The sun. [volume] (Newberry, S.C.) 1937-1972, December 03, 1948, Image 6

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THE NEWBERRY SUN. NEWBERRY. S. C. FICTION Corner THE JAGGED SCAR Tom and his dad had always been pals, so much so that when "the old man" suddenly became sullen and morose toward his son, Tom attrib uted it to his "growing up" and he began to find life almost unbearable. Hr HE Tow-Headed Boy with the hair dose cropped didn’t know what it was. The old man spent hours just gazing oiT into space. He sat on the top front porch step, his cane between his knees, his feet planted on the second step and the cane end set on the bottom one. With his hands crossed over the cane head, the right hand carefully covered the jagged scar across the back of the left one. Other times, when the boy was around, he always seemed busy reading the newspaper. He kept it folded so he could hold it with one hand, the scarred hand concealed in his lap. Of course, he had never been very talkative. Stoic, like the hill people he came from, he never mentioned his troubles. When he’d chopped his hand with' an ax out in the back yard, he’d sneaked through the kitchen hiding the man gled bloody member behind him sc the boy’s mother wouldn’t see. The boy had stood in the front room wide-eyed and anxious with fear when the old man saw him. ’’Don’t tell your mother, boy!” he’d warned before he went into the bedroom to tear up an old sheet for wrapping his hand. But the boy’s mother had noticed. She sensed the strange atmosphere, the unusual actions. She’d followed him into the bedroom, and the boy had heard the old man shushing her, while she bawled him out for hiding the thing. He kept saying it was nothing—and afterwards he never talked about it, never com plained. He just never let anyone se% the jagged scar across the back of his hand if he could help it. Now. the old man was with drawn; he couldn’t get near him anymore, couldn’t talk to him. Once, he’d been able to get a kind word out of the old man. He’d say, ’’That’s good, Tom!” or, “That’s not the way that ought to be done, Son!” And though there weren’t very many words between them, they were the kind that made the boy feel good, and know that everything was all right. Now, it was different. The old man didn’t seem to have time for him. He didn’t want to take their long silent walks together anymore. him. He called him the old man when he was with the (Other boys his age, not with any disrespect but he always called him dad around his mother. “Oh, leave your father alone, can’t you?” she said. And he went away sensing an even greater wrong. Even little Rosemary, the girl he talked to shyly in the school yard sometimes, seemed -to .be treating him different lately. “What’s wrong with you?" she’d ask right in'the middle of his won dering what was wrong with the old man and his mom. “Oh, nothing—nothing!” he’d say qtflckly. "Why?” “Well, you don’t talk near so much anymore,” she'd say, “and you seem so far away like!” He wondered if Just not paying any attention to her while he was thinking about his dad and mom made her think there was some- breath, his young chest swelling quickly with the sharp intake of air. He held it, stiffened his lip. He would not cry. Crying wasn’t grown up! The thought struck him then that maybe that was the whole thing that was wrong. He was growing up I He wanted to turn down that thought right away. If this was what It was like, if this was grow ing up—then he didn’t want to be big! He didn’t want to be. It hurt too much. Why couldn’t it be like it used to be with the old man and him? But if that was it—if it was just growing up—then it never would be like that again. And Rosemary —she would never treat him the same again, either. She knew, too! Just getting big, you had to be hard, cold, without love, under standing, feeling or— There was something wrong in just growing up! The boy started to rub his knuckle into his eye, but stopped. A bleak chill was settling in his heart, as he watched the old man “Oh, leave your father alone, can’t you?’ away sensing an even greater wrong. she said. And he went thing wrong with him. Or if maybe there was really something wrong with him. He hated the thought, but it kept like he used to. And he didn’t move cropping up ln ^ mind . Maybe he around much. He even seemed to resent the boy’s presence, like when he’d stumbled that time in the front room and caught himself on hi., cane. He growled at the boy, leaving him speechless and hurt. But he wasn’t old, not like Grampa —and—and the old mare down on the farm. Still, the last time he’d brought his report card home from school, happily expecting the old man to say, as he sometimes did, “That’s good, Son, good that you’re getting your learning!” and smile at him quietly, he hadn't done it. He’d only glanced at the card on one side then turned it over and said something that sounded like “Humph!" and handed it back to him shortly. The boy had worked extra hard that last month to get the grades up hoping the old man might break through to him again. He couldn’t understand that short “Humph!” There was something wrong, and the boy wondered if it could be him. His mother seemed to act the same _way toward him. Cut him off short, when he’d tried awkwardly to ask her about how dad was treating was adopted! Maybe'.the old man and his mom were not really his father and mother, but had just adopted him—and he was just now finding it out. The thought fright ened him, and he buried it deep in his mind. If it was true, he’d oe like the old man; hide his hurt. He’d never let them know he knew! His father called him “boy” now, instead of ‘Tom” or “Son,” like he had. And he was sharp, al most harsh sometimes. H E WAS bouncing his ball off the side of the house when the old man came around from the back yard. In an excess of boyish joy, he forgot for a moment what the situa tion was between them. He threw the ball to the old man. Instead of catching it and firing it back so it would sting his hands the old man ignored it. He did nothing till the ball hit him, and bounced harmlessly off his shoulder. He tensed then, lifted his cane. “Stop that infernal nonsense, boy!” he yelled. The boy could feel his own lip tremble as he stared at the old man’s angry face. He took a deep WHO m IT SUM) HO has not suffered docs not know All that his God would have him know. He has not learned the patient truft That those who suffer bravely muSt He has not seen Faith’s Star arise Above the blackest midnight skies; Nor clung to Hope that lights the way Across the grayeSt, bleakest day, Nor waited, quietly aware Of God beyond unanswered prayer He has not known how deep a peace May follow some sweet, sure release. Who has not suffered does not know All that his God would have him know. Grace Noll Crowell * go in the front door. But he fol lowed him, some strange knowing ness urging him to get his answer confirmed. To make sure that was it The old man was bent over fum bling around on the floor for the worn leather change purse he’d dropped, when the boy walked in. His hand closed on the purse and he straightened quickly. “Here, boy,” he said hurriedly, digging into the pouch. “Run down to the comer and get me a paper 1” He often asked him to do that, and the boy felt a rise of that good feeling at anything he could do for the old man. He held out his hand and the old man laid three coins in his palm. “Now hurry, boy!” he urged harshly. The boy felt disappoint ment at the sharp, urgent tone, until he glanced down at the coins. Suddenly, he stood very still. Two dimes and a penny lay in his hand to pay for the three-cent paper. Waves of coldness washed up his spine as the bitter acid of knowl edge bit’ into his nerve ends and settled in his brain. He made no outcry; not even the sound of a murmur passed his tight lips. But hot liquid emotion scalded two lines of silent tears down his cheeks as he gazed, knowingly at last, up into his father’s slowly blinding eyes. “Okay, dad!” he said, his voice stumbling over his heart, “Okay, dad!” by NANCY PEPPER PARTY PICKUPS We could tell you that the new party game is called “photography" but you’d know that was only a gag, because blackout stuff and kissing games went out with “Chi- baba Chibaba.” Here are some really good party ideas to keep your guests in circulation and good hu mor. Balloon Busters—Tie a balloon to the ankle of every girl at the party. The object of the dance that fol lows is for the girls to burst each other’s balloons. The boys are the steering committee, steering then- partners into strategic positions for bursting other girls balloons or pro tecting their own. Last one with a balloon wins a prize. She may need an aspirin, too. Paper Dolls—Each boy is equipped with old newspapers, a scissors and a paper of pins. Within a specific time he must create a newspaper dress on his partner. Cleverest de sign wins prizes for the designer %nd his victim. She also receives as sorted stabs and pin pricks. If those games don’t help break the ice, better bring on the refresh ments early. There’s nothing like a banana-peanut butter and marsh mallow slurpwich to put everybody in a mingling mood. Night Hog Feeding Shows Good Results Experiment May Prove Useful During Summer What is believed to have been the first experiment in night feeding of hogs indicates that this practice may prove highly practical, at least during the summer months. The experiment was conducted by Robert C. Turner, a Henry, HI., farmer, who produced an average gain of 92 pounds each on a herd of 107 Duroc hogs he had on his night-feeding program for 63 days. To encourage his pigs to eat dur ing the cool of the night when they were reluctant to eat during the heat of the summer days, Turner erected lights in his hog lot. He had a time clock control set to switch the lights on for two night feedings, from 10 to 11:30 p. m. and from 2 to 3:30 a.m. One pole with a single 150-watt bulb and another pole with two 150-watt bulbs lighted the hog lot area, while a third pole with two 150-watt bulbs lighted the self-feed ers. Turner fed a ration of ground oats and a pelletized milk product in the self-feeders, hand fed ear com, and provided mineral, salt and good al falfa pasture. His 107 pigs, farrowed in late March and early April, weighed in for the test at 7,424 pounds, or an average of 69.38 pounds each. They weighed out at 17,270 pounds, or an average of 161.4 pounds each. This What are believed to be new records for economical and speedy pork production were established by Robert C. Turner of Henry, HI., in his night hog-feeding ex periment. meant a total gain of 9,846 pounds of pork, about 92 pounds per pig, or an average daily gain of about 1.45 pounds per pig. The herd consumed a total of 27,- 069 pounds of feed at a cost of $1,- 089.91. According to these figures Turner produced his gain at the rate of 275 pounds of feed for each 100 pounds of pork, or a feed cost of about $11.70 per hundred weight. The experiment used 148 kilowatt hours of electricity at a cost of $7.40, or about seven cents per pig. Plash Age on Farm The future living quarters for Bos- sie and Dobbin may still be a far cry from farmhouse comforts and big-city penthouse plush, but at least some of them will have air conditioning, in the interests of more milk and better livestock health. A new barn humidity control sys tem which will reduce excessive bam moisture to levels that will do away with decay, rusting and mildewing equipment, and losses due to spoiled animal feed, bacteria and insanitary conditions, has been put on the market. The new system will automatical ly control fans and other devices for reducing excessive animal-pro duced moisture which in winter oft en reaches 100 per cent saturation. Contour-Seeded Fields Produce Larger Crops Contour-seeded wheat fields pro duce larger crops than those seed ed up and down the slope, according to recent expert reports. Increases of two to three- bushels an acre have been reported on con- tour-seeded wheat fields in many instances. Also, in addition to pro ducing bigger yields, wheat fields seeded in this manner erode less. It takes little extra time to plow, disc and seed on the contour. SCRIPTURE: Acts 1:8; 2:1-4; 4:1-4; 8:4-17. 25: 11:1-18; 13:1-3; 14:26-27: 16-1- 10: 28:16, 30-31. DEVOTIONAL READING: Acts 4:23- 31. Story of Revolution Lesson for December 5, 1948 T HE MOST important history in the world is in one small book. The most important movement, the most revolutionary, the one that is destined to change the world more than any other, is the Christian church. The story of how it began is in the book of Acts. No other book in or out of the New Testament tells the story: The history of the beginnings Dr- Foreman of the one and only international, interracial, world wide movement that sets out to aim at nothing less than a complete transformation of mankind, the Revolution from Within, the Chris tian Church. * • • What the Church Is T HERE are hundreds of churches today and they do not all agree. But every church, whatever its name or peculiarities, aims to stay on the course marked out by the Christian church when it was one and undivided, the church of the Apostles. We look back to the story in Acts to see what the true church is. In the very beginning, the church was not the place where the Christians met for worship. It was not the officers. The Apostles themselves were not the chifrch. The church was not a thing at all; it was people. In Acts these people are seldom called Christians and never called churchmen or church-members. They are given more meaningful names. They are called “disciples,” that is, learners, students. They are called "believers." They are called "brothers” for their life was like that of a family. They are called the people of “the Way,"—travelers together to the same destination. The church, in short, is a fellow ship, the Family of the Friends of Christ. • • • How <he Church Began T HE infant church was like all human babies; it began small and poor. No bystander would have expected it to live; but it had life in its heart. Two forces set that church on its way. One was the command of Christ. The people who were in it, or rather the people who were the church, took their orders from Christ. It was because of him that they went out to bear wit ness to him to the “uttermost parts of the earth.” Then the people were filled with the Holy Spirit; they were guided constantly by the Spirit. The book of Acts has often been called the “Acts of the Holy Spirit” rather than of the Apostles. • • • Leaders G OD never does for people what they can do for themselves. So guidance of the Spirit was never a substitute for human leadership. A true church is not a mob: It acts, as the New Testament church did, in an orderly fashion. One of the church’s first prob lems was that of finding leaders. The history in Acts is largely the history of certain leaders—John, Peter, Paul. But these were not alone. Not even the Apostles tried to run the church like a dictator ship. The people themselves chose the officers who were ordained by the Apostles. • * * What the Church Does F IVE things the Apostolic church did, and these mark any true church today. They “continued in the Apostles’ teachings;” the be ginning of all our church schools and Sunday schools is in that brief phrase. They formed a fellowship; the church then was not a list of names of people who cared little for one another; it was a true family. They observed the sacra ments; they and their house holds were baptised, and they continued “in the breaking of the bread.” Baptism and the Lord’s Supper have always been observed in some form in every Christian church! They “continued in prayer;” a church in which only the minister prays is a feeble affair. Above all, they were “witnesses." That is to say, they told the story of Jesus—his life, his teachings, his death, his resurrection. Jesus livesl Jesus is Lord! So the Apostles preached, from Jerusalem to Rome and far beyond. But their preaching would have been mere shouting in the wind, if Christ had not lived again in thousands of everyday Christians. 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