Verhovayak Lapja, 1941. július-december (24. évfolyam, 27-52. szám)
1941-11-13 / 46. szám
Verhovavak Labia Page 4 The Fine Art of Paperhanging By Betty Carol Balega November 13, 1941 What's News at Branch 371? Gary, Indiana Ever since I was a child, the work of a paperhanger fascinated me. To me there is something admirable about a man who can dress up ugly, bare walls until they look like a deb at a coming-out party ... and you must admit their work consists of the combined efforts of a Houdini and a Max Factor. Dexterity and beauty with a dash of Superman every so often! Have you ever watched a paperhanger closely? Oh, you have? Well, then I suppose the following paragraphs won’t be anything new to you ... but.. I promised my paperhanger I’d write this story in return for a favor he did for me, so whether you know all about the subject or not, here goes: We recently decided to have a whole section of our home done over, much to my glee. Now I could watch the process of paperhanging to my heart’s content. The morning of the “big day” dawned crisp and clear. It was one of those swell mornings when you can get the shower adjusted as soon as you get under the spray, you know what I mean, you’ve surely had one or two mornings like that in your life. Soon our man of the hour arrived. We’ll call him “Joe” for the simple reason that Joe is his name. He arrived complete with ladders, brushes, a collapsable table and everything else that a man of his career needs, and the work began! I observed his every movement through the combined lengths of a hall and stairway and, as usual, was filled with amazement as he closely imitated a human fly in some spots and the man of the flying trapeze in other spots. By the time he finished the stairway, I began to feel as though I knew all about hanging paper, too. I could feel the change taking place in my character. No longer was I just a timid, admiring onlooker. I felt daring! adventurous! “Very elementary, my dear Watson,” I said to myself. “All you have to do is brush the paper with the paste, fold the paper four times, and put it up.” Then the thought came to me: Since this defense and army business has removed a lot of the men paperhangers from the every day ranks, why not women paperhangers? There may be more of a future in that than in writing! After all, there are women barbers, mechanics and truck drivers, so why not? With this thought foremost in my mind, I bravely approached Joe. Could I hang just one strip of paper in my study, and if not why not? After all, it was MY study. Now right here most of you (if you decide to follow my procedure to get in a bit of practice) are going to run into trouble, as nine paperhangers out of ten will tell you to go take a quick jump into Lake Erie. But Joe has known me for many years and, I suppose, is accustomed to such sudden outbursts of ... I’ll call it wild ambition. So we struck a bargain. He would let me try my hand at his art provided I would write a story about my efforts. All well and good,, or was it? I very delicately picked up the brush and dipped it into the bucket of paste. Joe looked at me with something akin to pity in his eyes. “You don’t have to be so dainty about it,” he said. “It’s not an oil painting! Put some paste on the paper.” All right, mister, you asked for it. I dipped again and began to splash! Joe groaned. “O. K. O. K. That’s enough. You’re not painting the Queen Mary!” A bit chagrined, I gave him a look of cold disdain. Talking to me as though 1 didn’t know what I was doing. Huh! I calmly folded the paper as I had seen him do. And, please believe me, that is the one thing I did right... fold the paper. But otherwise... oh! But before I go any further I must tell you about the new theme in my study. It’s a Hunt Scene, and very sporty, too. The only trouble is the whole thing has to be put together like a jigsaw puzzle. You know, they cut a horse’s head off on one piece of paper, and a few of the hounds are sawed in half; then the idea is to make certain you get the rest of the horse on the horse and not connect it to the hounds. Heh, heh. I bravely climbed the ladder. Don’t they always say “Fools rush in...”? That goes for me, too. Placing the top of the paper at the ceiling, I tried to shake out the folds as Joe did. Funny how it behaved for him. Pathetic ... its reactions to my efforts. Oh my, surely some of my readers can appreciate my predicament. There I was high, but not so dry, on a ladder with a piece of paper that wouldn’t shake! Then all of a sudden—swish— there it went! Did you ever have a piece of wet wall paper cling to your bare Jeg? Awful clammy, isn’t it? I finally got the brushing process started (that’s to make the paper stick to the wall, I suppose) ... and ... you’ve guessed it... my hounds all had reins on them! I will admit, I almost gave up right there and then, but I must have some Spartan blood in me for I continued the fight. Needless to trouble you with the various and sundry details. I get tired just thinking of them again. All that matters is the fact that the paper was finally hung ... and I almost stepped into the bucket of paste in my descent from the ladder. Again I could feel the change taking place in my character. No longer was I the daring, adventurous soul... No sir! ... I’m still more than happy to be a timid, admiring onlooker! Halloween came with a bang and left quietly, and with it went all of those terrifying ghosts and goblins which roamed about everywhere on that hectic night of October 31st, scaring everyone out of six years growth, who had the misfortune of crossing their paths. Now that I’m quite sure of their departure for at least another year, I can come out of my hiding place, steady my wobbling knees, and start writing my article in earnest, with no interference from those ghastly creatures. Even with the fast approaching important holidays, the subject of war and the Army still seems to hold the interest of the people in general, so I’ve decided more or less to dedicate this month’s article to our branch members in the service. Good jobs these lads have. They make $21.00 a day, once a month! Most of our eligible young men already have ' been “caught in the Draft.” With the boys all gone, I wonder what the poor girls will do for boy friends and escorts? You know, it’s really amazing how many various “Sewing Clubs” have been formed in recent months. I wonder why? Oh well, I might as well confess, the one I joined is called the “Nimble Thimble Club.” Sounds convincing, even if we aren’t quite as handy with needles and crochet hooks as we should be. They say practice makes perfect, so now’s the chance to live up to that motto, when everyone has plenty of time. But let’s get back to the boys, this is their show after all. Members who most recently joined Uncle Sam’s great big family include the following: That handsome chap, John Farkas, Jr., who left his parents, sisters, little brother and about a dozen broken hearts a few weeks ago to do his share towards defending our Country. I haven’t as yet obtained John’s military address, but I presume it’s somewhere in Mississippi or Texas, since those are the places the majority of Indiana boys are sent. I understand John Kovach is down at Fort Ben in Indianapolis, where he is enrolled in the United States Army school for cakers and cooks, to learn the culinary art, Uncle Sam’s style. This is, incidentally, the same school my own soldier brother was graduated from about a year ago. We have several members who are soldiers, but no sailors. Correction! We didn’t have, not until John Peleskey, Jr., enlisted for four years service. “Junior,” who is the son of John Peleskey, President of Branch 138, was sent to the Great Lakes Naval Base for his training. In the name of our branch, I wish the three Johns the best of luck and happiness in the future, and hope their careers as soldiers and sailors will be successful ones. While I’m still on the subject of buck privates, I’d like to extend my good wishes to one of my fellow contributors, the Journal’s No. I ‘‘funny-bone tickler,” none other than John “Dirk” Fulop, who by this time is busy taking orders from some hard-boiled sergeant. I hope “Dirk” continues to write those humorous articles of his even after he is in the Army. Mister Stork has been rather idle this month. The only new arrival I got wind of was that brand-new niece my good friend Mary Lengyel has been bragging about to me. I can understand Mary’s special pride in Nancy, since she happens to be the godmother of the youngster. Congratulations to the happy parents of the baby, Mr. and Mrs. Stephen Lengyel, and to Mary, of course, for being able to convince everyone that she’d make a fitting sponsor for the child. One of our Junior members, George Markos, recently underwent an operation for appendicitis, at the Mercy Hospital. I am happy to note that the operation proved a success, and that “Marky” is well enough to return to his classes at Saint Emeric’s School. Since Thanksgiving is just around the corner, I’d like to take this opportunity in wishing everyone a Very Happy and Abundant Thanksgiving Day. I think I’ll start cutting^down on my food now, to make sure there is plenty room for that turkey at our Thanksgiving dinner. Getting back to the more serious viewpoint of things, l think we should all whisper a prayer of thanks to the Almighty, for we here in America have more than we realize to be thankful for. Fraternally, ANN BODNAR, Secretary STABILITY PROGRESS Careful, conservative and sound investments assure the STABILITY of Verhovay’s furds and securities, thereby giving full confidence to members and nrospective members With its assets making sizable gains yeai after year and its membership increasing by leaps and bounds. Verhovay sees before itself a definite future which spells PROGRESS SOCIABILITY rather than frowned upon is regarded as essential to the well-being of Ver hovay life and activities Verhovay’s encouragement and promotion ol social movements within and among its branches is in keeping with the spirit of true FRA TERN ALISM. SOCIABILITY FRATERNALISM • VERHOVAY FRATERNAL INSURANCE ASSOCIATION 345 FOURTH AVE. PITTSBURGH, PA ji
