Rookie_Rover
06-05-2005, 05:03 AM
Down south a long time ago, they was a boomin’ industry, which was by some called sellin’ the devil and to others called a fine help to the farmin’ year. My grampaw was a enterpenuwer when it come to this industry, he was the best of them all in all of Snyder’s Corners, the little town we lived in.
Some of you may be a wonderin’ what this industry was, and I’m gettin’ to it. The main part of the industry was makin’ and sellin’ homebrewed corn likker, and it was a big deal down in this area. A talented man could make up a batch that could be used to cure toothache, headaches, stomach aches, back aches, ear aches, ulcers, diabetes, arthritis, and worked as gasoline when the tractor run low.
I will proudly tell you that my grampaw was that talented, he could make up a jug full of brew that would wet and tarnish yore whistle with only one swaller. Back then city boys was talkin’ of how many bushel of corn the got per acre, down here in the south corn farmers would talk of how many gallon per acre they could get.
Some of y’all may be thinkin’ that corn homebrew is again the law, and it was, but when the sheriff would get the idear to come down and sniff grampaw out grampaw would pile brush over it and hide it like it was a brush pile. The law knowed what was going on, but they didn’t have no way to prove it. Grampaw was smart about slippin’ around the law, even though he didn’t do it but just for his little cooking machine.
I came up on his little still one day and asked what it was, and he told me that it weren’t none of my business, and told me to hush up and set down. Grampaw had a deep boomin’ voice, and when he said hush, he let you know he meant hush.
I sat on the stump and watch grampaw working, and doin’ this and drinkin’ that, and doin’ more of this, and drinkin’ more of that, and stumblin’ over this and fallin’ over that, and I thought it was funny, grampaw smacked me a good one in the mouth and told me it wasn’t, and I figured out it wasn’t. I may talk dumb, but I catch on easy and quick.
One day I asked about the little still and what it did do and how it done it. Grampaw told me it weren’t none of my business and I left the house before he showed me it weren’t none of my business. I slipped off down in the woods and found the little ugly thing, and it was ugly, looked like just a pile of coils and barrels and funnels, didn’t look nothin’ like a simple machine to me.
Over by that stump I was sittin’ on I found a little jar full of water, which was a good thing to find ‘cause I was thirsty, and water would go over good about know. I seen that the jar was bout three quarters of the way full, so I twisted the lid off and took a long swaller, cut it down about halfway. I set it down by the stump, laid the lid on the stump, turned around and started trying to study on the machine and figger it out.
Figger’n out that machine was gettin’ hard to do, ‘cause the dang that was a swayin’ around so much, it made it hard to get a good peek at it. It was a swayin’ to the left, and when I’d lean over that way, it’d sway over to the right and it was just trying to confuse me. I finally grabbed it once it got still, and held it in one spot. I looked at it, but my eyes must have knowed it weren’t none of my business, ‘cause they was a blurrin’ on me and just makin’ figger’n this thing out real hard to do.
I started to notice how it had a mean streak to it, and would try to push a young feller down when he wasn’t lookin’, it almost got me a time or two, but I held my own and didn’t let it. I thought to myself how all this fightin’ is makin’ me awful thirsty, so I went back over to the fruit jar and finished ‘er off in a gulp. I tried to put the lid back on, but it would have been easier if the jar would have stood still, it was a weavin’ like a fish, and felt about as slimy too. I finally got the lid started, cross threaded, but started. I tightened ‘er down and set it down on the ground by the stump where I found it, but as I bent over that machine musta pushed me cause I went topplin’ over on my head.
As I wallered around, and got up I decided that since I don’t know how to not play fair the way these fellers down here was not playin’ fair, I’m a leavin’.
I wandered back toward the house, and had a bunch of trouble doin’ it too, every dang tree in the woods would step in my way and it was starting to make me mad. I’m just walkin’ home and these dadblamed trees and bushes are in the mood to play, they didn’t understand that I was a busy young feller and had to get back home.
I got home, and fought the porch for a few minutes tryin’ to keep it still so I could step on it to get in the house and finally got it agreeable to my crawlin’ on my belly to the door. After I got to the door I knowed somethin’ wasn’t right, somebody stole the door handle and took it off with them, ‘cause they weren’t one where I was lookin’ on neither side and I was getting worried, I finally seen that I was not up where the handle was and that was why I couldn’t find it.
I stood up and fought the door to get in the house, some of these things are mean around here, they pick a fight with a young feller who is getting’ tired of it. I walked in the house and dang near got beat to death by the wood door, it kept pushin’ me and trying to throw me back out of the house. Granny and grampaw asked me what was wrong; grampaw thought I was snake bit. “They is aint nothing wrong the matter with me, the world hole is attackening on me and I is a losin’ the fight.” Grampaw took one look at me and drug me up the stairs to bed, where I got put in bed and told I would be punished in the morning. I was startin’ to think the whole world hated me, the still like to have whooped me, the trees got me mad, and the door tried to throw me out of my own house.
The next mornin’ was a doozy, I went to bed just before dark, at about 8 o’clock, and when I woke up it was half past noon, not what you would call a mornin’, but it was the best I could considerin’ the way I felt.
Granny heard me wallerin’ around and busted through the door with a Sledgehammer or something just as loud, she laid in to me with a Bible in one hand and a cut of broom hand in the other, quoting verse ‘n book, and screaming at me.
She finally left and I noticed that my hair probably weighed about 400 pound, ‘cause the weight of it was makin’ my head hurt. By the noise outside, Grampaw was doin’ something with dynamite, I looked out the window and saw he was about 50 yards out the door busting wood with an axe. Something musta have been wrong with my ears ‘cause all these little noises went in one ear, beat on pots ‘n pans in my head and the jumped out the other ear.
My day began with me busting firewood with the loudest axe in all of Snyder’s Corners, and ended with me beating out plow points on an anvil that was the loudest anvil in all of Snyder’s Corners.
Forget Mexico, don’t drink the water in Tennessee.
Some of you may be a wonderin’ what this industry was, and I’m gettin’ to it. The main part of the industry was makin’ and sellin’ homebrewed corn likker, and it was a big deal down in this area. A talented man could make up a batch that could be used to cure toothache, headaches, stomach aches, back aches, ear aches, ulcers, diabetes, arthritis, and worked as gasoline when the tractor run low.
I will proudly tell you that my grampaw was that talented, he could make up a jug full of brew that would wet and tarnish yore whistle with only one swaller. Back then city boys was talkin’ of how many bushel of corn the got per acre, down here in the south corn farmers would talk of how many gallon per acre they could get.
Some of y’all may be thinkin’ that corn homebrew is again the law, and it was, but when the sheriff would get the idear to come down and sniff grampaw out grampaw would pile brush over it and hide it like it was a brush pile. The law knowed what was going on, but they didn’t have no way to prove it. Grampaw was smart about slippin’ around the law, even though he didn’t do it but just for his little cooking machine.
I came up on his little still one day and asked what it was, and he told me that it weren’t none of my business, and told me to hush up and set down. Grampaw had a deep boomin’ voice, and when he said hush, he let you know he meant hush.
I sat on the stump and watch grampaw working, and doin’ this and drinkin’ that, and doin’ more of this, and drinkin’ more of that, and stumblin’ over this and fallin’ over that, and I thought it was funny, grampaw smacked me a good one in the mouth and told me it wasn’t, and I figured out it wasn’t. I may talk dumb, but I catch on easy and quick.
One day I asked about the little still and what it did do and how it done it. Grampaw told me it weren’t none of my business and I left the house before he showed me it weren’t none of my business. I slipped off down in the woods and found the little ugly thing, and it was ugly, looked like just a pile of coils and barrels and funnels, didn’t look nothin’ like a simple machine to me.
Over by that stump I was sittin’ on I found a little jar full of water, which was a good thing to find ‘cause I was thirsty, and water would go over good about know. I seen that the jar was bout three quarters of the way full, so I twisted the lid off and took a long swaller, cut it down about halfway. I set it down by the stump, laid the lid on the stump, turned around and started trying to study on the machine and figger it out.
Figger’n out that machine was gettin’ hard to do, ‘cause the dang that was a swayin’ around so much, it made it hard to get a good peek at it. It was a swayin’ to the left, and when I’d lean over that way, it’d sway over to the right and it was just trying to confuse me. I finally grabbed it once it got still, and held it in one spot. I looked at it, but my eyes must have knowed it weren’t none of my business, ‘cause they was a blurrin’ on me and just makin’ figger’n this thing out real hard to do.
I started to notice how it had a mean streak to it, and would try to push a young feller down when he wasn’t lookin’, it almost got me a time or two, but I held my own and didn’t let it. I thought to myself how all this fightin’ is makin’ me awful thirsty, so I went back over to the fruit jar and finished ‘er off in a gulp. I tried to put the lid back on, but it would have been easier if the jar would have stood still, it was a weavin’ like a fish, and felt about as slimy too. I finally got the lid started, cross threaded, but started. I tightened ‘er down and set it down on the ground by the stump where I found it, but as I bent over that machine musta pushed me cause I went topplin’ over on my head.
As I wallered around, and got up I decided that since I don’t know how to not play fair the way these fellers down here was not playin’ fair, I’m a leavin’.
I wandered back toward the house, and had a bunch of trouble doin’ it too, every dang tree in the woods would step in my way and it was starting to make me mad. I’m just walkin’ home and these dadblamed trees and bushes are in the mood to play, they didn’t understand that I was a busy young feller and had to get back home.
I got home, and fought the porch for a few minutes tryin’ to keep it still so I could step on it to get in the house and finally got it agreeable to my crawlin’ on my belly to the door. After I got to the door I knowed somethin’ wasn’t right, somebody stole the door handle and took it off with them, ‘cause they weren’t one where I was lookin’ on neither side and I was getting worried, I finally seen that I was not up where the handle was and that was why I couldn’t find it.
I stood up and fought the door to get in the house, some of these things are mean around here, they pick a fight with a young feller who is getting’ tired of it. I walked in the house and dang near got beat to death by the wood door, it kept pushin’ me and trying to throw me back out of the house. Granny and grampaw asked me what was wrong; grampaw thought I was snake bit. “They is aint nothing wrong the matter with me, the world hole is attackening on me and I is a losin’ the fight.” Grampaw took one look at me and drug me up the stairs to bed, where I got put in bed and told I would be punished in the morning. I was startin’ to think the whole world hated me, the still like to have whooped me, the trees got me mad, and the door tried to throw me out of my own house.
The next mornin’ was a doozy, I went to bed just before dark, at about 8 o’clock, and when I woke up it was half past noon, not what you would call a mornin’, but it was the best I could considerin’ the way I felt.
Granny heard me wallerin’ around and busted through the door with a Sledgehammer or something just as loud, she laid in to me with a Bible in one hand and a cut of broom hand in the other, quoting verse ‘n book, and screaming at me.
She finally left and I noticed that my hair probably weighed about 400 pound, ‘cause the weight of it was makin’ my head hurt. By the noise outside, Grampaw was doin’ something with dynamite, I looked out the window and saw he was about 50 yards out the door busting wood with an axe. Something musta have been wrong with my ears ‘cause all these little noises went in one ear, beat on pots ‘n pans in my head and the jumped out the other ear.
My day began with me busting firewood with the loudest axe in all of Snyder’s Corners, and ended with me beating out plow points on an anvil that was the loudest anvil in all of Snyder’s Corners.
Forget Mexico, don’t drink the water in Tennessee.