Bloemaker, Skip

English

Digital Commons @ Butler University

A Letter to Pogo(IN THE STYLE OF WALT KELLY)Peggy EdwardsOkeefenokee Extra SpecialDear Pogo.This here crittur, name of Porkypine, just wish to convey its deepapprcshiashun for the top-notch time that was had by all at yo' fish-Iry and stomp.Churchy and Porky (name of me) had us a humdinger of aconfab on the way home. Mr. Racketty Coon deposited me on myown everiovin' doorstep about middle day, safe, sound, and chonkfull of happiness and cinnamon-type balls. All ten toe-bones is gettin'a Ii'l rest; but they also claims they had fun, even if'n they wasthrowed out of their natural-born joints.A pretty sizeable hunk of excitingments was carryin' on when Igot home. Lumpy Looie's li'l tad nephew had upped and got hisselflost in the batter of a raisin cake, an' Miz Frog kep' on a' fishin'out raisins a' stead of her own everlovin' tad. Man, how terribobbleit would've been if'n she hadn't cotched him. 01' Looie was beginnin'to get quite a worry on him.Li'l Grundoon, the groun'chuck chile, stilI has the bitin'est set ofnatural-born tooth-bones I ever seed. -Bit 01' Albert's ceegar in twoplaces and guv it a mortal ache.Miz Manzelle Hepzibah and Boll Weevil enjoyed the circusmagnet's perloo-you know 01' P. T. Bridgeport the circus fellerwith the drummer named Floyd, don't you? 'Write to me when 01' Homer Pidgeon starts his south to northmail delivery in the summer. I will send you postern card from theEast Okeefenokee when I go over for a couple weeks to visit myUncle Baldwin.Profound reegards fromPorky-Pine, Esq.(writ by han'.)"Button, Button~1ISkip BloemkerTo THE unobservant, bu~tons are button,s. But to those who knowthem, buttons are as different as people. The common work-a-day buttons are round, flat, and white. Their centers are piercedby two to four small holes used for sewing them on garments. Thiseveryday group earns its living by holding together the various,ordinary garments of human beings. "l\IAN USCJ{ll'TS ()lLess conservative are the middle class buttons which sport brightand varied colors and are of different sizes and shapes. These flashybuttons amuse themselves by playing follow the leader on prettyblouses and dresses.The aristocrats of the button clan are often made of gold, silver,crystal, and other precious substances. They try to out-do one anotherby adorning themselves with rhine-stones and pearls which flash andsparkle on chic, high fashion clothes.. Members of a dying generation are the shoe buttons. The dictatesof fashion occasionally bring them back into existence as membersof the fashionable clan, but their number is steadily decreasing.Other members of the button tribe are the colJar button, theelevator button, and the black sheep of the family-the Dewey button.Buttons, like hobos and children, are very fond of wandering.They also like to play games. Some of the buttons' favorite gamesare called "Popping Off," "Hide and Come Seek," and "Who MissesMe?" Buttons most enjoy their playtime when the button-weareris already fifteen minutes late for an important engagement. It is atsuch times that buttons are often replaced by safety pins.To the unobservant, safety pins are safety pins. But to those whoknow them. . . .SpringCarol ManwaringSCENERY is no longer ethereal. The pleasant mystery of the whiteis over. There is an awkward stage of transition everywhere.There is no heraldry of summer. Not yet. There is no cheerypromise of that which is to come; only the ugly reminder of thatwhich was beautiful a few days ago. White crystals are now blackmud, unpleasant and inconvenient. Trees, whose branches had beenlaid barren for the explicit purpose of receiving the bounty of win-ter, are barren now without purpose. Their branches hang limply,overcome by the weight of the struggling sap. A few bilious yellowcrocuses try to shout the message. Lacking the volume needed tomake themselves heard, they surrender to their environment. Thebrown, patchy grass surrounding them wilts their exuberance. Un-happy robins and cardinals, dirty, muted in color and voice, picktheir ways distastefully across mires that once were lawns. Theyfind food scant and tasteless. The clingy grass, insulted by its ag-gressors' appearance, is impervious to making itself more desirable.Earthworms, tricked by the concealing beauty of the night, lie list-lessly, pink and bloated on sidewalks. This is the beginning of Spring.Then, suddenly, the grass seems to resent the tweaking of thebirds. Its color rises, and its blades bristle upward. The silt of thepuddles finds a certain affection for the rocks at the bottom and

Button, Button--

https://digitalcommons.butler.edu/cgi/viewcontent.cgi?article=2208&amp;context=manuscripts

Button, Button--

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