By Thanksgiving Itll Be Funny Polly Tooker

ISBN: 9781413433388

Published:

Hardcover

328 pages


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By Thanksgiving Itll Be Funny  by  Polly Tooker

By Thanksgiving Itll Be Funny by Polly Tooker
| Hardcover | PDF, EPUB, FB2, DjVu, talking book, mp3, ZIP | 328 pages | ISBN: 9781413433388 | 7.79 Mb

Polly Tooker, By Thanksgiving Itll Be Funny Polly Tookers memoirs come in a variety of sizes, settings, and flavors. Here, for your tasting pleasure, are a few excerpts. From Always the Green Hills, an account of the authors childhood summers inMorePolly Tooker, By Thanksgiving Itll Be Funny Polly Tookers memoirs come in a variety of sizes, settings, and flavors.

Here, for your tasting pleasure, are a few excerpts. From Always the Green Hills, an account of the authors childhood summers in rural Vermont during the twenties and thirties: One summer a carful of the grown-ups - out of curiosity, rather than religious fervor, Im sure - went down to Camp Meeting. These week-long evangelistic gatherings were held in a huge tent set up on the White River Campgrounds, with a hayshed out back for the horses and wagons. Our little group was apparently unmoved by the sermon but much impressed by the uninhibited responses of Amen Amen and Save the brother shouted out spontaneously during the service.

For the rest of the summer, when an announcement came from the kitchen, as, Another canner finished - thats fourteen quarts of tomatoes done the Greek chorus on the porch, arms upflung and fingers fluttering, would cheer, Bless the sister Bless the sister Grandpa gave it as his opinion that more souls were made in the hayshed than were saved in the tent, and Im sure the chorus responded, Amen, Brother * * * Several times during a summer we would pile into the car and go to a matinee in White River, five miles away.

My grandmother never missed a Shirley Temple or Broadway Melodies movie. On the way home, our car didnt always make the grade at Jericho Hill on the first try, and Mother would have to back down the hill and make another run at it. As a last resort, we would climb out to lighten the load and walk up the slope. As we stopped at the top to catch our breath, we could see Jericho laid out before us like a picturepostcard - red barns, white houses, and neat, stone-walled rectangles of pasture and woodland.

And beyond them, always, the green hills. From Melodies and Memories, following the thread of music in the fabric of he



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