(The Harvest Ball, that is....)
It was a late autumn afternoon in November, the 25th to be exact. I was standing in the cornfield soaking up the sunshine. It was on an ordinary day, peaceful and quiet. At least it was until a certain green and creme-colored Plymouth came down the road and stopped. Before I knew what was happening, a whole bunch of girls piled out and started pulling me and my fellow corn stalks up by our roots. Little did I know, as they threw the roots first through the windows, that this was to be the turning point in my life.
However, it didn't take long for me to realize the excitement in store for me and my buddies from the field. I'll never know how we survived that ride into town with all the dodging and rushing that we did!
By listening to the girls' conversation I gathered that we were to be used for some sort of dance. I thought to myself, Who in the world would want to dance with a clumsy stalk-like me? Why I'm still green behind the ears."
From closer observation, I learned the girls names. It seems that the high school was well represented having at least one girl from every grade. The seniors there were: Mary C., a dizzy blonde; Shirley H., the one who kept pulling on my ears, and Delia D., who had a death grip on the pile of us. The only junior there was Betty Mc., but she squirmed enough for ten people. Two sophomores, Kay S. and Joyce B. kept playing peek-a-boo over us and those two freshmen , Myrtle L. and Jackie M. were forever giggling at our shadows on the highway and poking me in the side.
Well, one thing's for sure, this has been the most exciting event I can remember happening since I was a little sprout. Here comes the unloading. Wham! Have no fear, that's only the sound of me and my friends hitting the ground. Yes, they had the nerve to throw us out the window.
I was so dazed from the blow that I didn't awaken until some time later. Only a mummie could have slept thought that noise! There was loud music coming from the front of the room. "Calling All Cows Down to the Barn, "were the only words I could hear. It made me feel right at home.
But I'm really not, though. Just look at this place! My fellow cornstalks are tied to post and there are funny little grapes, pumpkins, and trinkets hanging from strings over their heads. Well, I really haven't got any room to talk. They made me into a scarecrow. Across from me is another scarecrow, a boy setting in a wheelbarrow. Personally, I think these bales of hay are much more comfortable for reclining. I have the funniest feeling that I'm being stared at. It couldn't be the boys and girls. They're all dancing. Oh, now I see you. There is a big, fat yellow moon winking down on me. He seems to be enjoying the whole affair, so I think I'll be quiet and let you listen to the festivity.
"Bobby, I think that scarecrow looks just like you. Did you pose for it?"
"Alright, Kay, just because you're on a diet, you don't have to take it out on me. Ups, please don't hit me, Stewart! I apologize! (famous last words)
Saved by the special! Everyone is running around like they are crazy. Uh, Oh! Somebody collided!
"Oh, excuse me, Janice. I didn't see you."
"Ugly horse, Jacky. You were just trying to run away so you couldn't have to dance with me. But I like you though. I promise!"
Well, I hate to keep interrupting, but these folks sure do tickle me. They keep calling each other horses, but the look like ordinary humans to me, even if they do act kinda funny. I wonder what's the name of this place I'm in anyway. Oh, here's the intermission program. Maybe they'll tell me.
"Howdy friends and neighbors. This is your Grand Ole Oprey sponsored by your Purina dealer, Neal O'Neil Incorporated coming to you from the S.F.X.A. Cow Barn."
So that's where I am. I wonder if the S.F.X.A. means, "Sore Fit X-amined and Attended. Could be, the way those folk are wearing those great, big floppy boots. They look like something the cows drug in on their way down to the barn. It looks like everyone else thinks they're funny too, because they sure are laughing hard, especially when they cracked that advertisement about Norbert and syndicated, "Listen to the Goony Ard" to little Willy back at Cooke's Crossing.
What do you know, they finally got down to the eating part of the party. If I were a real girl instead of a scarecrow, I'd rack up on those cookies and drinks.
Look at all those pretty dresses! I feel slighted in my rags. Since I've been listening long enough to know their names, let me tell you what some of them are wearing.
Josephine Nohra looks just like a peasant girl in her black skirt printed with orange marigolds and her matching orange blouse and cumber bun.
There goes Janice Calcote whirling in her full, red, felt skirt and matching red plaid blouse. Her come Joy Canizaro cutting in. She looks cute as pie in her pumpkin-colored peasant blouse and her skirt of aqua with the multi-colored printed figures.
In fact, everyone looks as if they're having a great time, and so am I, but there goes the last dance. Well folks, this has been the first and will probably be the last time I'll go to a Harvest Ball. In spite of all the rough riding, I really have enjoyed this dance and I want to congratulate everyone who helped to make it the big success that it was.
There to the last of the couples; there go the lights; and here I go back to the cornfield. So long!
(Taken from the Maryon)
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