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<DIV>Thanks Walt.</DIV>
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<DIV>Nineveh Ford</DIV>
<DIV>1815-1897</DIV>
<DIV> </DIV>
<DIV>Cecil</DIV>
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<DIV style="FONT: 10pt arial">----- Original Message ----- </DIV>
<DIV
style="BACKGROUND: #e4e4e4; FONT: 10pt arial; font-color: black"><B>From:</B>
<A title=DAVIESW739@aol.com
href="mailto:DAVIESW739@aol.com">DAVIESW739@aol.com</A> </DIV>
<DIV style="FONT: 10pt arial"><B>To:</B> <A
title=or-roots@sosinet.sos.state.or.us
href="mailto:or-roots@sosinet.sos.state.or.us">or-roots@sosinet.sos.state.or.us</A>
</DIV>
<DIV style="FONT: 10pt arial"><B>Sent:</B> Sunday, May 16, 2004 8:15 AM</DIV>
<DIV style="FONT: 10pt arial"><B>Subject:</B> Re: [or-roots] The bridge that
Nineveh Ford moved</DIV>
<DIV><BR></DIV>
<DIV> </DIV>
<DIV>Somewhere near the crossing of the North Platte, we camped at a place
called Soap Springs. It was a boggy place. Old Mr. Mills stepped into a
sink hole and, as he said: "went in up to his hat band." Niniva Ford's big
black ox blundered into one during the night. In the morning he was
found and pulled out before Niniva was up. He was covered, all but his head,
with the thick blue mud. Niniva made a great fuss when he could not find his
big black ox.</DIV>
<DIV> </DIV>
<DIV> Everyone else "hook up." There was a lone blue ox grassing
about that no one seemed to claim. Niniva was asked if it were not his.
He said: "No my ox is black." Finally he was advised to take it anyway,
the owner perhaps had yoked up the black ox by mistake. There seemed nothing
else to do, so Niniva, mad as a hornet, went out to catch the ox, while
everyone looked on and laughed. After a while Niniva laughed about it too, but
he did not at first. He was still too mad at the man that he thought had
taken his big black ox.</DIV>
<DIV> </DIV>
<DIV><FONT lang=0 face=Arial size=2 PTSIZE="10" FAMILY="SANSSERIF"><B>Walt
Davies<BR>Cooper Hollow Farm<BR>Monmouth, OR 97361<BR>503 623-0460
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