Monday, May 30, 2011

NOON-TIME MELODY; part 2; by Myar Hansen; 1937

The Carey's farm was located about ten miles from Hoskins, a small, thriving industrial city. It wasn't a very large farm; Mr. Carey kept six cows and about a hundred hens; raised vegetables which he sold in the city in season along with milk and eggs to earn a comfortable income without too much effort.

One Sunday, a year ago, after a dinner at the Carey's Paul had had a bright idea. It was a chicken dinner, prepared as only Mrs. Carey and Susie knew how; deliciously roasted spring pullet, thick rich gravy, soup as clear as liquid gold. Apple pie thick and juicy, with a crust that left his mouth watering.

“Gee,” he'd exclaimed, “what people wouldn't give for a dinner like this! You ought to hang up a sign, 'Tourists,' you're on the main highway and business would be great.”

The Careys had been thinking of that very thing for a long time and Paul's remark hastened their decision.

The upshot of it was that they put a thousand dollar mortgage on the farm so that necessary alternations could be made on their old-fashioned home,--a huge new screened-in porch where meals could be served; a new bathroom; rooms made over upstairs for guests; painting inside and out. By the middle of that summer “Aunt Carey's” was doing a rushing business, not only with tourists, but from entire families who came out from the near-by city for Sunday dinner.

And then the blow had fallen.

There had been agitation for paving on this main trunk line that ran past the Carey place and finally the State had decided to build a concrete boulevard with the aid of government funds. Paul and Susie had been jubilant, thinking that it meant bringing still more trade to “Aunt Carey's.” And then, without any warning whatsoever, engineers had rerouted the new road to avoid two steep hills and a bridge over a brook. The new strips of concrete now lay a quarter of a mile from the Carey's front door.

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