I wish that I had the eloquence to express my appreciation of your chain letter.  I think it cannot be done in my language, so I will just say that it was a reviving tonic to the spirit of an old man.

Seriously, it recalled so many things which I had "laid on the shelf", and to think of the million times I had said "Miss Carrie" and I never thought of what you thought of.  I appreciated the humor in that one and it made me laugh, the first time I have really laughed in so long, and I wish that I could laugh more.

I wonder if we should get together more often and laugh more, if it would do more to ward off senility than all the medicines and vitamins in Hackensack.

Sometimes I think that old age is a form of hibernation, or a combination of hibernation and plain laziness.  It is so easy to say "I'm tired out", so we relax or try to, and let our sales go to pot, whatever that means.

I suppose it is my nature to blow "hot and cold", but I'm a believer and I believe everything I hear, consequently, my perspective makes like a jumping bean.

You thought you were meandering in your letter.  So am I.  I think you mentioned all the "remembers", but do you remember the old nigger man walkin' fast on Main Street?  And do you remember the wholly sanitary conditions in Ft. Worth?  The big boxes they used under the two holers?  Grace and I were carrying a "brand" new one and she dropped her end (of the box), then I dropped mine and it slid off my right heel, scraping out "me" long and deep.  About the same time, Grandpa Odell visited us and Bob and Gene stole a cut of his "chewin" and hid it in a stack of cross ties across the H&TC.  That night it rained and the plug swelled to about 2 inches in thickness.  I took a big chaw and as little Abner says "the first chomp was delicious", to this day I remember how sick I was.

I remember very well the day we three left home, how Grace and I were going to get jobs and not let you work because you were little.  I can't believe it.  I wonder if there was a job for anyone, anywhere then.

I must correct you In regard to the hog tail sauce.  It was souse, not sauce.  Do you remember your chronic tummy ache?  How many times have I had my fanny fanned for hitting you in the stomach?  I could be ten feet away and say something you didn't appreciate and you would yell "MaMa - Ray hit me in the stomach" - then I "had it".

Remember when you fell of Frances Albertson's horse?  You were slap happy, and all you could think about was getting a whippin?  I remember very well Old Knife the J.A. and also the old gray one branded AN on the left hip and Gertie called "an burro".

Do you remember "Old Speck" the old red and white milk cow?  One time at the Apple John place I went down in the field to get Old Speck.  She had a long rope and as I started heading her back she threw a kink in her tail and headed for the barn.  The last coil of the rope threw a half hitch around my foot and the race was on.  The field was covered with caliche rocks, and to this day I think I know how a ship feels when it hits a reef.

Do you remember the spelling matches every Friday at the old school house on the corner where Boyd's Garage and Courts are now located?  Prof. Martin lined us up according to size (not intelligence) and started with six letter words and down the line to three and two letter words.  How well I remember one time when the second kid ahead of me went down on "ran", he spelled it RUN.  The next one said RON.  I was so excited because I knew how to spell it, and when the word  came to me I said R-I-N.

Do you remember when the Caviness Bros. Butchered a cow behind the old school house or rather the new school house then - the one next to our old home?  The cow had a calf (unborn) and Johnnie H. and I took it by the legs and "slung" it into the little lobby in the school house.  My guardian angel made me step back and old "Pige" Gaines took my place to see the excitement, and he hid.  I don't remember who the teacher was, Bernice Judkins I think, anyway, they grabbed Johnnie and "Pige" and beat the H--- out of them before "Pige" could say "I didn't do it".

And the stoves in the new brick school house with the water reservoir on the back, do you remember?  One time Johnnie H. and I added some water which did not come directly from the usual source.  This addition occurred in the winder and for quite sometime afterward the stench discouraged the comfort and practicability of modern heating.

Do you remember when J.H. and I painted a picture of the devil on the wall with black enamel?  It took soap, lye, sandpaper and all of our spare time for weeks to dim it in the least.  Modern chemistry has nothing on the old school when it comes to making paint with staying qualities.

Do you remember the baby ground squirrel, a gift from Oatman to Gertrude?  One day it got away and ran under a big galvanized tank outside of our yard.  Old big-hearted me went out to help her catch it.  I rolled the tank over and we found the squirrel, flat as a paper all except its eyes, and they were about two inches out in front of its head.  Gertie turned on the tears and I felt like a murderer.

For some reason that reminds me of the morning Gertie flatly accused me of smoking (when I had been) and I heaved an old speller across the house at her (that was before partitions).  It hit her on the upper arm and she carried a big bruise for weeks and that reminds me of the time I threw a table fork at Jennie - same house, no partitions.  The fork stuck deep in her thigh.  They thought for a while that it might prove serious, so that reminds me of the time I started through the kitchen when Mother was frying chicken.  I grabbed a piece (strictly against the rules) and started to run.  Mother changed ends with the fork and intended to crack me on the head with the handle but as I ran the fork slipped from her hand and stuck me squarely and deeply in my tail bone.  That was an embarrassing ordeal for me.  I was about fourteen at the time and Mother made me expose my posterior so she could put turpentine on my wound.  That too was disastrous.  I was standing up and she poured the turpentine from the bottle.  Naturally there was a surplus and from that day I have sympathized with the proverbial "turpentined cat".

Remember the time we drove the shoe tacks in the threshold of the dining room door?  Some were driven in and some were half way in.  that night, the coyotes got into the chickens and Dad grabbed his scatter gun and started out the dining room door.  Naturally he didn't step over the threshold.  The tacks tore jagged wounds in his foot and he forgot all about coyotes and chickens. 

If I were writing this to a brother, I just might let my hair down and reveal some of the "unpardonables" charged to my account.  For instance the time J.H. and I went to the little boys room in a bucket (at night) and took a couple of paddles and went down the main drag in Balmorhea, anointing door handles on all of the business houses.  The city dads were quite hostile over that one and for once J.H. and I were not accused.

Another time J. and I got on the roof of Sam Gordon's (the Jew) store and dropped a brick down the stove pipe.  This was in the summer and the stove had been moved and one of those pretty picture things stuck in the ceiling hole.  Naturally, the brick carried everything with it including about two gallons of soot.  What a mess and poor old Sam busted his gusset.  That's about all he could have done except to cause J. and I to get a whippin.

Remember the little blue mule that Sam Stewart had?  Always staked on a long rope and wild as a March hare.  Every time we went by on our way to town we "boogered" him and made him hit the end of the rope.  I think he finally got so he would run almost to the end then fall down.

Do you remember the time that Bob and Gertie and maybe Jennie started somewhere in the buggy, driving Old Burney and Burney kicked all the font end off the buggy?  And the time Gertie and someone started out with the same conveyance.  Gertie had a white dress and Burney had something else and trip was cancelled?

I bet you don't remember how embarrassed Grace was when Gene told her about Pete Robinson having a tick in his navel, only he said nable.  And the first time John left home and was living in Pecos.  That was at the time Dad was building the house at Balmorhea.  Late one evening you, Grace and I came home and Dad was working on the roof and Charley Hart was up on the ladder talking to him and you thought it was John.  You ran up under the latter and said hi John - John why don't  you speak to me?  I remember how disappointed you were and how disappointed I was, and I knew all the time who it was.

Do you remember the morning the Burke baby died?  Dad and I had been over to Horn Carpenters and on the way we met Mr. Williams (Pete's dad) and he was telling Dad how he was suffering with the piles.  When we came home you told me about the death of the baby and I said I guess it had the piles.  How superior I felt.  I knew you had never heard the word before.  I think that is the last time I ever felt superior to anyone.

We missed so many things when we were kids but we had a lot of fun anyway.  I think the happiest times of my life was when we were all  at home, sitting around the stove in the winter.  Maybe the stove was heated with cow chips or old tires, but they kept us warm.

Do you remember when Gene would get his 45 single action cold without a front sight and make me do all the hard chores?  He would shoot so close that I thought I  could feel the wind from the slug as it passed me.

It must be nice for old men who are able to sit at home with their feet propped up, living in memories.  After one of these memory sessions, I dread just a little, going back to the salt mines but then I think how thankful I am that I have one to go to and am able to go.

I have this day resolved that I shall try to see my brothers and sisters more often.   I hesitate to inject an unhappy thought into our memories, nevertheless, we have gone far past the average length of time without a break in our generation and we should not be surprised when it comes.  So I think we should make the most of the remaining times.

If John should write of his childhood, I'm sure it would be hilarious reading.  I remember one time at the Hudson farm, I went to the barn with John one night after dark.  We had a lantern and while we were there I was induced by a bit of persuasion and legerdemain on John's part, to contact a certain nether and pendant portion of my anatomy with the top of a hot lantern.  After the "fusion" and confusion, John convinced me that it was all my fault.

Another time when they were butchering hogs, John convinced me that it was my civic duty to compare the length of a dead hog's tail with my finger.  John held the tail straight and I obligingly placed my finger alongside it.  I should have known a sudden vigorous assist on my elbow caused me to explore farther into the "innards" of a hog than should be reasonably expected of a five year old boy.  I can see John laughing yet.