With many thanks to a cousin, Clarice Spears Cline, Who by sharing her memories of her Great Uncle Josh gave us a few memories of our Grandparents who we never had the privilege of knowing. 

Josh Hollen and Mary Lankford Hollen, pictures of the community they liven in (Jericho Indiana) and other pictures added by Lillie Hollen Estes and Glen South. 

 
JOSHUA HOLLEN AND FAMILY
Seated, Joshua & Mary, Standing Left to Right, Ethel, Cleve, Corder, Nancy Ann, John Walker (His Last Trip Home), November 1917
 

 
Uncle Cleave Seated
Wife Annie And Mother Mary

THE SAGA OF UNCLE JOSH

This anthology of the life and times of Uncle Joshua is written in loving memory of all the wonderful people I remember from my childhood. They had so little, yet they had so much.

These stories were told to us by our father and other relatives on long winter evenings (before radio) when people still talked to each other.

Uncle Joshua was born Ca. 1850 and lived until ca. 1935. He was a preacher, Justice of the Peace, farmer, husband, father, good neighbor and friend.

I hope you enjoy reading them as much as I did writing them.

                                                                  In Christian love,
                                                                  Clarice Spears Cline

UNCLE JOSH AND THE LINESMAN

Uncle Josh was a mighty man 
Of many and various parts 
Whose acts of loving kindness 
Had won his neighbor’s hearts. 

One day when the telephone man 
Was working on the line, 
Uncle Josh, of course, went out to watch, 
His intentions quite benign. 

He looked up in the walnut tree 
Where the linesman was working. 
I imagine he was making sure 
The fellow wasn’t shirking. 

The linesman took out his hammer, 
A nail began to pound. 
Several walnuts of goodly size 
Fell pellmell to the ground. 

A muffled cry arose to him. 
From Uncle Josh below. 
The linesman called out, “Hey, Josh, 
“Did a nut fall on your toe?” 

Said Josh, “You know I am a Christian 
“And you know I’m not a cusser, 
“But one of those ‘Blankety’ walnuts 
“Hit me right square on the busser!”

(1)

UNCLE JOSH AND HIS MULE JACK

Uncle Josh had an old grey mule, 
Who went by the name of Jack. 
Uncle’s feet almost touched the ground 
When he was on Jack’s back. 

Poor old Jack, alas, was lame 
In his right front foot, I think, 
Causing him to stagger along 
‘As tho’ he’d had too much to drink 

Now and then with no warning 
Old Jack would fall right down 
Throwing hapless Uncle Josh 
Unceremoniously to the ground. 

There was a game that old’ Jack played 
On Uncle Joshua; 
As Josh would lift his foot to mount, 
Old Jack would lean away. 

Uncle, one day, said to himself, 
“I’ll get the best of him.” 
He led Jack to a nearby bank 
And stood upon its rim. 

As Josh lifted his foot to mount, 
Old Jack, he leaned w-a-y out. 
Uncle said, Ill get you yet! 
“I know what you’re about!” 

So, Uncle Josh drew back a step 
And with a big. wide grin, 
He took a great big leap at Jack, 
But this time Jack leaned in! 

Over his back went Uncle Josh 
Into a on the ground. 
Was that a grin on the old mule’s face 
As he turned and looked around? 

Josh reached out and grasped his rein 
And led him down the road. 
I think Jack had won the day- - 
He wasn’t carrying a load! 

(2)

UNCLE JOSH AND THE DEACON’S BENCH

Uncle Josh was a Godly man 
(In passing I should mention) 
Tho’ things didn’t always turn out right, 
He was filled with good intention, 

Now, he was a tall man for his time, 
Standing at least six feet four, 
And must have weighed two hundred pounds 
Or maybe even more. 

He had a reputation 
That not a soul could smirch. 
He was, among other things, 
The preacher at our church. 

One night after shaking hands 
With each person he could reach, 
He went up to the pulpit 
‘Til it was time to preach. 

He plunked himself upon a seat 
As he was wont to do. 
It was and old-time deacons’ bench. 
Ker-rack!! He fell right through! 

His feet flew upward toward his chin, 
His hands caught fast in his lap. 
Josh was captured hand and foot. 
Caught like a rat in a trap 

At first everybody stood stock still, 
Not believing what they saw. 
Then my Dad went hurrying up 
To help Uncle to withdraw. 

My Dad said to Uncle Josh, 
‘Can you give me hour hand?” 
Josh replied, “I’m stuck in here 
“As tight as Dick’s hat band!” 

(3)

By this time all the elders 
And all the deacons, too, 
Had come a-running up to see 
What, if anything, they could do. 

They pulled and tugged at Uncle Josh 
With all their main, and might 
But it was as our Uncle said-- 
He sure was wedged in tight! 

His feet stuck straight u in the air, 
His rear drug on the floor. 
We need a pry bar someone said 
And dashed out the old front door. 

Well, they ripped up that deacons’ bench, 
Gave it the real kibosh! 
Someone asked, “Are you hurt?” 
“Nary a bit!” claimed Josh. 

He went up to the lectern 
With what dignity he could muster. 
It took more than a little spill 
Our Uncle Josh to fluster. 

Now, Uncle’s sermons I’ve heard tell 
Were not noted for their brevity, 
But he may have cut it short that night 
Because of all the levity. 

I could not tell you who was first 
To burst out into laughter. 
It seemed as soon as one collected himself, 
Another laughed out right after. 

The Lord surely knew 
What was to be our Uncle’s plight; 
‘Oh, How The Mighty Are Fallen’ 
Was his topic for the night! 


(4)

UNCLE JOSH RUNS HIS SNARES

Uncle Josh went out one day 
When snow was on the ground 
To run some snares that he had set 
Taking with him Red, the hound. 

He wandered far into the woods 
To see what he had caught. 
He found two snares had been sprung 
By fat rabbits for the pot. 

He heard his hound dog barking 
Farther on--way up ahead, 
So he picked up his pace a bit 
To catch up to old Red. 

That hound was barking at a rock 
‘Neath which there was a hole 
Where some small animal had gone 
To get in from the cold. 

Now, Uncle sniffed the air around; 
Said he, “I don’t smell skunk.” 
So he decided to find out. 
For sure--Josh had spunk! 

The ground all around was frozen 
Too hard for his hands to dig. 
He figured to lift a rock that big 
He’d need some sort of rig. 

Uncle looked all around him-- 
An idea came to him-- 
A pry bar--that’s the very thing! 
His eye fell on a limb. 

He picked up that good-sized limb 
And pried up on the rock. 
He found to lift it high enough, 
He did require a chock. 

He pried up that rock a bit 
Stuck in his foot--so bold-- 
Then pulled the limb from ‘neath the stone 
To get a better hold. 

(5)

Down came the stone upon his foot! 
Caused him to twist around. 
It caught his foot just like a vise, 
Threw him face down to the ground! 

As he fell, he threw the limb, 
It hit his poor old dog. 
Old Red immediately took offense 
And headed out at a rapid jog. 

There lay Josh upon the snow, 
His foot was wedged in tight. 
It was late up in the day-- 
And it would soon be night. 

When Old Red came loping home 
With no sign of his master, 
The family, rightly, then assumed 
There must be a disaster. 

Aunt Mary said, “Youngins,” 
“Old Red’s come home alone, 
“And we all know for certain, sure 
“your Pa is accident prone!” 

So every single chick and child 
Set out upon his trail. 
They followed his and Old Red’s tracks 
Up hill and down dale. 

They found their father in the woods, 
His foot wedged ‘neath that stone. 
All were glad he wasn’t hurt. 
He was chilled through to the bone. 

When Uncle Josh fed Red that night 
As was his usual habit, 
I hope he surely gave to him 
At least one piece of rabbit. 

Oh, yes, the animal beneath the rock, 
In case that you were wond’ring-
Aunt Mary said she near left home that night 
Not to return till Spring! 


(6)

UNCLE JOSH AND THE CONFLAGRATION

Uncle Josh and his family 
Lived in a cabin small 
“Down the road a Piece” from us 
‘Neath oak trees stately and tall. 

One day Uncle and his boys 
Were out early hoeing corn. 
They hoped to get some work done 
During the cool time of the morn. 

Aunt Mary and the girls 
Were busy with home chores, 
When by the purest chance of fate, 
One girl stepped out-of-doors. 

Running back into the house 
Completely out of breath, 
She cried, “Ma, the house is afire! 
Scaring Aunt Mary half to death. 

Aunt Mary yelled, “Carry out the bed clothes, 
‘You, Ethel, get to the well, 
“You, Nancy Ann, take out the chairs, 
“And I’ll go ring the bell!” 

Aunt Mary ran into the yard 
And rang it with a will. 
The sound of the old dinner bell 
Rang out o’er dale and hill. 

When Uncle heard the dinner bell 
Pealing out so loud and long, 
He looked at the sun and knew right away 
There was something really wrong! 

Yelled he, “Head for home, boys, 
“you hear that bell a-ringing? 
“There’s something wrong back at the house!” 
Panic set their footsteps winging. 

(7)

Soon they broke thru’ the edge of the wood 
And before their very eyes 
They saw the fire upon the roof 
And heard Aunt Mary’s cries. 

Cleve grabbed a ladder standing near 
And climbed up on the house, 
A pail of water in his hand. 
The fire he tried to douse. 

His brother came up after him 
A garden rake in hand 
He beat at the burning shingles 
With what strength he could command. 

Uncle Josh ran in the house 
Aunt Mary to assist. 
He snatched up a basket of eggs she’d saved, 
And before she could yell, ”Desist!” 

He’d pitched them out the window 
Into the yard outside. 
“There goes my new summer dress!” 
His daughter Ethel cried. 

Then with calm deliberation 
He picked up the sugar and salt; 
Poured them into the flour bin 
Aunt Mary yelled, “Josh halt!” 

Meanwhile the boys and girls outside 
Were beating out the flame. 
About this time the neighbors, too, 
From all directions came. 

They’d heard the dinner bell peel out 
That early in the day, 
Unhitched their horses from the plow, 
And galloped all the way! 

(8)

They Pitched right in to help the boys 
And when they felt they’d won, 
They figured Josh had done more harm 
Than the fire itself had done. 

The neighbors helped in every way 
To put things right once more. 
He would have done the same for them, 
And maybe had before. 

Some brought some shingles for the roof, 
Some brought some two-by-fours. 
The womenfolk replace the stuff 
That got tossed out-of-doors. 

That’s how it was in those days, 
Folks helping one another. 
Each, as the Good Book tells us, 
Was the keeper of his brother. 

(9)

UNCLE JOSH’S TRIP TO THE CAMP-MEETING

Uncle Josh was a preacher 
Of some local reputation, 
And so was often asked to preach 
For some special congregation. 

At Eckerty every summer 
There was a big camp meeting, 
Where people came from far and near 
For preaching, greeting and eating. 

Uncle Joshua had been asked 
As best I can determine 
To bring the family and come down 
And preach the Sunday sermon. 

This was quite an honor paid 
And he wished to make an impression 
When he drove into the old campground 
And joined the joyous procession. 

So, he borrowed Dad’s new spring wagon, 
And our matched mules, Jen and Kate. 
He hurried home to get Aunt Mary 
He didn’t want to be late. 

His son, named Cleve, and his wife, Anne, 
Had asked to go with them 
And bring the little kiddies, too-
That was just fine with him. 

Each one got ‘all gussied up’ 
In the best that they could muster 
Uncle in his preacher’s suit, 
Aunt in her black taffeta duster. 

Cleve wore his brand new overalls, 
Annie her new gingham dress 
The kids all had their shoes on. 
They were determined to impress! 

Josh and Cleve rode the spring seat, 
The custom in those days, 
Womenfolk in chairs in back 
To ease their corset stays. 

(10)

The kids sat on the wagon floor 
In fresh straw spread about, 
Some sitting at the very back 
Where they took the tailgate out. 

It was a lovely August day, 
Not a cloud was there in sight. 
In fact, it hadn’t rained in days 
And the road dust was a fright. 

The mules had not been worked that week, 
And they were feeling their oats. 
Cleve said, “Pa, I’d better drive.” 
They laid aside their coats. 

Off they went, in merry voice, 
Much laughter, joyous chatter. 
Surely there could be naught this day 
The glorious mood to shatter. 

There was between their home and ours, 
A really steep incline. 
When Cleve felt Jen and Kate slow down, 
He laid on with the line. 

The mules, not used to the sting of the lash,
Surged ahead with a mighty leap, 
Causing the women and children in back 
To tumble out in the road in a heap. 

The dust in the road was two inches deep, 
And they stirred up quite a cloud. 
I dare not guess what things they thought. 
But did not say out loud. 

They all got up and stood around. 
Noone was really hurt, 
But the kids were bellering, every one, 
Tears streaking through the dirt. 

The women half-heartedly flicked their clothes 
Knowing well they needed more. 
Uncle Josh trying to mollify 
Set the chairs back to the floor. 

(11)

He said, “Were almost to Johnny’s 
“Well stop and wash up there 
“And you can get a brush and try 
“To get the dust out of your hair.” 

Someone hollered, “Whoa” outside our home 
We heard the children’s cries. 
We all dashed out to see what’s wrong. 
Some sight there met our eyes.

The menfolk sitting neat as a pin 
On the springseat undisturbed, 
While the dust-covered passengers in back 
Were, indeed, quite perturbed! 

It was hard to keep from laughing 
When we saw their dusty plight. 
But our Mother assured them one and all 
That we would set things right 

Fresh water was brought in from the well, 
Whisk brooms were brought, no doubt 
The womenfolk sought privacy 
And handed their clothes out. 

We shook and beat and wiped, and dried, 
And brushed the dust away 
To get them looking neat again 
For the big Camp Meeting Day. 

Once more they climbed in the wagon 
And started down the road. 
The mules set pace at a goodly clip, 
And never even slowed 

Until they reached the meeting ground 
With most folks already there. 
They finally made their entrance 
With but little time to scare 

Uncle nodded left and right 
To all the folks there gathered 
You could tell the mules had made some trip-
Their backs and legs were lathered. 

(12)

Cleve yelled, “whoa,” to Jen and Kate 
And brought them to a halt. 
Now, what ensued right after that 
Was surely not their fault. 

Uncle rose to his impressive height 
And attempted to step down, 
But his foot slipped off the axle; 
He went crashing to the ground! 

He fell upon a pile of dirt, 
His pants ripped past his knee, 
Exposing his socks and underwear 
For all the world to see. 

Folks rushed up to help him, 
“Brother Joshua, are you hurt?” 
“I don’t think so,” Uncle Josh replied, 
“But my nose is full of dirt!” 

Well, everyone had been in the dirt that day 
Except our cousin Cleve, 
As he jumped down to help his pa, 
He tore out his shirt sleeve! 

Cleve got out his bandanna 
To wipe his father’s face, 
Aunt Mary found some safety pins 
To pin his pants in place. 

I heard he preached “Some Sermon” 
Really sounded out the call!! 
I wonder if his topic might have been 
“Pride Goeth Before Destruction” 
“And a haughty Spirit Before a Fall?” 

(13)

UNCLE FIXES THE BELL

One Sunday night our Uncle 
Was just about to Preach, 
But when he went to ring the bell, 
The rope was out of reach. 

Sometimes when kids rang the bell, 
They’d ring it with such zeal, 
The rope would pull right out of hand 
And wrap around the wheel. 

There was nothing to do 
But to climb up to the tower 
And unwind the rope again 
So he could sound the hour. 

He was dressed in his best 
Brand-new Oshkosh Overall 
And never thought for a moment 
That he might take a fall. 

After he’d unwound the rope 
And began to turn around 
He lost his footing on the roof, 
Fell threshing to the ground. 

Everyone came running out 
To see if he was hurt! 
He was lying there so still 
In that yellow clay-ey dirt 

His pants had caught upon a nail 
And tore from stern to stem 
Exposing his rear end, alas, 
To everyone of them! 

Ere long he began to stir 
And soon was sitting up. 
The one that was sent for water 
Poured on him the whole cup 

Down it ran upon his hair 
To mix in with the dirt 
Upon his brand-new overalls 
And his only clean white shirt. 

(14) 

Someone helped him to his feet, 
Water dripped from his mustache. 
He said “Boys, that was quite a drop” 
“It almost cooked my hash!” 

Women searched for safety pins 
To pin up his torn pants 
And handed them to the men about 
With an averted glance. 

Uncle was pretty shaken, 
But took the pulpit just the same 
And cried, “Lord, you work in mysterious ways” 
“Praise your holly name!” 

(15)

EAT MY DUST

As you may remember 
Uncle Josh’s mule was lame. 
In his right front foot, I think. 
Uncle loved him just the same. 

Now Josh was a real big man 
Well over six feet tall. 
When he rode Jack, his feet hung down, 
Most to the ground, I recall. 

Our Uncle was the preacher 
At our church at Jericho 
Where we attended every Sunday 
Many, many years ago. 

The dust lay thick and deep 
On a lovely summer’s day. 
The young folk (then as now) 
Eager to be away! 

They were rather a good-sized group 
As they strolled on down the road 
Where Uncle Josh and his mule, Jack, 
Found their progression slowed. 

The kids were kicking up some dust, 
Which irked our Uncle josh, 
So he urged old Jack up to a trot; 
He’d show these kids, bigosh! 

He hollered as he loped on by, 
‘You’ll eat my dust awhile!” 
And laid the whip on old Jack‘s flank 
As they rode by with a smile. 

When old Jack ran with his lame foot 
He did bobble up and down. 
All at once he tripped and fell, 
Throwing Uncle to the ground! 

(16)

Over and over our uncle rolled. 
Dust rose in a big brown cloud. 
It must have been embarrassing 
In front of all that crowd. 

He was covered with dust from head to foot-- 
His Sunday-go-to-meeting clothes. 
He had dust all in his hair, 
In his mustache and his nose 

He pulled himself to his full six feet 
With what dignity he could muster, 
And said rather lamely to the world at large, 
“That was a real butt-buster!” 

(17)

UNCLE JOSH GOES TO THE MILL

One day our Uncle Joshua 
Came by, Taswell bound, 
To leave some corn off at the mill 
And get some cornmeal ground. 

The springseat on his wagon 
Was in sad need of repair 
He stopped by our house to see 
If dad had one to spare. 

Dad’s wagon was much wider 
Than the one that Uncle had, 
But they thought that he could make it work 
“We’ll make it fit,” said Dad. 

They put one side of the seat 
Inside the wagon bed. 
“We’ll use main strength on the spring 
“And push it inside,” they said 

It surely was one tight fit, 
But it seemed to work okay. 
Dad said, “Be sure to sit in the middle, 
“Don’t overbalance either way.” 

The seat hung over on each side 
Being wider than the bed. 
“I’ll be careful where I sit,” 
My Uncle Joshua said. 

“Get up, old mules,” he hollered out, 
And started down the road, 
Heading out for Trusty’s Mill. 
They had a heavy load. 

He left his corn off at the mill, 
Went to Nash’s store to trade, 
And see his old acquaintances 
And learn what changes had been made. 

(18)

At ten he went to the depot, 
The passenger train came in. 
What excitement to see the passengers, 
And the colored porter again! 

“My dinner will be ready, boys, 
“I’d best head for Jericho.” 
So he loaded up his wagon, 
Yelled, ”Come on, mules, let’s go!” 

Those old mules knew their way home, 
As they ambled down the road. 
They didn’t need a guiding hand, 
Nor need a whip nor goad. 

The sun was warm on Uncle’s back 
He’d got up really early. 
It must have been near 4 a.m. 
Whi1e the dew was wet and pearly. 

His head soon began to droop, 
Soft snores did issue forth, 
And now and then he’d snort real loud 
For all that he was worth.. 

The jouncing of the wagon 
Caused his relaxed body to move about. 
And his head sank lower on his chest; 
He was sound asleep, no doubt. 

As he neared Highfill Chapel, 
The Ladies Aid was letting out. 
They saw our Uncle riding by 
And one or two did shout, 

“Good morning, Brother Joshua,” 
Which woke him with a jar! 
He jumped and when his rear came down, 
He’d moved to one side too far! 

S-p-r-o-i-n-g! That seat so tight 
Let go like it had a notion, 
Throwing Uncle Joshua at their feet, 
Thus causing quite a commotion! 

(19)

The mules continued down the road 
As though nothing was askew, 
While Uncle dusted himself off, 
Embarrassed through and through. 

He picked up that offending seat, 
Swung it over his broad shoulder, 
And turned to walk away from there 
And tripped upon a boulder. 

It was a good thing our Uncle Josh 
Had an unsmirched reputation, 
Or there might have been those who asked 
It he’d had some strong potation. 

Outside of some nasty bruises 
And contusions and sore dentures, 
There were no lasting ill-effects 
From his morning’s misadventures. 

(20)

UNCLE JOSH’S GALOSHES

When Uncle Josh grew older 
And retired from his labors, 
He spent much of his time 
Visiting relatives and neighbors. 

One year he was in Eckerty 
Rather early in the fall. 
He truly had not expected 
A six inch snow at all. 

He did not have his boots with him 
That early in the season; 
He wore a fourteen, triple E, 
They were heavy, that’s one reason. 

He planned a trip to our house—- 
A walk of several miles. 
Webb Ott’s General Mercantile 
Kept boots in several styles. 

Mr. Ott looked down with awe 
At Uncle’s size fourteen. 
He said, “Josh, I think that that’s 
“The biggest foot I ‘ye ever seen!” 

He just stood there slack—jawed, 
Disbelief was in his eye. 
He said there was not one boot in stock 
That Josh could even try. 

Uncle got up from his seat 
And started for the door. 
“Wait,” exclaimed old Mr. Ott, 
“Let’s look in one place more.” 

“I have some GI surplus 
“That I have stored upstairs, 
“Let’s go up and take a look, 
“There may be a couple of pairs.” 

(21)

So they opened all the boxes, 
And there in army green, 
Was a pair of big galoshes 
Would YOU believe--SIZE 18?? 

Uncle tried on one galosh. 
He said, “I guess that fits. 
“How much do you want for them?” 
Said Mr. Ott, “Two bits.” 

Uncle put those boots right on 
And took off down the pike. 
For him to walk for 6 long miles 
Was just a goodly hike. 

That day when I came home from school, 
Sitting right outside our door 
Were two huge galoshes 
I had never seen before.

They looked like bushel baskets 
To a little kid like me. 
They were the very biggest boots 
I ever hope to see. 

Uncle Josh Was really proud; 
Only two-bits had he paid. 
So what? if they were a little big-- 
Think what a bargain he’d made!

(22)

UNCLE JOSH AND THE LOGGERS

One fine spring day, some years ago, 
The menfolk got together 
To clear some newground for my Dad; 
It was wonderful spring weather. 

They were working on a hillside. 
Dad warned all to beware. 
The logs might roll down on them, 
They had to take great care. 

When they had cut down a tree, 
They used a tackle and ‘a block 
To pile it where they wanted it, 
Then stopped it with a chock. 

Our Uncle Josh was there that day 
To lend a helping hand. 
Dad tried to keep an eye on him, 
But they were under-manned. 

While Dad was busy elsewhere, 
Uncle took his canthook with him 
To straighten up a pile of logs. 
He dislodged one from the rim! 

Right away he realized 
He’d made a grievous error 
As it rumbled off the pile, 
His heart was filled with terror! 

He started pedaling backwards 
Down that steep and rocky hill. 
He knew a log that was that big 
Could maim or even kill. 

He was racing for his life; 
Alas! the log was gaining! 
He really tried to keep ahead 
Presence of mind maintaining. 

The log seemed to take on a life of its own 
Like a demon out of Hell! 
Determined to snuff his life out--
It caught his toe-- he fell! 

Down he went! and that Nemesis log 
Rolled right upon his leg. 
“Squeee! Went the air from inside of him! 
“Oh, save me, Lord, I beg!” 

His head had fallen by a rock 
Which stopped the log’s procession. 
But Uncle was in awful pain; 
You could tell by his expression. 

They were there immediately 
Uncle couldn’t get his breath;
If they didn’t help him soon, 
It might mash him to death. 

How to get that log off him 
Became the burning question, then, 
It was so heavy and the hill so steep 
They couldn’t roll it back again. 

We’ll have to roll it over his head,” 
Someone in the group exclaimed! 
“Oh, surely not,” cried someone else, 
“He’d not want to be maimed!” 

My Dad said, “How about 
“If we dig a hole for his head? 
“The log would roll right over him 
“Without mashing his face,” he said. 

That’s exactly what they did, 
They rolled it right over his head 
“It was like an elephant’s foot,” 
Our Uncle later said. 

They loaded him into a wagon 
And headed for Old Doc King. 
Doc said “There’s nothing wrong that I can see’’ 
“Nothing?” ”Not a thing!” 

Of course he was pretty sore 
And took to his bed awhile. 
(So’s Mary could wash my clothes) 
He said, slyly, with a smile. 

(24)

WALKING THE RAFT

To earn some extra money 
My uncles and my Dad 
Would seek out jobs that they could find, 
Whatever could be had. 

When Patoka River was in flood 
Early in the spring, 
They sometimes became raftsmen- - 
They’d try anything. 

They would make a raft of logs 
They’d cut and stacked before, 
Floating them to the Wabash 
A hundred miles or more. 

They lived and worked upon this raft; 
The life was really rough, 
But they were young and feisty then. 
As Dad said, “Full of stuffs” 

One year Uncle Joshua 
Needed money really bad, 
Things were tough all over 
And few jobs ‘to be had. 

He hired on to ride the raft, 
A pole man was he. 
He ’Walked’ the raft down the river. 
“Sounds easy enough to me” 

So on the flood they started out, 
It would be a long, hard trip. 
The water was cold, the wind still raw 
On this makeshift river ship. 

The Polers had a great long stick, 
And this they had to learn, 
To plunge the pole down in the mud 
And walk from bow to stern. 

When they got near to the stern, 
They gave the pole a jerk 
To pull it from the mire and muck; 
It was very tiring work. 

(25)

One day when Uncle Josh 
Was walking out his shift, 
He was getting pretty tired; 
His mind began to drift. 

His hands and arms were really sore 
As they worked the raft ‘round the bend. 
He didn’t pull up his pole in time-- 
Walked right off the end!! 

There he clung to that big long pole, 
His hands were losing their grip. 
The raft drifted on without him. 
His hands began to slip! 

He slid right down, smooth as silk, 
Into that cold, muddy stream; 
Up to his neck our Uncle sank. 
He muttered, “I could just scream!” 

It was a good thing our Uncle was tall, 
For he surely could not swim. 
If he had been a shorter man, 
That would have been’ the death of him. 

Someone there, who kept his head, 
Quick! threw a rope to Joshua. 
They pulled him out just like a trout 
As they continued on their way. 

Fortunately, for him, Aunt’ Mary packed 
A bunch of extra clothes. 
He was shaking, his teeth were clacking’. 
I guess he nearly froze. 

They wrapped “his blankets ‘round him,
Poured him coffee, good and hot. 
Through rattling teeth he told them, 
“Boys, that sure hits the spot.” 

You’d think, him being a preacher, 
All the baptizing he’d done in his day, 
He’d at least have learned to float 
Somewhere along the way! 

(26)

FIRE IN THE HOLE!

This story of Uncle Joshua 
As best as I can tell 
Took place one summer’s day 
When he helped Dad-to dig our well. 

For years we’d carried water 
From a big spring ‘neath the hill. 
Our Mother finally said, “Now, John, 
“Either you dig a well or I will!” 

Dad called his cronies ‘round him. 
(Folks helped each other then.) 
They decided where the well should be; 
Said Dad, “Let the well-digging begin.” 

Our Uncle Joshua was there that day. 
Always ready to help out. 
Everyone was extra careful 
When Uncle was about. 

He worked so hard and was very strong; 
But they dared not leave him alone 
For fear he’d fall down in the hole-- 
Uncle Josh was ‘accident prone.’ 

When they had gone down near ten feet, 
They ran into solid rock. 
Dad’s cousin said, “We’ll have to blast 
“To get through this sandstone block.” 

Someone went to Taswell 
To get fuse and dynamite. 
The storekeeper gave instructions 
And warned them to use it right. 

When they had placed the dynamite 
Down in the deep, dark hole, 
Not one had the nerve to light the fuse. 
Said Josh, “Now bless my soul, 

“I’ll go down and light the fuse, 
“Cause there will be lots of time 
“To get up out of the well-hole 
“If I just keep my head and climb!!” 

(27)

He lowered his 6 foot frame into the hole 
With matches in his hand, 
He said, “Better take cover, boys!” 
They swiftly obeyed his command. 

He lit the fuse, grabbed the ladder 
To scramble out, but bless my soul! 
In his great haste he jerked it back 
Across the open hole! 

There he hung, most upside down 
Above that sputtering fuse. 
“HELP!” he cried, “I’m stuck in here! 
“Someone come get me loose! 

Heads popped up from everywhere 
But noone came to his aid. 
They knew you can’t trust dynamite. 
And they were sore afraid. 

My Dad and Thomas, without thought 
Rushed to the open well 
To help their Uncle Joshua 
‘Most quicker’n I can tell 

They pushed the ladder back in place 
And grasped their. Uncle’s hand 
And yanked him out to safety. 
The fuse was sputtering to beat the band. 

They dashed pellmell behind a shed 
Which fortunately was near 
Before the dynamite did blow 
Loud enough, to bust an ear! 

The dirt and rocks flew all about 
Some pelting on their heads. 
Uncle turned and looked at Dad, 
“That was a narry squeak,” he said. 

I can’t imagine why they let him 
Go down in that hole alone-- 
They knew their Uncle Joshua 
Was purely accident crone. 

(28)

But, once again, Uncle had come through, 
They finished up the well, 
But they found him jobs to do topside 
I’ve heard my Father tell 

That well sure helped my Mother, 
And saved my Dad some strife. 
I‘m sure glad it was not made 
At the cost of Uncle’s life 

IT WAS A NARRY SQUEAK!!

UNCLE’S HANDLEBAR MUSTACHE

Uncle came to our house in town 
Usually once a year. 
We were really glad to see him, 
As we held him very dear. 

He had a handlebar mustache 
He’d worn most of his life. 
Since we had no mustache cup, 
Drinking coffee was a strife. 

He always got his coffee on 
His mustache ‘neath his nose, 
But he somehow managed to get that drop 
Before it fell upon his clothes. 

Noone drank coffee much at home. 
(I guess that I should mention) 
So when Uncle drank his morning cup, 
He had this kid’s full attention. 

He drank with wondrous slurping sounds 
That made it sound so good!
I’d gladly have shared it with him 
If he’d only said I could. 

He wore that handlebar mustache 
And kept it trimmed with pride. 
It was part of his mystique 
Until the day he died! 

(29)

HEY, BUCKEYE, BUCK

My brother, John, when just a lad, 
Toward mischief he was bent; 
If there was nothing happening, 
A little mischief he’d invent. 

Our Great Uncle Joshua 
With a nickname had been stuck-- 
Many of his compatriots 
Would call our uncle ‘Buck, 

Now, this was back some time ago 
When one’s elders received respect, 
And we’d never, never call him Buck, 
Or Dad would break our neck. 

One day John was by the door 
When our Uncle Josh rode by. 
A mischievous thought came to his head 
And he was heard to cry, 

“Hey, Buckeye, Buck,” and quick as a wink 
He ducked behind the door. 
Since Uncle could not see him, 
He hollered out once more, 

“Hey, Buckeye, Buck,” in saucy voice, 
And then once more ducked down, 
But a movement just behind him 
Caused John Kern to whirl around. 

There, standing not two feet away, 
Was our mother, big as life, 
And from the look upon her face, 
He knew there would be strife!

As she grasped his outstanding ears, 
He realized he was out of luck, 
While whack after whack fell on his rear. 
“I’ll make you think, Buckeye Buck!!” 

(30)

Well, years went by and Uncle Josh 
Grew old and passed away, 
But John never forgot the lesson 
Our Mother taught him that day. 

When a collection was being taken 
To buy a fitting stone 
To mark our Uncle’s resting place, 
It was John’s chance to atone. 

No longer, now, the smart-mouthed kid, 
The years had worked their charm. 
He’d grown up to be a doctor 
With quick wit to disarm. 

He was noted for his merry ways, 
The joke, the ready smile, 
And his tender compassion 
For his patients all the while. 

He wrote a check that very day, 
To it a note he stuck-- 
Signed: From that mischievous kid, 
Who hollered, “Hey, Buckeye, Buck!” 

(31)

UNCLE JOSH’S NEW STRAW HAT 

Uncle Josh rode out one day 
Astride of his old mule, Jack. 
He had his new summer straw hat 
And his preacher clothes on his back. 

He was heading out to pay some calls 
To the sick and shut—ins that day. 
He couldn’t get out in his fields to work, 
But he could earn his preacher’s pay. 

It had rained; there had been some wind 
But the sky was blue and clear. 
The road was sloppy and deep with mud.—
Large puddles everywhere. 

Josh and Jack were taking their time, 
Uncle Josh was singing a hymn, 
“Oh, Come With Me To The Old Churchyard” 
When he ducked to ride ‘neath a limb. 

It seems when they strung the telephone wire 
They nailed it on whatever was near; 
Mostly on trees beside the road; 
The cost of poles was dear. 

During the storm a limb from above 
Had broken the telephone wire. 
Unseen by Josh, it snatched his hat 
And threw it into the mire. 

Now this raised Uncle’s ire a bit—— 
It was his brand—new straw! 
Besides, he had just blacked his boots. 
The whole thing stuck in his craw! 

Said he to himself, “Someone will hear 
“an earful about this deed!” 
To retrieve his hat he had to get in the mud; 
Uncle Josh was ticked—off, indeed! 

He climbed off Jack, reclaimed his hat, 
Wiped it off with his handkerchief. 
Then picking up the offending wire, said 
“You’ll cause me no more grief!” 

(32)

He pulled it tight and fastened it 
To a limb up rather high, 
“You’ll not rake my hat off again 
The next time you pass by!” 

He led old Jack to the side of the road 
And climbed a grassy bank, 
Wiping his boots on the wet grass there, 
then mounted, slapped old Jack on the flank. 

They started ahead on down the road, 
Just then that wire cut loose! 
SPRANG!! it whacked old Jack quite a whack 
Across what might be called his caboose! 

HEE HAW! Jack brayed out loud and long, 
Kicked his heels up in the air, 
With a loud cry Josh sailed over Jack’s head 
In a perfect swan dive, I declare! 

Into the biggest mud puddle there 
Making a tremendous splash! 
Then Jack’s lame foot made him slip and fall 
Almost cooking Uncle’s hash. 

By the time they both got to their feet 
They were in as owful muddle, 
And there was Uncle’s brand-new straw 
Afloat again in a puddle. 

Josh couldn’t get Jack quieted down, 
Enough to mount once more. 
Jack was so muddy and the saddle too, 
And those were his best clothes he wore. 

We could here uncle holler, “WHOA! Jack 
WHOA!” they were making quite a fuss, the old 
mule braying and acting up, Uncle looking mad 
enough to cuss! They looked like mud pies, my 
Father said, muddy water dripped from his 
clothes, it ran in rivulets from his hair 
and dripped from the end of his nose. 
(continued)

Dad ask if he would like to come in, (while 
trying to contain his glee) . “Much obliged,” 
he replied, “I’d best go home and wash this 
mud off me!” 

I‘ll bet it took Aunt Mary a week 
to get the mud off his suit. 
And you must know the hat was never the same-
And it brand - new, to boot! 
Dad put on his boots, took his hammer and pliers 

To splice that telephone wire, 
And out of respect for Uncle Josh, 
He nailed it quite a bit higher. 

This article was cut from the

Crawford County Newspaper

 70 Years Ago Today

Sept 21, 1921 to Sept 21 1991

Keen interest was displayed last Wednesday by the people in and near the vicinity of Jericho the celebration of a golden wedding in honor of Mr. and Mrs. Josh Hollen. Approximately 500 people were present to partake of the bountiful dinner that had been prepared.

I tried to retain the integrity of the original booklet except for a few minor spelling mistakes.  I did insert pictures when I had copies of the ones in the booklet since pictures do not copy very well when inserted into a document.  I did not have copies of all the pictures in the booklet.  If you have copies I would really appreciate you mailing them to me, or attaching them to an email to sending them to me at clarabaker1@cox.net.  If you send a hard copy I will mail them back to you as soon as I scan them and put them in the document if you do not forget to make sure I have your mailing address.  Thank you.