If you’ve never read Stephen Leacock’s Sunshine Sketches of a Little Town, you’ve missed something. In fact, I just ordered a copy so I could reread it. I haven’t seen it since my college days, more years ago than I care to count. Predating Garrison Keillor’s Lake Wobegon by just shy of a century, but much in the same vein, Leacock tells, as only a master storyteller can, the hilarious goings-on in a small town, where everyone knows each other and a significant number are blood relations. It reminds me a great deal of the small New Hampshire town in which I grew up, with its two-room schoolhouse, post office in the general store, and one twenty-year-old fire engine. Indeed, many of the locals were related to each other, coming primarily from two prominent families. Here are a few bits and pieces of East Sullivan. Continue reading “My Own Sunshine Sketches”
I'm Thinking...No! 