Foothill Follies/Foothill Fact and Fancies by LouElla Jones Bronson

Foothill Follies
By Lou Ella J. Bronson
May 28, 1937

Busy Season
At this time of year when spring finally arrives, though late, farmers put forth every effort to make the most of a short growing season. In order to get crops planted as quickly as possible, they work early and late. No one on the farm can get enough sleep and the hired man complains that the boss tucks him in on one side of the bed then walks around to the other side and yanks him out again.

Poor Man
A farmer here, probably an ex-cow puncher, hobbled to the house the other day and between groans said to his wife, “That old cow has durn near killed me. I believe she’s broke every bone in my foot.”
“Goodness, that’s too bad,” sympathized his better half. “I suppose she stepped on it and wouldn’t move for half an hour.”
“Well, no,” he admitted, “I was trying to milk the old hussy and she wouldn’t stand still, so I up and kicked her!”

WHO’S WHO IN CASSIA COUNTY
Ethel Bronson aged four has known Dr. C.I.Sater of Malta for a long time but when she met Dr. R.J. Sutton of Oakley she got their names mixed, and calls one Dr. Suter and the other Dr. Satan. The problem is to figure which is which.


(At this point the title of the column changes again...)

FOOTHILL FACTS AND FANCIES

July 29, 1937

WIRE GATES
The other day I had occasion to ride horseback to one of the neighbor’s a distance of about two miles. On this trip it was necessary to open eight or more wire gates, making a total of sixteen times I had to dismount to open and close gates. It seems that no matter what state of dis-repair the ranchers’ fences may be in, they always keep their wire gates mended after a fashion and so tightly closed that it would take a Houdini to get through most of them. AS I was carrying a bushel of grain part of the way back home, by the time I arrived my thoughts about the fellow who invented this typical western monstrosity were anything but complimentary.

HAYMAKING
Wherever one goes lately there is the appealing odor of new mown hay and Junction valley is no exception. Haying is the principal occupation here at present. For recreation and diversion the haymakers have the privilege of loping to shelter during earch of the frequent thunder showers.

BIRTH ANNOUNCEMENT
An example of the speed with which news sometimes travels in the foothills was shown the other day when Moulton residents heard of the arrival of a baby girl at the home of Mr. and Mrs. Philbert Lind some time in February. This news was special because of the fact that although the young lady is the Linds’ fifth child, she is their first daughter.

CITY SHEEP HERDER
One sheep outfit here seemed to be unable to keep a herder for any length of time, so they were always getting new and inexperienced hands. Once they brought out a man who had always lived in a city and had never before seen a sheep. They put his camp on a mountain meadow near a spring which only needed to be cleaned out. In a couple of days he called at a ranch for a drink and remarked that if his employers didn’t bring him some water he was going to quit. During the conversation that followed he asked the rancher, “what do you suppose makes the sheep run at night?”
“Oh, probably jackrabbits, or maybe a coyote was after them.”
“I know it wasn’t a coyote,” explained the herder. “At least it never killed any, for if it had, the sheep would have yelled bloody murder.”

ACCIDENT
The Vipont truck driver lost control of his truckload of ore on the road this side of the Granit pass. As he bucked over a fence and one or two mountain washes. I assume he was trying to train his steed for the Oakley celebration.

August 12, 1937

PITCHFORK OR PEN

Thinking that bunching and loading hay would be a nice soft job, I tried it for a few days, but came to the conclusion that (Illegible)
Where There is Smoke
The smoky hase that hangs over the foothills these days should remind us that fire is a treacherous villain, traveling fast and far. Though east to (illegible) once it gains headway fire is (illegible) hard to extinguish. A little (illegible) now might prevent many catastophes later.

New Teacher

The current professor of the Moulton district having resigned his position in favor of a larger school, there was a vac ancy in the faculty. This made the board of trustees popular with candidates for the position, and several fine looking young fellows made personal applications. As beign married was one of the requirements, Harry Eames of Elba brought his newly acquired bride along and got the job. Mr. Leavitt will teach at Springdale.

Frost Does Some Good

An early frost did a little damage to some garden crops, but was useful in that it put a slight damper on some annoyances such as mosquitoes and nudists.

Oakley Brevities…

Among the early-timers visiting the home town Sunday were Mr. and Mrs J.L. Webb of Los Angeles, who moved from Oakley 27 years ago: Wallace Craner of Buhl who left 25 years ago: and Nelton Anderson of Twin Falls, who left 15 years ago.

August 19, 1937

LIGHTNING STRIKES

Lightning set fire to a hay stack belonging to Westly and LaMar Bronson Saturday afternoon. Volunteer fire fighters were able to get the blaze under control and save most of the hay.

Jack Haines was knocked for two or three rolls by lightning on the same day at Lynn, Utah. Although Jack was badly shaken he was uninjured.

JUNCTION’S BEST CROP

Last Sunday there were thirty-eight children at church, out of a total attendance of sixty. If we can’t imprt inhabitants for our valley, perhaps we can raise ‘em.

TAME DEER

Edgar Meecham and his eight-year-old son LaVar, who returned to Burley recently after herding sheep in this locality, kept account of the number of deer they saw during the summer. Mr. Meecham counted thirty-nine, while LaVar, who was out only forty-three days, saw twenty. Mr. Meecham states that often the deer would feed around with the sheep without any fear of the herder.

TRAINS AND BUGGY RIDES

Frank Olson’s comment on folks who have seen trains caused me to make some inquiries which brought out the fact that we have a girl eleven years old who has never ridden on a train. However I think we can claim some distinction inasmuch as we’ve all had a buggy ride.

August 26, 1937

ROADS

It’s getting to be about the time of year when someone should start to holler about the Birch creek road, so I might as well be the one to begin. Are we going to be snowbound again this year because our road is ungraded and there are no snow fences? Let us hope something more than growls and threats is done about it this fall.

SCHOOL IMPROVEMENTS

A number of things are being done to the Moulton school house and grounds in the way of improvement: plastering, kalsomining and painting on the inside and fencing, fixing the pump and shed on the outside. Two things will yet be lacking. One is a flag pole and the other a sign giving the name of the school. This latter would give residents some relief from answering tourists who persist in asking, “Where is Moulton?”

RUSHING BUSINESS

In a conversation with an out-of-towner I remarked that it looked as if I would need to go somewhere and work in order to send our girl to highschool.
“Why don’t you go to Almo and send her on the new bus line to Malta?” Asked the O.T.
“What in the world kind of work could I get to do in Almo?”
“Well- you might get a job in one of the beer joints. There’s only three of them, so they are pretty busy.”

September 1, 1937

AUTUMN SIGNS

Some unmistakable signs of approaching autumn may be noticed these days in the foothill country. The mountains seem to recede a little farther in the distance. An increasing number of grain fields are being reduced to stubble; many truckloads of grain steering toward the railroad. Sheep men are commencing to take their flocks from the hills to the lower country and to fields. Activity is increasing around the school houses, with about an equal number of kids looking sad and happy at the prospects of returning to the study of the three r’s. And last but not least that old hen you (illegible) painstakingly about April, giving her the best of care, who hatched out one chick, now struts proudly out in the barnyard, after having (illegible) away, with a breed by twelve or thirteen. It will probably be the latter number on that when they all freeze to death later on you can say that is the reason.

HONEY, AT ANY RATE

Judging from the frequent visit made by a couple of young cubs from Vipont, they must have found a bee tree in Moulton.

DANCE

A shindig of first dimensions were held here Friday night. Floyd Leavitt and Harry Eames, the retiring and this years profs, were the guests of honor. They with their wives and some friends came from Elba. There were also representatives from Almo, Oakley, Burley and Pocatello, Idaho, as well as from Smithfield and Vipont, Utah.

EFFICIENCY

There have been several fires on the hills around us lately, but they have been promptly extinguished. It is said that these fires have been reported by airplane pilots, and forest workers sometimes arrive at the scene within an hour. It’s rather pleasant to contemplate such efficiency, especially in comparison with the carelessness of those who are responsible for starting the fires.

September 16, 1937

MODERN HARVEST

During this harvesting season, on one occasion I had the privilege of riding on a combined harvester and observing at first hand how modern machinery has eliminated labor. Where it used to require fourteen or more men to cut and thresh grain, the work is now done by two, and no doubt it takes less than half the time. One man drives the tractor which pulls the harvester at a speed of about eight miles an hour. The other places the empty sacks on the machine and when they are filled removes them, sews them up, then dumps them off onto the field. The manufacturers thought that this poor fellow had the hardest job, so to compensate him they built for his comfort a very fine upholstered seat. Now, “threshers for dinner” is merely an incident in the farm-wife’s life instead of a great event as it used to be in days gone by.

DING DONG BELL

When one of our little puppies was missing for three days we were at a loss to know what had become of it. On the third day however, when we heard yelps and howls coming from a forty-eight foot well, we were somewhat enlightened. How to get him out was a puzzling question. Boys will be boys you know, but sometimes girls must be boys too. Anyway Laura Pearl went down the well, stepping on a rock curbing, holding to the pipe, and rescued the rash puppy. As this well had gone dry during the depression the pup hardly got his feet wet and aside from an insatiable appetite he was uninjured.

September 23, 1937

ROADS AGAIN

Some work has been done recently on the Birch creek canyon road, but I’m wondering if it will advance as far as the Lyman summit and the Butler lane where some grading should be done and snow fences built to make a passable road this coming winter. This stretch of road has been treated so far like the old fellow’s leaky roof: when it rained he couldn’t fix it and when the sun shone he didn’t need to.

CROSS QUESTIONS

A four year old child asks nearly a thousand questions a day. The fact that about the only answers they receive are “yes, “ “uh-nuh,” and “I don’t know,” never seems to discourage the questioner. Here is a sample or two of the kind I get fired at me regularly: “When will we die?” “Why do we breathe?” “Why can’t you see the air?” Yet there are folks who thinks that a girl needs little if any education in order to raise a family?

LIZZIE SAVES THE DAY

One of our neighbors says his old Model T will run on most anything, but since ours wouldn’t run on milk, this same Model T saved me a walk of about two miles, carrying the milk the car couldn’t eat.

September 30, 1937

With the advent of Clarence Fairchild’s thresher the grain harvesting draws to a close for this season and the farmers are preparing the ground for the crops of another year. Besides the usual crops that are harvested here regularly, one farmer, Raymond Lind, has a new one – timothy seed.

Wood haulers are making their yearly trek to the hills Some report the finding of a few- but very few—pine nuts.

Mrs. Joe Moon won a total of six prizes at the county fair—three firsts and three seconds. The prize winning articles were cakes, rolls, jelly and a dress.
The mail carrier, Vance O. Lind, had a reasonable excuse for being late with the mail on Friday evening late with the mail on Friday evening when he returned in a dashing new car.

The hills are beginning to show the first tints of autumn, on the aspen leaves: although frost visited the lower parts of the valley long ago.
Clyde Tunk was more or less excited when he lost a bunch of the cattle he had been pasturing this summer. However, all’s well that ends well. He found ‘em.

October 7, 1937

We took a ride through the Junction valley one day this week and found that it was well worth our while. The first noticeable thing was the new fence around the Moulton school grounds, and the cement platform which at last supports the wobbly pump.

Down by the Bellinger a coyote scurried across the road, and we wondered if it was one of those that killed six of Rufus Wright’s sheep the other night. As we crossed Raft river, a great blue crane with its long dangling legs flew up near-by. We saw a deer grazing in a field and were very much excited until we discovered that it was nothing but a big billy goat. There were numerous stacks of hay and grain well as many fields and green pastures on which fat cattle, sheep and horses grazed contentedly.

The hills on this day seemed to have reached the height of their beauty, with the yellow of the aspen leaves emphasized by the dark green pines that grow among them. The reservoir built by Lind Brothers about 1921 in this lovely setting is a point of great interest. It is well liked by the wild ducks who seem to think it was made especially for them. The original homestead of John Lind is a very picturesque place with its white farm house and red roof nestled among the trees. A homesteader’s log cabin also with a red roof adds its touch of color and interest to an already interesting scene. A trailer home sitting by the river gave us to understand that although the scenery may be a bit old fashioned, there are modern people behind the scenes.

October 21, 1937

PACIFIERS

The lasts road news I understand is that we are to have a highway through the Junction valley. Now that’s great if and when we get it, but in the meantime the great highways of the future do not cause any road work to be done on the present traffic lanes. You remember, don’t you, when a long time ago folks used to give babies a sort of rubber nipple fastened to a ring, on which his majesty the baby could chew for hours without getting a morsel of nourishment. Sooner or later however, sonny would get wise, slam the thing on the floor, and yell with all the strength of his perful little lungs. Well, something like that is bound to happen when the people refuse to longer be pacified by promises of this or that concerning roads. Then you will doubtless hear hollerin' as is hollerin'.

NEAR CALAMITY

The recent rain nearly washed all us dry-farmers down to Oakley, but a timely frost ame to our rescue—or theirs!

HOW TO CURE SLEEPLESSNESS

A certain Mr. Smith had just returned home from the morning session of quarterly Conference. “Say but wasn’t that a great meeting we had this morning?” he asked my husband and me, who were guests at the Smith home.
“A lot you would know about it.” Remarked his wife, “you slept through the entire services.”

“You bet I did,” agreed the jovial Mr. Smith, “And I’m going back this afternoon, and have it out.”

November 4, 1937

ALONG THE WAY

Some of the things that I’ve see and heard going to and from Oakley recently are these: flower beds in ful bloom, one especially attractive with white flowers on Water street, about a million jack-rabbits scurrying across the road; large flocks of ravens; a dozen sheep outfits moving to the lower country to take advantage of farm fields; road workers going toward Basin; other folks in Oakley going to work before seven a.m. and I’ve heard the train whistling long and loud. Carl McBride quoting Scripture; kids confessing Halloween pranks; and meadowlarks singing as lustily as if it were spring. I’ve felt the chill of winter in the early morning and the heat of summer at midday, I’ve heard airplanes droning overhead and trucks putt-a-putting with their heavy loads out of beet and potato fields. These and dozens of other things make one glad to be alive and to be taking part in the activity that makes the world go round.

ROADS AGAIN

Hope you’ll pardon me for mentioning roads again, but this needs to be told:
Atwin Falls man going to Salt Lake City lost his way in the City of Rocks and wound up here at Moulton to inquire which road to take. After directing him through Emigrant canyon his informer added apologetically, “I’m afraid you’ll find the road a little rough pending the construction of the new highway.”
“No Well the one I came on couldn’t exactly be called a boulevard,” he replied.

November 18, 1937

MOULTON OBSERVES ARMISTICE DAY

Armistice day was suitably remembered at the Moulton school, with speeches, song and stories. Mr. Harmon, who was a soldier during the war, and Mr. Eames, who belonged to the national guard, showed some of the maneuvers a soldier has to learn. The rifle used in the demonstration was a relic of the World war, Chester Bullers, whose brother was killed in the battle of the Argonne, made a speech on “The Results of War.”

George W. Bronson made a speech and dedicated the new flag ple. Mrs. Haight, the county superintendent, arrived just in time for the program and told how the children helped to win the war.

STAKE PRESIDENT VISITS

President John A. Elison of Malta and Bishop John Zollinger of Sublett were visitors at church Sunday. A large congregation heard their advice.

December 2, 1937

We need a telephone line in our own valleys and hills. It would save many a long trip and might even be the means of saving lives. It would be of immeasurable assistance to stockmen and farmers in selling their produce and would help to foster sociability and neighborliness among us. What a boon it would be to the man with a bunch of cattle or hogs or sheep to sell! What a joy to the housewife who merely wants to borrow her neighbor’s sweet pickle recipe or find out how the sick baby is getting along? And of what invalua ble service in case of suddne sickness or accident where minutes saved in getting a doctor might mean the difference between life and death.

Many theories have been advanced for the establishment of a telephone service here. Among them was one brought out by Henry Millar, the Baron Munchausen of Cassia county, who proposed to string the wires along fence posts. This idea was discarded as impractical for various reasons, one of which was doubtless the fact that fences seem to have the habit of disappearing entirely at times in part of the country. Anyway with a cooperative spirit we should eventually have a telephone line in the foothills. The thing that started me to thinking about it was wishing there were a party line for me to listen on and get some news.

The lure of the old homestead brought Mr. And Mrs. Fred Kidman and daughter Oleda back to our valley to look at remembered scenes and chat with old friends, last weekend. They were accompanied by Ashel and Verla Fairchild and children.
Harry and Velma Eames spent the Thanksgiving holiday with “Father Roy’s” family at Elba.

Mr. and Mrs. J.R. Stowers and grandsons Howard and Clyce Haines have been visiting for a while at the Joe Millard home. Joe and howard are working at present on the stake house at Malta.

Those who attended the community dinner and dance on Thanksgiving day were probably all guilty of eating too much in an effort to stow away the enormous quantity of food provided.

December 9, 1937

Butchering time as arrived in the foothills and is at its height now. All animals whose flesh is good for the food of man had better beware.

A heavy fog hangs over the foothills every morning lately. It is a gentle reminder to get prepared for some real winter weather after a while.

When it was decided that the ladies from Moulton should go to Lynn to Relief society meeting, I volunteered to do the driving for the party. It took some tall talking and some coerscion to persuade some of the members to risk their lives that way, but we finally got to our destination okay. The meeting was unusually successful, being a discussion and demonstration of how to make Christmas gifts. At its close, Mrs. Vida Lind, the hostess, served a sumptuous feast. Outside of tearing a yard or two out of the bishop’s fence, hitting most of the ditches and bumps without slowing down, and running into a wild horse—I know the horse was sild for when the car hit his heels, his heels hit somewhere out in space—the ladies voted me a fair driver and were thankful to get back alive.

A Mutual activity meeting is to be held Friday night in the Moulton school house.
Mr. and Mrs. George Kirkpatrick are visiting relatives at Blackfoot.