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Show 216 Even Uncle Ase came back as Mama had predicted, walking home along the railroad tracks from Emory County during the depression, a little apprehensive about his reception. Mama's pity for him and the r e membrance of her promise to his mother overcame any annoyance. He took up where he left off, eating peas and mashed potatoes with his knife and issuing his encyclopedic statements: "On the twenty-fourth of March, 1924, I was out in Emory County and a woman had her arms around my neck. " Another Nettie, no doubt. The proof was in the picture he carried in his pocket, a group of young folks, clowning, a pretty girl posing with her mock beau: Uncle Ase. My brothers and sisters selected mates with the usual romantic flights into poesy, the accompanying anguish. After my marriage, Macel came next. She met Ellis Anderson in Oak City, place of Mama's birth, was excited about him until she went away to college and he sent her the biggest apple he had raised as a Christmas present. It didn't compete with the candy and flowers she was receiving from more sophisticated beaux, but when he promptly took the hint from her coldness she repented and pined for him. Reprieve came when she and Revo, on their way to school, met him on a Salt Lake City street, between buses. As Revo reported it: "Well, hello. How are you?" quoted Macel. "I'm fine. How are you?" Ellis reported. "I'm fine. How are you?" Macel informed him. "I'm fine. How are you?" |