MISS MAYHALL AND THE DIRTY EGGS

Miss Mayhall was born in a barn, and got dropped on her head shortly thereafter.  It didn't hurt her bad, but it did make her friendly.  She didn't have a care in the world and was always smiling and singing.  Her favorite song was "Hold The Bell Cow".  You could hear her singing it while she was tending her chickens.   ♫ "Went down to the cornfield to pick a mess of beans, along came the bell cow pecking at the greens."  ♫♫ "Hold the bell cow, catch her by the tail, hold the bell cow, milk her in the pail."  The hens loved it, and laid lots and lots of white eggs.  Miss Mayhall would take her eggs to the General Store and sell them for three cents apiece.  She was secretly saving up for a wedding dress, but would never have told it.  Now most everybody knows that the color of a chicken's earlobes predicts the color of the eggs.  You learn that the same way as how to milk a cow, or how to dress a goose.  (You don't use calico to dress a goose)  These things are just passed down from those who know to those who don't know.  However, for some unknown reason, nobody for miles around had ever raised anything but White Leggerns, and those kind only lay white eggs.  Not one person in the whole county had ever laid eyes on a brown egg, or a dark chicken; that is, except for Miss Mayhall.  She was good at keeping a secret, and had recently discovered a reddish brown hen, which must have escaped from a traveling wagon.   It was a mighty fine looking hen, but at the same time very curious, as far as Miss Mayhall was concerned.  Why, what would it do?  Would it eat corn, lay eggs, cluck, fly, nest? Well, it "certainly must need a nest", she thought, so reluctantly she pitched it in the coop.  None of the other chickens seemed to mind, and the roosters were happy to accommodate the new lady.  She took right to clucking, and eating corn, and laying eggs...very BROWN eggs!!  Oh, what a sight!!  Miss Mayhall gasped as she looked in that nest, and screamed, "Look how dirty!!"  "How shall I ever sell those dirty eggs?!!"  "What will I ever do with them?"  "Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear!"  She decided to wash them.  I heard she even tried to white wash them, until her conscience got the better of her.  There was nothing to do but see if any of the town's folks would be curious enough to try the dirty eggs for themselves.  Miss Mayhall had already eaten a few, and since she didn't die,  figured they were safe enough.  Of course, the price for the dirty eggs would have to be less than the white eggs, so two cents apiece would be fair.  Off she went to the General Store, where to her surprise, she completely sold out!  Folks were so curious, they drew a big crowd, and everybody wanted the dirty eggs more than the white ones!  After that, Miss Mayhall could charge four cents apiece because, of course, the dirty eggs were richer and had a better flavor.  It didn't take long for the dark hen to hatch a brood, and then they started laying, and so on, and so on.  Nobody would have ever guessed that Miss Mayhall would have had enough sense to start her own business, but she did.  She quit selling eggs at the General Store, and opened her own store.  She called it, "Miss Mayhall's Eggs And Goods".  I went in there one time and there was a new wedding dress hanging in the back.  The tag read... "Not For Sale".

THE ARGUMENT

It was early and a most lovely day!  Old Mr. "Clum" Thompson  was headed over to Old Mr. Amos Walter's place.  Everybody knew without  looking because Old Clum's wagon had a real bad squeaky wheel, which he did not intend to fix.  I could hear Mama in the kitchen singing "Beulah Land", and there was a symphony of familiar sounds going on outside. Between the old squeaky wheel, birds, dogs, and crows, it sounded like "squeak squeak, tweet tweet, yip yip, caw caw", "squeak squeak, tweet tweet, yip yip, caw caw".  I laughed at the thought of it, and danced all the way outside.  Old Clum slowed down when he saw me and said I could come along.  (He was an excellent judge of character and knew how nosy I was).  When we got to Old Amos' place, he was skinnin' a rabbit, so I didn't jump down right away.  Old Clum asked me if I was just gonna "set there like a flapjack waitin' for some butter", so I got down.  I was thinking to myself how they sure did look old, and I asked which one was the oldest.  To my surprise, neither one knew exactly how old he was! At the time each was born nobody around those parts could read or write.  It used to drive the census takers crazy, so most times they just made up something.  Old Amos guessed that he was the oldest, but Old Clum disagreed, and they spit and sputtered about it for a good fifteen minutes, got tired and sat down.  After they caught their breath they decided to settle the matter for good.  "Here we go", I thought, "they're takin' it behind the barn"!!  Old Clum had a better idea.  The old bridge over Watson's Creek needed a good fixin', so whichever one got to the middle first, was finished, and therefore was the oldest.  Old Amos thought it was a fine idea, and went to fetch his mule.  Old Clum asked him why, and Old Amos didn't like it, so they spit and sputtered about it for a good fifteen minutes, got tired and sat down.  After they caught their breath that time, they discussed what size boards, and nails, and how much rope they needed.  If one said three feet of rope, the other said different.  If one said one size nail, the other said different, and every time, they would spit and sputter about it, get tired and sit down.  Well, the sun went down finally, so it was too late to start anything that day.  They decided to try again another time, and Old Clum and I left.  Old Clum certainly never did fix that old wheel, and for a long time, most mornings, I could hear, "squeak squeak, tweet tweet, yip yip, caw caw", and I laughed at the thought of it.

AUNT BITSY'S FRECKLE POTION

Aunt Bitsy came down with an "old sore leg" one summer.  I knew she did because I heard folks ask Aunt Reba how her sister's "old sore leg" was doing.  The only income Aunt Bitsy had was from the homemade elixir she made and sold for twenty five cents a bottle.  I don't know what all was in it, but it was guaranteed to keep the freckles away, and the womenfolk bought it so fast, it was hard to keep up.  Mama told Aunt Bitsy it would be all right if us kids went to stay for a week to help out.  She made us promise not to be a burden, and started packing our things right away.  We were about as excited as a cow lookin' at a new gate.  
First thing I heard next morning was the swish swish of Aunt Reba's skirt as she flew through our house gathering food and clothes, and...us.  We kissed Mama goodbye and left for the cottage in the wildwood.  The wagon was so loaded down, I declared it would take us two days to go ten miles.  My brother rode on the back, and my sister and I were on opposite sides,  (usually the case with us anyway).  Close to Watson's creek  my brother yelled he could see two people gettin' baptized down there!  We bowed our heads 'cause we were scared not to! 
When we got to Aunt Bitsy's, she was out on the back porch busily making her Freckle Potion.  After we all hugged, my brother asked to see the "old sore leg".  I knocked him in the head for doin' it!  Aunt Reba wouldn't hear of her sister standing up one more minute on that bad leg, and promptly ordered her to sit down.  That's when we kids went to work.  I never saw so many bottles to fill in my life, but we got 'em all done; and then somebody let the dogs out.  They licked the whole porch off and slept good that night.  
It turned out to be a pretty good week after all.  We all pitched in while Aunt Bitsy took it easy.  At night we would sing "Sally in Her Shimmy Tail", "Strut Miss Lizzy", and anything else we could think of.  In the daytime we would haul bottles of elixir to town and collect what money there was.  Aunt Bitsy was real happy the whole time we were there...sometimes downright giddy.  The "old sore leg" healed just right, and as long as she lived, she never had a freckle.
       
     
 

Aunt Pauline and the "Sweet Magnolias"

Aunt Pauline's front porch was shaded by the huge Magnolia tree which daddy had planted for her years earlier.  (He got it from a cutting off Uncle Jesse's tree).  The limbs were close to the ground, and when the grownups weren't looking, we would kick off our shoes and climb all the way to the top, carefully avoiding the big white flowers.   Aunt Pauline would cut some of the blooms and float them in the old washstand by the spare bed when she knew company was coming.  The sweet citrus scent would waft throughout the house creating a warm, pleasant, and inviting atmosphere.  In the beginning (for a long time after it got grown), that big old tree just wouldn't  bloom,  and daddy thought maybe it never would.  Then, the first spring after Uncle Jesse died,  lo and behold, there was one bloom at the very top!  The next year there were so many flowers, it weighed the tree down.  We all said it was Uncle Jesse sending Aunt Pauline "Sweet Magnolias".

"Going To Aunt Della's"

Aunt Della was "giggly" and fun. She lived across the back pasture from us, and years ago we cut a trail leading to her place. Likely as not some critters would cross our path as we kids hurried to Aunt Della's front door, but the dogs chased them away. What was waiting for us was worth the trek. I'm talking hot biscuits and homemade pies! You name it! We always got a big smile and a hug, then it was off to the kitchen in search of treasure. If you were lucky, the biscuts would be hot out of the oven and you would get the one in the middle (it's the best one). We never went home empty handed either. Sometimes we would spend the night and sleep in the canopy bed. Since she didn't have indoor plumbing, we had chamber pots in case we had to "go" in the night. Aunt Della always laughed and said she had a "canopy" over the bed, and a "can of pee" under the bed!

"The Crying Drawer"

I heard my brother yell, "Papaw's hitching the wagon!!"  Oh boy, we jumped off the porch and took off for his place.  He and Granny already had the wagon loaded, but there was still room for us, so we piled in.  It was a nice day, so Papaw and Granny had decided to call on Miss Izora Mae.  She lived about two miles from us (as the crow flies), and she didn't have a husband.  Granny felt sorry for her and said it was pitiful.  Papaw carried some tools in case something needed fixing, and Granny had a basket of eggs because a fox had gotten another one of Miss Izora's hens.  My brother hopped off the wagon along the way and pulled a clump of wildflowers so we kids could be proud that we had something to give.  Miss Izora was at the clothesline when we got there, and she was so glad to see us she made a big fuss about it.  Granny gave her the eggs and Papaw went off to fix the barn door.  We gave her the flowers and she laid them on her window sill.  Over in the corner there was a small chest, and that's where Miss Izora Mae kept her "crying drawer".  She would pull it out on a cloudy day and carefully handle the beloved "treasures" she had tucked away for safe keeping.  It would often make her cry as she touched her first pair of booties and her grandmother's favorite scarf.  Granny told me later that when the wildflowers dried up, Miss Izora Mae put them in her crying drawer.

"Hold On to Your Fork!"

(This is not an original story of mine, but I'm sharing because I like it!)  I heard a story sometime ago about Aunt Gloria.  Seems she called the preacher over to discuss her funeral arrangements.  Firmly, she informed him that she wanted to be buried with her bible in one hand and a fork in the other.  Puzzled, he said, "Well, I understand your reason for the bible, but why the fork?"  Calmly she told him, "When I was a little girl, Mama would set us all down to Sunday dinner and we would eat 'till we surely couldn't hold dessert.  Then mama would take our plates, but she would always tell us, "Hold On To your fork!" We knew then,"the best was yet to come!" ( Aunt Gloria was holding a fork when they buried her)

How You Earned It.

How You Earned It

(This is a joke I heard, not an original story of mine)




A young man asked an old rich man how he made his money.
The old guy fingered his worsted wool vest and said, "Well, son, it was 1932. (The depth of the Great Depression). I was down to my last nickel."
"I invested that nickel in an apple. I spent the entire day polishing the apple and, at the end of the day, I sold the apple for ten cents."
"The next morning, I invested those ten cents in two apples. I spent the entire day polishing them and sold them at 5:00 pm for 20 cents. I continued this system for a month, by the end of which I'd accumulated a fortune of $1.37."
"Then my wife's father died and left us two million dollars."

"The Porch"

If you were at Papaw's house on a hot summer night, it meant everybody was moving to the front porch because it was too hot in the house. There were three porches at Papaw's: the back porch, the front porch; and of course, the "dog porch" (also called "dog trot hall" because that's where they cut through.) Nobody ever sat on the back porch unless they just got in from baling hay or walking through tall grass, or maybe the garden. It was the mud porch, and you didn't dare go in the house 'til all the ticks and dirt got picked off. The dog porch ran straight down the middle of the house, with the living and sleeping areas on one side and the kitchen on the other. Naturally, the dogs slept close to the kitchen door. ( It was their job to dispose of scraps). The front porch however, was a respectable distance from the outhouse, and afforded the best view of the neighbors.

Papaw And The Spring Shed

If you've ever dipped your feet in spring water then you already know how cold it gets. Try taking a bath in it. Whoooo! (Won't hurt you, but that homemade lye soap will nearly take your hide off.) Papaw used to say his nose was "running like a spring branch". That's a branch of the spring which comes through your farm. (a coveted thing). Papaw built a wooden shed over the spring. It was four walls and a roof with no floor, and that's where he kept the potatoes he dug from his garden. He banked them up around the walls so they would stay dry, and then the water from the spring kept the shed cool.