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PLAIN HORSE PLAY• « • | *' v •r T .yi - ** *; / r“ *' I u tW, J-J - •* » */:•* J- * ■’*By Lonnie E. LeggeMr ► *1* THE dajrs of backwoods, log barn raisings, men seemed to bt stronger; but maybe not wiser as was Uj the case of Rube Kel ley’s city,, cousin James Walden who was-taking his summer vaca tion in the mountains.Rube called James one morning •s usual at four-thirty saying; “If you are going to Mose Higby’s barn raising with me. you’d betterUght a shuck.”James answered, “All right, but he thought, “How in the devi1can you build a bam in the dark?” He arose and washed in the tin basin at the kitchen-door benchInside the kitchen they all sat down tq heaping platters of ham and eggs, hot biscuits, butter andcoffee strong enough to float aniron Wedge.Break of day found them both well oh their way to Mose Higby’s farm down on the creek. The community men began arriving with their women folks and chil-wagons, buggies and horseback. By sun-up some twen ty-flve or thirty men were assem bled w^ere the logs lay, peeled and notched. The work went along fast until the logs had to be skidded higher and higher by main Sti^ngth and awkwardness Noon found them well along with ttie work as they stopped for the fea;st prepared by the neighborhood women and ser /ed on boards laid across sawhorses un der the shade trees.All the mountain people knew James * Walden, but considered him a city slicker and fair game for their horse-play He was nottaking a hand in their play as hewas nigh pooped with the morning’s work. But when young Bill Higiiy began to peel an Indian turnip or Jack-in-the-pulpit which be had uprooted from a clump of bushes,, James’ curiosity got the better of him and he asked: “What.« that thjng?”“Indian turnip.” Bill replied.Is it- good to eat? he then asked.St^re, here take this one, I’ll cet another. ” But, Bill decided to‘look for it far away from there.James finished peeling the tur-nip. then took a big bite; spitting it out al/nost with the samemotion. He started running for the spring yelling;“Hell’s fire! Give me some wa-*er. I’m burning up!” He soonound out that water, coffee, milk, /tnegar or whiskey would not put -hat fire out and it would ragefor hours.He swore, “I’ll kill that Bill Hi^by if it’s my last act ” But before the evening was over and the dancing had bemin the burn-■ng had stopped and he laughed with the rest of them, but probably, not as loud or long.Indian turnip does not blister but leaves a burning sensation in your mouth like ten thousand red-hot needles were sticking in it. The burning stops in four or five hours with seemingly no ill effects, but no one takes the second biteSome tirrn. that fall after James had returned to the city. Bill received a letter postmarked from James' home town. He tore it open hastily wondering who would be writing from there There were several sheets of blank paper which he turned this wav and that trying to discover some writing, but all that was visible was a fine powder sifting out. “Talcum powder. said Bill with contempt as he held it up and sniffed it. He finally bundled the whole thing up and stuck it in his hip pocket while scratching his nose. Both hands started itchingat the same time He scratched first one and then the other, \frhile various parts of his body began itching violently, and so fast it was impossible to scratch them all. As he began to itch right under his pistol pocket a sudden light seemed to burst right in front of his ’eyes.Bill, who had never heard of “itching powders” before, stood still for a moment, then started home on a flatfoot run saying:“Holy cow! that city slicker hassent me the seven-year-itch.”
Newspaper Details
Concord Enterprise
Concord, Massachusetts, US
Thu, Oct 28, 1954
Page 14
Full Page
Clipped by
Anonymous
WV, USA 11 Apr 2022
Other Publications Near Concord, Massachusetts
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Concord Middlesex Gazette
Concord Middlesex Observer
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Concord Enterprise
