Paul loved his work in the far North among the logging
camps and the friends he had made of the hardy workers, and they liked Paul’s gentle
manner and his love of hard work. They didn’t even mind the mischief of his mighty
Blue Ox Babe, they were not in the least bit jealous of the fact that Paul could fell more
trees than any of the workers could accomplish in a year. It was the incident that
happened two mornings ago that was the last straw for many of them gathered before him
now.
"Look, we like you Paul, you are a darn good worker
and a friend to all, but you, well you are," The man stammered as he looked down at
his shoe digging a ridge in the dirt each time he gave a kick. "what I’m trying
to say is that you are bigger than most of us and we just don’t know what to do with
you. Yesterday you had our workers tie butter to the bottom of their boots and skate
across your frying pan greasing it up for your flapjacks, they just have better things to
do. Paul, much as I hate to say this, You’ll just have to find somewhere else to
work."
COMMENTARY:
Across the North face of America the name of Paul Bunyon is
heard in connection with the creation of lakes, rivers and canyons. He is another in the
mighty family of bigger than life American Folk Heroes who helped to shape the Northern
States with his gentle and unbeatable strength and wherewithal.
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