A 'SMALL POX' SCARE

     My brother, Lon, and I could work together at anything and not laugh. We took a job together hauling thirty inch blocks as big as the timber grew.  We went for our first load one cold morning when the ground was frozen about six inches. When we started to load his wagon, I told him that he had better drop the traces on his team, for I knew when we started to roll up a big block on the skid poles, the old mule, Pete, would make a lunge and pull the skid poles out and let the block fall.  "No,"  he said, "Those mules will not move."  Sure enough, about the time we had the first bolt half way up the skids almost the old mules took a quick lunge and pulled the wagon out from under the skids.  Down came skid, block and all.  One of the skid poles fell on Lon's big toe and mashed his toe nail.  That is when I got a laugh!  He grabbed up his mashed foot and danced around and around.  Finally it stopped hurting him and we continued to load our wagon.  When we got pretty close to the mill, I made a bad drive and got off in a deep rut.  We decided it would be too big of a job to unload, so I went and cut a prying pole.  I was trying to pry it up so Lon could put a chunk under the wheel.  I was not heavy enough to lift the wagon with such a load.  We were stalled in front of a neighbor's who had the small pox.  I never thought of him leaving his sick bed to come out and sit on the pole with me.  I was sitting on the pry pole, doing all I could to lift the wagon to where Lon could put the chunk under the wheel.  All at once the pole went to the ground.  This neighbor had seen me trying so hard that he got out of bed to come out and help me.  I looked around behind me and there he was beside me on the pole.  I told him that I had a notion to take up a club and knock his head off.  That he scared me out of my wits.  I sure thought that I would

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