HARRY S. TRUMAN by George E. Stanley

Author:George E. Stanley
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: ALADDIN PAPERBACKS
Published: 2004-07-15T00:00:00+00:00

A Bad Accident

“Harry!”

Harry looked up from the woodpile, where he had been splitting chunks of wood into sticks for the stove. Caroline Simpson, the family’s black cook—whom Harry and Vivian sometimes called Aunt Caroline—was standing at the back door, hands on her hips. “Yes, Aunt Caroline? What’s the matter?”

“I need some of that wood you’ve been chopping out there,” Aunt Caroline said. “I’ll never get this bread baked if you and Vivian don’t hurry up!”

“We’ve chopped almost enough for you,” Harry called to her. “Five more minutes, okay?”

“Well, okay,” Aunt Caroline said. With that, she closed the back door, and Harry and Vivian went back to splitting the wood.

Harry and Vivian took turns swinging their axes into a chunk of wood to make a split in one end. Next they put the blade of an iron wedge in the split and tapped it several times with the blunt side of the ax. After that, they gave the wedge a solid blow with the blunt side of the ax, which caused the chunk to split in half. They repeated this with each smaller piece of wood until Harry thought they would go into the stove easily and not be too thick to burn. Then they brought the wood into the house.

Harry liked nothing better than to be in the kitchen when Aunt Caroline was baking, whether it was bread or pies or cakes. He thought Aunt Caroline had to be the best cook in the world, and she told Harry exactly what she was doing and why it was important.

“If you don’t do it this way Harry” she was always saying, “then it won’t be fit to eat.”

At that moment, the back door opened again, and Aunt Caroline stood there looking at them.

Quickly, Harry and Vivian gathered up as much stove wood as they could carry and ran for the back porch. Aunt Caroline held the door open, but she didn’t say anything, and Harry could tell by the expression on her face that she was a little annoyed at them.

“Vivian, why don’t you go pick up the sticks that we dropped?” Harry suggested. “I’ll help Aunt Caroline put the wood in the stove.”

Aunt Caroline took a deep breath and said, “Harry S. Truman, if you weren’t such a gentleman, I’d be angry with you right now, because I’m off my baking schedule by several minutes.”

“I’m sorry,” Harry said. “This wood seems a little tougher than what Papa got last month.”

“Well, I’ll accept that excuse this time,” Aunt Caroline said, “but next time you’ll have to start splitting the wood sooner.”

Harry winked at Mary Jane, who was in the corner of the kitchen, churning butter.

When Vivian got back with the sticks they had dropped, he was out of breath.

“I guess the two of you are all tuckered out from working so hard,” Aunt Caroline said. “I think I have just the remedy for that.”

“What?” Vivian asked.

“I just took a fresh batch of bread out of the oven,” Aunt Caroline said. “How does a slice of that sound to you?”

“Delicious!” Harry said.

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