Jack Hart

I don't know if I believe what I am gonna talk about our not, but I also don't believe in taking any unnecessary chances. I reckon, just in case, people should be careful what name they give their children. We had this boy, Jack Hart, that grew up just down the road from where I grew up. He was a good looking fellow in high school and always has plenty of girl friends. He was pretty well off and he always had a nice car and great clothes. This was back when my momma was just trying to keep me in a change of clothes for weekdays and a pretty good Sunday suit. If I wanted to go somewhere I walked. Now, don't get me wrong. Coveting wasn't a big thing back then and Jack never flaunted any of his advantages. Now, what I'm talking about, Jack became a gambler. I can't swear his name had anything to do with it, but like I say, why challenge fate. In his case it would have been simple to call him by his formal name, John, but I reckon his folks thought it was cute to call him Jack Hart. In fact, his momma used to call him her Jack of Hearts. Last week he was in town to beg money from his last living relatives. He was driving a car that looked like if it made it across town, luck would play a part in it. His clothes weren't too bad but he wore the same outfit for the whole time he was here. Some good, young friends of ours, the Shays, had a baby girl last week. They were telling Dorothy and me they want to name her Cleopatra and call her Cle for short. I told them nothing good could come from carrying around a name like Cle Shay. I hope they heed my warning.