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situation wnicn called tor supreme resourcefulness. In a twinkling he made himself as thin as a snake and slipped right out between the slats of the truck. By the time he hit the ground, a strange magic had restored his 300 pounds which now powered him past six frantic but futile grasping hands that were eager to do, but didn’t.
Somebody said, “There goes your mother-in-law’s calf,” and two other people added things that curled Gideon’s black hair as he raced for cover, and which burned real hot on the end that followed him. Beckoning the escapee ahead was a four-acre patch of Joe pie weed, goldenrod, and ragweed interlaced with mild morning glory and honeysuckle, too thick for bird cover and rabbit hunting, but just right for Gideon. Profitable summer rains had shot the stuff up six and seven feet high forming graphic evidence that something got in the way of the man that was going to bush-hog that sorry patch weeks ago.
Now it was Gideon against the establishment and the two women and the man moved in pursuit. Situations such as this have always brought forward the finest in human character and there’s a fiber found in dependable women, that when put to the test, defies all danger and hardship and leaves men standing up, eyes and respect pointing upward. Molly Pitcher showed her stuff as she manned a silent cannon at Bunker Hill during the Revolutionary War; Joan D’Arc chalked up her mark as she led her French to victory, and whether it’s nursing a weak baby at 3 a.m. or hiving a bunch of swarming bees, the courage and ingenuity of women will always come surging to the top.
So while Lottie (fictitious
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