When all but the last couple of hundred doughnuts had been sold, Rupert Black shouted, “I GAWT IT!!” and sure enough . . . there was the diamond bracelet inside of his doughnut!
Then Rupert went home with a hundred dollars, the citizens of Centerburg went home full of doughnuts, the lady and her chauffeur drove off with the diamond bracelet, and Homer went home with his mother when she stopped by with Aunt Aggy.
As Homer went out of the door he heard Mr. Gabby say, “Neatest trick of merchandising I ever seen,” and Aunt Aggy was looking sceptical while Uncle Ulysses was saying, “The rings of batter kept right on dropping into the hot fat, and the automatic gadget kept right on turning them over, and the other automatic gadget kept right on giving them a little push, and the doughnuts kept right on rolling down the little chute just as regular as a clock can tick—they just kept right on a comin’, an’ a comin’, an’ a comin’, an’ a comin’.”
MYSTERY YARN
MYSTERY YARN
ONE fall afternoon Homer was whistling a little tune and raking up leaves from Uncle Ulysses’ front lawn and trying to decide whether to ask for his pay in cash or in doughnuts from Uncle Ulysses’ Lunch Room.
He’d just finished raking the leaves into a neat pile at the curb and was about to go find a match when the sheriff turned the corner in his car.
“Hi Sheriff! Do you have a match?” shouted Homer.
“Sure thing, Homer,” said the sheriff as his car jerked to a stop. “That’s a right smart pile o’ leaves you got there. Lurning beaves, I mean burning leaves sure smell nice don’t they?” he said as he struck a match on his seat and lit the pile.
“Yep, Sheriff, and burning leaves always make me think of football and school,” said Homer.
“And the county fair,” added the sheriff. “That’ll be along in a couple weeks. I’m gonna exhibit my chickens again this year, my white leghorns took a blue ribbon last fall. Well, I’ll be seeing you, Homer,” added the sheriff. Then he flicked a bit of ash off his sleeve, because he had his best Sunday suit on, climbed into his car, and drove to the end of the block. Homer watched while the sheriff got out of his car, straightened his tie and started up Miss Terwilliger’s front steps.
Miss Terwilliger, as any one from Centerburg can tell you, is one of the town’s best known and best loved citizens. She runs knitting classes and in years past has taught almost every woman in Centerburg how to knit. She is a familiar sight on Sundays, holidays, and at social functions, dressed in a robin’s-egg-blue dress which she had knit years ago when she first started her knitting classes. In fact, Sundays and holidays did not seem complete without Miss Terwilliger in her robin’s-egg-blue dress. You might think that a dress so old would look worn and out of style, but not Miss Terwilliger’s. After church or after a party she changes to a house dress of simple cotton print and carefully hangs her favorite blue knit in a closet to save it for the next occasion. The matter of style doesn’t bother Miss Terwilliger. If short skirts are the latest thing, she merely unravels a few inches from the bottom and the dress looks like the latest thing. Of course Miss Terwilliger saves the robin’s-egg-blue yarn that she removes for, as she has so often remarked, “Longer skirts will be in style again in a year or two and then I’ll have the right yarn to knit a few inches back onto the bottom of the skirt.”
Miss Terwilliger is a very clever woman, and besides being an accomplished knitter, she is a wonderful cook. Her fried chicken is famous for miles around Centerburg. It is only natural for such a woman to have many admirers, and two special ones, the sheriff and Homer’s uncle Telemachus. As long as Homer could remember the sheriff had gone every Thursday, and Uncle Telemachus had gone every Sunday, to call on Miss Terwilliger and eat a chicken dinner. And it was no secret that both the sheriff and Uncle Telemachus wanted to marry Miss Terwilliger. She liked them both but somehow she just couldn’t seem to make up her mind.
Homer remembered that he had another job for this afternoon so he poked the fire some more to make it burn faster.
When the fire was out Homer put away the rake and hurried off to Uncle Telemachus’ house.
Homer’s Uncle Telly lived all by himself in a trim little house near the railroad. Homer’s mother always said, “It’s a shame that Uncle Telly had to live alone because he would make an ideal husband for some fine woman like Miss ‘T’.” Aunt Aggy would always answer, “But I don’t know how any fine woman could put up with his carryings on!”
By “carryings on” Aunt Aggy meant Uncle Telly’s hobby of collecting string. Yes, Uncle Telly was a string saver and he had saved string for years and years. He had quite a lot of it too. And every Thursday afternoon he would take all of the pieces of string that he had collected during the week and wind them on his huge ball out in the garage. That was one of Homer’s jobs on Thursdays, helping Uncle Telly wind string, because Uncle Telly had had a bit of rheumatism of late. You see, the ball of string was getting too large to wind without a lot of stooping and reaching.
Uncle Telly greeted Homer at the door, “Hello, Homer, we’ve got a lot to wind today!”
“That’s good, Uncle Telly, I brought a few pieces from home too!”
They went out to the garage and as Uncle Telly looked at his ball of string he said with pride, “Another quarter inch and it’ll be six feet across . . . biggest ball of string in the world.”
“Well, I don’t know, Uncle Telly,” said Homer, “Freddy’s been helping the sheriff wind his string down at the jail, and he says the sheriff’s ball of string is just about six feet across too.”
“Humph! I’ve heard tell that the sheriff winds his string loose, so’s the ball looks bigger. Mine’s wound tight,” said Uncle Telly poking the ball, “and it’s a lot longer than the sheriff’s ball of string’ll ever be.”
“Yep! I guess you’re right,” said Homer, and he began winding the string while Uncle Telly tied the pieces together in double knots.
“Wind it tight,” reminded Uncle Telly, “don’t let anybody say that my string isn’t wound right! I’ll have none of this loose, sloppy, sheriff kind of winding on my ball o’ string!”
Just as Homer and Uncle Telly were about finished there was a knock on the garage door and when Uncle Telly opened the door there stood the sheriff and Judge Shank.
“Good day, Telemachus!” said the judge.
“Howdy, Telly,” said the sheriff, trying to peer over Uncle Telly’s shoulder and see the ball of string.
“Howdy, Judge,” said Uncle Telly, and scowling at the sheriff he said, “I didn’t expect you’d be calling on me on a Thursday afternoon.”
“Ahem, Telemachus,” said the judge, “I just happened to stop in the knitting shop to drive my wife home when I met the sheriff. As you know Telly,—er Telemachus, it is necessary to cut down expenses at the fair this year, and we cannot afford to have the trotting races that we have always had. The sheriff, who like myself is on the fair board, and who, like yourself, is a string saver has suggested that he, and you, Telemachus, enter into an event that could be held on the race track, and provide the diversion that the trotting races have . . .”
“Yep!” interrupted the sheriff, “I challenge you to unroll your string around the race track, just to prove once and for all that I’ve got more string than you have.”
“Er, yes, to put it bluntly, that is the situation, Telemachus. I appeal to your sense of county pride. Do not spurn the offer. And then, of course, the winner will receive a prize . . .”
“I’ll do it, by Zeus!” said Uncle Telly. “We’ll see who’s got the most string, Sheriff! Your ball might be just as big as mine but it ain’t wound tight.” And to prove his point Uncle Telly gave his ball a kick and almost lost his balance.
“Very well, gentlemen,” said the judge, “I shall . . .”
“Wait a minute, Judge,” interrupted Uncle Telly, “I mean, I’ll do it on one condition.” (Uncle Telly was noted for driving a hard bargain and Homer wondered just what it would be.) “If I win this here
contest, the sheriff has to promise to spend his Thursday afternoons out of town and give Miss Terwilliger a chance to make up her mind to marry me.”
“Well,” said the sheriff, “in that case, if I win you’ll have to leave town on Sundays, and give Miss Terwilliger a chance to make up her mind to marry me!”
“It’s a deal,” said Uncle Telly, and he and the sheriff shook hands for the first time in years (just to clinch the bargain of course).
“Very well, gentlemen,” crooned the judge, “I shall judge this contest, and at our earliest convenience we will draw up a set of rules pertaining . . . Good day, Telemachus.”
“G’by Telly,” said the sheriff, “sorry I can’t stay but I got an appointment.”
Uncle Telly slammed the door on the sheriff and went back to tying knots.
“We’ll see!” he said, and pulled the next knot so hard that he broke the string.
“Golly, Uncle Telly,” said Homer. “That’s going to be a swell contest. I hope you win the prize.”
“Uhumpf! Prize or no prize we’ll see who’s got the most,” said Uncle Telly, “and Miss Terwilliger will get a chance to make up her mind. That woman certainly can cook!” sighed Uncle Telly with a dreamy look. Then he busied himself with his knots and said, “Now mind you, Homer, wind it tight.”
In the Friday night edition of the Centerburg Bugle Homer read a long article on the county fair, and a special announcement about the contest to determine the world’s champion string saver, and then the rules that Judge Shank had drawn up.
“Each contestant may appoint an assistant to help with the maneuvering of his ball of string.”
“The balls of string shall be unwound, i.e., rolled around the county fair race track in a counter clockwise direction, starting from the judge’s booth in front of the main grandstand.”
“The ball of string reaching around the race track the greatest number of times shall be regarded as the winning string, and that string’s owner shall be declared winner of the prize and of the title of World’s Champion String Saver. The string shall be unwound for two hours every afternoon of the week of the fair, starting at two o’clock.”
Homer read the rules and noticed that nothing was mentioned about the gentleman’s agreement between the sheriff and Uncle Telly, but that sort of news travels fast in a town the size of Centerburg, and it wasn’t long before practically everybody knew that the winner was supposed to have the hand of Miss Terwilliger in marriage.
Homer decided to go past Uncle Telly’s house and see what he thought about the rules.
Homer couldn’t help wondering what a woman who could cook fried chicken so well, and who was as clever as Miss Terwilliger would do if she heard about the agreement.
Homer found Uncle Telly trying to figure out how many miles of string were wound on his ball. He was multiplying 3.1416 by the diameter and after multiplying by several figures he asked Homer how many feet in a mile.
“Five thousand, two hundred and eighty,” said Homer.
Then Uncle Telly multiplied by four. Then he turned to Homer and said, “I figure there’s enough string to go around that race track a hundred times. Yep! Twenty-five miles of string! Just let the sheriff beat that if he can!”
“Look, Uncle Telly, here comes the judge and the sheriff again, and look who’s with them, Miss Terwilliger!”
Uncle Telly opened the door before the judge had a chance to knock, and the judge puffed in, followed by the sheriff and Miss Terwilliger.
“Ah, phuf! Ha, good day, Ha, Phuf! Telemachus, Haah! We have a new contestant for the title of World’s Champion String Saver!” puffed the judge.
Miss Terwilliger blushed and giggled while Uncle Telly backed around to the other side of the room and raised his eyebrows at the sheriff in a way that asked, “Did you tell her about the agreement?” The sheriff shrugged his shoulders and wiggled his mustache that showed he was just as puzzled as Uncle Telly.
Miss Terwilliger (if she did know about the agreement) wasn’t admitting it. “Isn’t it wonderful,” she said to Uncle Telemachus and the sheriff, “that we have so much in common?”
“Yes,” she tittered, “I’ve been a savin’ string for the past fifteen years! All of the colored yarn and odds and ends from knitting classes. I have a beautiful ball of yarn, all colors of the rainbow.”
“Splendid!” said the judge, rubbing his hands together. “Simply splendid, Miss Terwilliger!”
“But Judge,” interrupted Uncle Telly anxiously.
“Do you think,” said the sheriff, nudging the judge, and winking frantically, “that a woman should enter into a sing of this thort, I mean, thing of this sort?”
“Splendid!” continued the judge, ignoring these interruptions. “The American female is beginning to find her rightful place in the business and public life of this nation. The sheriff and Telemachus and I deeply appreciate your public spirit, Miss Terwilliger, and I’m sure that the county fair will be an unprecedented success.”
“Come, Judge,” said Miss Terwilliger with a smile, “I must get back to my knitting shop. Good-by Sheriff, good-by Telemachus, I’ll see you on Sunday.”
After the judge and Miss Terwilliger were gone the sheriff and Uncle Telly each accused the other of telling about the agreement. They finally calmed down and decided that the judge had double crossed them with his fancy speech about “woman’s rights.”
“But Uncle Telly,” said Homer, “there couldn’t be three balls of string in the world as large as yours and the sheriff’s.”
“You’re wrong, son!” said the sheriff with a sigh. “Her ball of string’s bigger than mine! She’s a clever woman, son, a very clever woman.”
“If she wins,” said Uncle Telly gloomily, “we’ll be right back where we started from, waiting forever for her to make up her mind.”
* * *
During the next week the whole county got excited about the contest to determine the world’s champion string saver. Everybody started saving string for their favorite contestant. The ladies in Miss Terwilliger’s knitting classes reported that Miss Terwilliger was knitting a brand new dress for the occasion. When Homer’s mother heard this she called Aunt Aggy and said, “We should do something about Uncle Telly. You know how men are about clothes. They can hardly tell one dress or suit from another.” The next day they dragged Uncle Telly down town and picked out a nice new and very becoming plaid suit for him. The sheriff said, “If they’re going to make a shashion fow, I mean fashion show, out of this thing I can dress up, too!” He sent away special delivery to Chicago and ordered an expertly fashioned double-breasted Hollywood model suit. On the day before the fair started, Homer went up to Miss Terwilliger’s with the sheriff to see them take her ball of string out of the house. Mr. Olson, the carpenter, had to take out the side of the house because the ball just wouldn’t go through the door. When the moving men rolled it out and on to the truck, the sheriff said, “That’s as purty a ball a string as I’ve ever seen. It’s got a toman’s woutch! I mean a woman’s touch!”
Just then Uncle Telly walked up and agreed, “It’s awful pretty, being all colors of the rainbow, but it ain’t wound tight. It’s so soft you can poke your fist right into it.”
“Yes, but yarn stretches purty much,” said the sheriff unhappily.
The day the fair opened the grandstand was crowded and people stood half-way around the track when the contestants and their assistants started unrolling their string. Miss Terwilliger’s new pink dress and the sheriff’s and Uncle Telly’s new suits caused much favorable comment from the ladies present. The men were more interested in the string, but as Homer’s mother said, “They can hardly tell one dress or suit from another.” Miss Terwilliger and the sheriff and Uncle Telly were hot and tired after the first two times around the track and so were their assistants. So the judge had some of the regular county fair employees roll the balls while the contestants rode around the track alongside in the sheriff’s car.
After the f
irst afternoon’s unrolling, Miss Terwilliger’s ball measured 5′9″; the sheriff’s measured ; Uncle Telly’s 5′8″. Uncle Telly and the sheriff were very uneasy. At the end of the second day the sheriff’s and Miss Terwilliger’s 5′; Uncle Telly’s . Uncle Telly felt a little better, and so did the sheriff.
The measurements at the end of the next to the last day of the fair were Uncle Telly and the sheriff running , and Miss Terwilliger only , and each contestant’s ball of string had unrolled around the track ninety-nine times.
Uncle Telly and the sheriff were feeling pretty confident now, and each one was sure of winning the title of world’s champion string saver and the hand of the clever Miss Terwilliger.
On the last day of the contest everybody in Center County was on hand early. The contestants were going to roll their balls of string around the track themselves. The sheriff and Uncle Telly were all dressed up for the occasion but Miss Terwilliger was not wearing her new knit dress. The ladies noticed right away that she was wearing the old robin’s-egg-blue one that she had saved all these years. She started off carrying her ball in a gay little basket and a parasol to protect her from the autumn sun. She marched right off at 2:00 with her string trailing behind her.
Most everybody knew that Miss Terwilliger’s ball was less across than the sheriff’s or Uncle Telly’s and they admired her confidence and her spirit, but they all knew that she couldn’t win.
Uncle T. and the sheriff, each feeling confident, were taking it slow. They watched each other like hawks, and they unwound their string right up against the fence and checked up on each other’s knots. They hadn’t even gotten a quarter of the way around when Miss Terwilliger was at the half-way mark.
Homer could see her walking right along wearing her robin’s-egg-blue dress with the pink trim at the bottom, carrying her basket and the parasol to protect her from the autumn sun. The sheriff and Telly were half-way around still checking every knot and stretching their string as tight as they dared against the fence.
Homer Price Page 4