by Freida Marie Crump
Greetin’s from the Ridge.
Lappy Mills was about the unluckiest fella we ever knew. He never owned a car that’d run, a dog that’d hunt or married a woman that’d put up with his losin’ ways for more than a season. Like the little fella in Al Capp’s comic strip who walked around with his own private rain cloud over his head, Lappy and luck were