Good Old Days Magazine

Biscuit, Mayonnaise and Onion

I glanced at the large school clock above the blackboard. The big hand pointed to four and the little hand was just past three. Twenty past three—another 10 minutes and I would be on my way home. Could I wait that long before I ate something? My stomach sounded and felt as if it were chewing on my backbone.

The year was 1950, and I was in the third grade. The canned goods the school received from the government had to be older than the Smoky

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