Block · one region of the page, as the scanner read it. It may hold a whole story, part of one, several, or an advertisement; stitching blocks into articles is the next step. Text is supplied OCR.
Page 12 · column 1 of 5 · from the scan, no model involved
When I perched myself in the platform rocker Sunday night to read the Washington Post, / had flipped just a couple of pages and there staring at me from Aubrey Graves column leas Newt Rowzic, •a Rappahannock native, with his mouth wtde open, shoving into it the biggest fork full of cresses I have ever seen. L
Homer and Newton Rowzie are both originally from Rappahannock County, the sons of the late Mr. and Mrs. Maurice Rowzie of Amissville. Their brother Ralph
Rowzie still resides at the home place and is the only person l know who eats cold cress salad for a midnight snack or for breakfast.
Below is a reprint of Country Livin' by Aubrey Craves, Squire of Grigsby Hill, who is a columnist for the IVashington Post.
''That old wheeze, “you can take ^he boy out of the country, but you can’t take the country out of the boy,” certainly applies to my genial neighbor, Homer Rowzie.
They took Homyr out of Amissville, Va., a quarter of a century or so ago, but they couldn’t separate him from his taste for creasey ■greens.
For a living, our perennial country boy engages in arithmetical exercises over at the Government accounting Office, keeping track of who spends how much of the tax payers’ money for what.
Outside the office, he has three big enthusiasms, rated roughly in t&i$ order: U *^Tiat delectable member of the mustard family hereinbefore mentwfiwl.
y^*An Alaskan Malamute, which ( throws a ball that Homer retrieves, and •Frances, his cherished bride of
64.4%