The Work and the Glory by Gerald N. Lund

to pull one’s opponent to his feet, to pull him out of his original position, or to make him break contact with either hands or feet. With Joseph and Matthew, it was almost comical to watch them line up. Matthew was deadly serious as he stretched his little legs out to their full length. Joseph had to pull his knees up tight under his chin in order to even let Matthew reach the stick. He held on with only one hand.
    Joshua stepped forward, trying not to smile. “Ready?”
    Matthew was already gritting his teeth in preparation, and merely nodded.
    “Ready,” Joseph said gravely.
    “Pull!” Joshua shouted.
    Matthew grunted, and instantly blood rushed to his face as he strained to pull back.
    “Oh!” Joseph cried, rocking forward a little. Then he pulled back slightly, lifting Matthew about an inch off his seat. Nathan could see the thin legs start to tremble. But once again Joseph let himself be pulled forward. He moaned and rolled his eyes, as though in pain, but Matthew’s eyes had now squeezed shut with the intensity of his effort.
    “You’re not really trying!” Becca called. Joseph laughed, and then with one steady pull, he leaned back. Matthew came straight up, halfway to a standing position before his grip gave way and he crashed back down. Joseph rolled backwards, ending up on his back as well.
    Instantly he swung around to face Matthew as the others applauded. “Whew! You nearly took me there, young man.”
    Matthew was puffing like a blown horse, but he was also grinning broadly. Joseph punched him softly on the shoulder. “Remind me not to be around when you’re about ten years older.”
    “I’m next,” Becca cried, stepping in front of Matthew.
    The results were the same, except she started to giggle even as Joshua said ready, and Joseph pulled her right up and over to collapse on top of him. The giggles gave way to squeals for mercy as Joseph grabbed her and began to tickle her under the arms.
    Joseph rolled over and sat up, letting her finally escape to her mother. He looked up. “How about you, Melissa?”
    At sixteen, Melissa was beyond children’s games. She just shook her head, blushing faintly.
    Joseph sighed, then shrugged. “I guess that finishes it, then.”
    He started to rise, but Joshua merely grunted, pushing him back down again. “Not quite,” he said. “Let’s see how you and Nathan do.” He stuck out his other hand. Two pieces of straw were held between the fingers. In stick pulling, the man with his hands on the outside of the stick was thought to have the advantage, so it was customary to draw for hand position.
    Joseph shook his head, a mischievous grin pulling at the corners of his mouth. “Why don’t we just let Nathan take the outside position. I wouldn’t want him left with any excuse when he loses.”
    “Do it, Nathan,” Matthew warned solemnly. “He’s really strong.”
    “Draw your straw, Mister,” Nathan said easily. He always loved the confident ones. It was so sweet to make them eat crow.
    Joseph reached over and pulled the outside straw. Joshua swung around and Nathan drew the second one. Nathan’s was half an inch shorter. He laughed, a short bark of derision. “I’ll take the inside position,” he said, sitting down to face Smith. “I wouldn’t want to leave you with an excuse, should you lose.”
    Joseph just chuckled and held out the stick, keeping his hands wide. Nathan put his hands just inside of Joseph’s.
    Now the bantering stopped. Both men were concentrating on their grip, fingers curling and uncurling. Joshua stepped forward. “Best of three. Ready?”
    Their fingers stopped moving, knuckles suddenly tightening down, whitening the flesh. Matthew and Becca inched closer, eyes wide. First Joseph nodded, then Nathan.
    “Pull!”
    Nathan gasped. For a moment he thought his arms had been yanked out of their sockets, and only when it registered they had not did he also realize his feet had flown free and he had been yanked around to