Walking home from church this morning and oh what a lovely day it was. The sun was a shining and there were lots of little powder puff clouds floating by. The birds were in full voice as if they had been the choir, for Sunday mornings in the village is a lazy one. Durn! Mr. Will has another hound, gosh that must make ten or twelve; durn thing barks as if he had a frog in his throat. And shucks, Mrs. Minton's son is visiting today for there is his Lincoln Town Car.

I cut across in back of Squire Bigg's house and was walking along the road down by the tracks when I looked over at Mrs. Burf's house. It was typical for the road down by the tracks, cause there was Uncle Charlie's shack, then the Cudzoo patch, and the Richards old house, and Oh yes, Lewis Chilton was living in it. Heck I always wondered why it didn't fall down cause it was built on a steep bank and the floors really creaked, and heck, Mrs. Richards was and overly plump lady.

The rest of the houses don't mean much for Mrs. Burf's house is an old gray clapboard one, built just afore the turn of the century, turn of the century. Heck, that makes that old clapboard house a hundred years old. Yeah, Mrs. Burf's house is a century house, ha ha. But what struck me funny was that there beside the front door on the long porch which ran completely across the front of the house, and also around the East end, were three black umbrellas.

Now ladies, but not all ladies, usually carry their umbrellas cause one never knows when a quick shower will blow up. But heck here it was a nice sunny Sunday morning with the sun a shining and only a few powder puff clouds in the sky. And there on Mrs. Burf's front porch were three large black umbrellas, opened and dripping water.

Now we haven't had any rain in nearly two weeks now. It has been so hot and dry that there hasn't been enough dew to wet a cat's whiskers. So three black umbrellas, opened and dripping water puzzled me!

I just stopped and looked as if I could look at them and tell to whom they belonged; shucks must be forty or fifty umbrellas like that around the village. But then maybe they were not from the village for the eight o'clock passengers trains, the East bound and the West bounds had stopped at the station this morning. Wonder if someone came from away from here and it was raining there?

I was so puzzled that I just walked over to the railroad and sat down on the tracks. I undid my shoe as if I had a gravel in it, and I just sat there a fiddling with it and looking at those umbrellas. Shucks one of them had a silver looking handle but the other two looked like the regular old black handles. And all three were in good shape, not one torn panel on any of the three.

All at once I felt a rumble and I looked and here came a train, and crazy me was a sitting on the tracks. Just as the Engineer blew the whistle, I jumped up and got off the tracks. Durn next time I will just sit in the dirt and do my thinking.

About then I realized the time and knew I had to get home for Sunday dinner. Sunday dinner at my house was a big affair for we all sat down and usually had some company of some sort, so we ate in the dining room. Now eating in the dining room at my house is an affair, for when the big table is set, there are always peach pickles, beet pickles and cucumber pickles, plus normally ma makes homemade rolls. Those cloverleaf rolls. I love to take the brownest ones and really butter them, then sit and eat pickles and rolls and think about dessert.

Today the whole family was there and after grace pa and ma both asked me what was a bothering me. I said, "Coming home from church on Mrs. Burf's front porch were three large black umbrellas open and dripping water." Ma asked me all sorts of questions and when she paused to breathe, then pa asked me questions. Shucks I wish I had not told them for my rolls were getting cold and I don't like cold rolls with butter on them.

Sis said that they'd had a shower in Salem, and Brother said it rained down South Boston way on Friday. But pa just shook his head and I could tell pa was a thinking, and when pa thinks there are forty leben thousand things a running through his head. For my pa is a smart one when he sets his minds to it; yes sir he is a real smart man when he wants to be.

Shucks it didn't seem like no time till the plates were taken away and it was dessert time. Land oh goshens, today it was my favorite, butterscotch cream with coconut, and the meringue was piled real high. Hope I can get a second piece. Maybe I can for I didn't act up or do anything bad at the table. Yeah, maybe ma will let me have a second piece. Oh but then if she does let me have a second piece, pa won't have any for his lunch tomorrow, and I know pa really loves a piece of pie in his lunch. Matter of fact pa says a hot cup of good coffee and a good piece of pie is a good as it gets. But pa is a grown up and he does tell a lot of fibs.

After dinner pa asked if I would like to walk over by the tracks. I knew he meant walk over and see if those three umbrellas were still there. Heck they would be dry by now anyhow, but I liked to walk with pa, just he and I. Now that was fun cause we talked about things that only men talk about, not any of that kid stuff.

As we crossed the tracks and looked at Mrs. Burf's front porch, we noticed there were no black umbrellas. But there were four blue ones, and all were dripping water. Now even pa knows it isn't raining round here abouts. We looked and then pa and I walked on down and pa talked to Uncle Charlie about some work. Then we went home.

I had a hard time sleeping, much less doing my lessons, for there was school tomorrow, and because I was talking when I was not supposed to, Mrs. Grum had told me to write a three page essay. And all I could think of was those black then blue umbrellas on Mrs. Burf's front porch.

I sharpened my pencil and wrote about going to church and about those umbrellas, and about me and pa taking a walk. That was all I had done, but when I put a bunch of questions and ma and pa's reasons why the questions were not valid, I had a four page paper. So I went to bed.

Next morning just after the prayer and the Pledge of Allegiance, Mrs. Grum called upon me to read my essay, the one I was supposed to write about not talking.

Oh lordy me, I had written the wrong thing, so I told her that I had written about my Sunday and had forgotten the other. She said read it anyhow, and I did. When I got done, Jean Burf raised her hand, and when Mrs. Grum called on her, Jean stood up. "The answer is simple for my Momma got a contract for cleaning umbrellas for Ippy Johnson down in Bedford."