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Show 44 Already Robert has learned one of the chief motivational forces in the world; never underestimate the power of Jane over Dick. A sweet request, boastfully granted. From great-grandson Robert to great-grandfather Guilym Ddu is not so far. A gene or two, a so-called talent, and plenty of work will bridge the gap. Oh, yes. The work! Papa taught me to work; moreover, he taught me how to work. He was like Brigham Young; he knew how to do everything, the right way. I never saw him wash dishes, but passing the sink one day, seeing me scrub a plate with a wadded-up dishrag, he took it from my hands, dipped it in the hot suds and passed it, plentifully wet, over the plate, which came out sparkling. He showed me how to turn the broom to get at the corners and along the baseboards to best advantage. When I was five, he inducted me into the beet-thinner's army, at my request, I shamefacedly admit. I was a stupid child, but this was a great occasion for me. It meant being decked out in a pair of Eldon's outgrown overalls, a shirt several sizes too large and a wide-brimmed straw hat. The most sophisticated of my gear consisted of knee-pads, made by Mama from an old denim overalls leg, stuffed with cotton and tied above and below my knees with four attached strings. Papa made a hoe out of a six-inch length of broomstick and a strip of thin strap-iron, bent to a triangle, the ends attached to the handle. He sharpened the straight edges on the grindstone, with me pouring the water to keep it cool. We jolted toward the farm in the wagon, across the river, and I was one of the big kids, like Eldon. |
