said, "Well, I suppose you are going to marry Sir Kay?"  I said yes, I supposed so.  And asked what he was going to do.  He spoke very sadly.  Said he didn't know.  He had no prospects, no talents, no education, no expectations.  I remember feeling very sorry, and helpless.

Bumming

(Lyndon 14)
Sometimes he would go on long trips with friends out West, bumming their way.  My father was always so worried.  But he always came back with lots to tell.  And no money.

His humor

(Lyndon 13)
One thing Lyndon loved was comedy in movies, slapstick.  He would tell about it later and laugh heartily.  He had for a friend a tall thin negro who was always falling down awkwardly or getting in funny situations, and Lyn loved to tell us about it and laugh until he nearly choked.  I think I said he should be careful of choosing his friends, but he knew better than I what he wanted to do.

Getting by

(Lyndon 12)
Lyndon never missed a class in school, but just got by.  He never did any outside study at all.  In high school one of his best subjects was art, all done in the classroom.  He got to staying out nights with friends we didn't know.

Free spirit

(Lyndon 11)
Lu never thought about it [i.e. education] at all.  She wanted every one there when dinner was ready, tried to help us when we asked her, was ready to go to the park to swim, more than generous with handing out money for movies, ice cream, etc.  In ways she was like a child herself.  ...

Backup

(Lyndon 10)
So you can see how it was.  I had had my mother long enough to have been influenced by her ideals.  I wanted to go to school.  My father often told me I could go as long as I wanted, be a doctor, and he would back me up.

Lu

 (Lyndon 9)
[After my mother died in 1919] my father married within the year to a woman [Lu] so opposite to my mother.  She was healthy, used cosmetics, had about a fourth grade education, never thought about God, but did go for the right.  She was good hearted, a hard worker, could now sew at all, could cook, no experience with kids.

Pa & Ma Parsons

(Lyndon 8)
You can see where the discipline was seated in our family.  My father liked above all harmony, love for each other, pride in achievement.  My mother was for Truth, perfection, sticking it out, love of God, and of course she loved us too.  But we often forgot that because she was stern and always demanding our best.

Lyndon

(Lyndon 2)
Lyndon was about half my age and was born [1911] in Green Lake, I believe, when we lived on the Victor F. Lawson estate.  He was healthy, medium straight brown hair with blue eyes, rather slim.

Scotch and lively

(Dogs 37)
The book goes on to say the Cairn is as "Scotch as whiskey" and "lively as corn in a popper."  More than that, he has a great heart and stout courage, is rugged and studry.  Ours is also very independent and a character.r

Grandma Kay

(1930s)
This story cannot be told without saying how much Grandma Kay (Rosie Miller) helped us in every way.  All these years I have used her scissors which she lent and refused to take back.

Transition

(1930 June)
I had just wound up a year of school teaching, finishing local and state reports.  Then Lorin came with the car and there was a great moving of all my possessions, clothes and books to my Fond du Lac home.  After a week or so, I was invited to the Kay home [in Milwaukee] to go apartment hunting.  I believe by the time I got there Vina [Lorin's step-mother] had already secured an apartment on the second floor of a two-story building on Oakland Avenue.

Hotel

(1930 June)
It was about supper time as we came to the next town, spotted the only hotel, and decided to spend the night.  Was it Antiack?  It may well have been [but probably was Antigo].  Hotels in the northern part of the state do not present a very grand appearance. This one was poor and bare.  If there were carpets, they had been there a long, long time.  We stood alone in the entrance, rang a bell on the desk, and waited.  A man came from the back, sleeves rolled up, surprised we wanted a room.  After we checked in, he carried our cases up.

Lorin's character

"1980 MEMOIRS" ENDS HERE.
"EARLY MARRIED LIFE" IS A SUPPLEMENT (also from 1980s)

(Married life)
If I hadn't been as big a fool in love as any schoolgirl (which indeed I was) I should have figured out Lorin's character while we were still at Ripon.  Basically, he was a person who liked creature comforts, loved his God and home, disliked physical labor and so chose to live by his wits.

Bus driver

(1980 memoirs)
Then there was a nice boy, very dark, black hair, acne complection, white teeth who lived at a Ripon Hotel and drove a bus to the trains regularly.  This was a bus with long bench seats that were fastened to the sides facing each other.  Marvin rode up high outside as if it were a coach with horses.

Harry the drummer

(1980 memoirs)
Before I leave off telling you about boys I knew at school, I'll have to tell you about one more, Harry.  He was a small person, a drummer in a school band that played in the gym at least once a week for after-supper dances.  I would walk back to school alone after supper and sit out quite a bit as he was busy.  Sometimes he'd get someone to play for him and we'd dance.  I never really cared for him very much, to tell the truth.

Don't

(1980 memoirs)
The president of Ripon College was Silas Evans, well liked by all as far as I ever knew.  Chapel was compulsory and roll call was taken.  Speakers were often professors who were also ministers.  Prexy often spoke himself.  As a member of Tess O'Brian's Special English Class, I flinched every time he said, "He don't."  One day he spoke of it, saying he realized his mistake as soon as he said it, and his wife frequently corrected him, yet he could not overcome it; and cautioned us all to make good habits now

Plaid sox

(1980 memoirs)
A girl I knew, Marian Cole, a pretty blonde, told me about a couple of dates she had with Si Owen.  When he came to call for her, her father was in his slippers, wearing rather bright plaid sox.  As soon as she got her coat and they were in the hall, he whispered, "Where does he keep them?  Those sox?"  And ever after when he called for her he would whisper, "Where are they?"  He was so grave-looking but so funny to talk to it was fun being with him.  But he didn't go with either of us very much at all, but rather with a plain, dowdy girl, and we could never see what he saw in her.

Angel eyes

(1980 memoirs)
[In Biology class] we were seated alphabetically in the Little Theater for the lecture, and that put me next to a wise solemn senior, Si Owen, who was rather slight in build, wore dark horn-rimmed spectacles, and, belying his grave appearance, was exceedingly good company and frequentlly came out with funny and sometimes audacious things.  As soon as I sat down next to him the first day, he said, "Hello, Angel Eyes."