The Milan exchange. (Milan, Gibson County, Tenn.) 1874-1978, 1884-11-08

dren nothln but potatoes, an they got
so sick o potatoes that their mouths
wouldn't open to EN- any more. They'd
u starved to death but for the old mans
holdin' up piece o. meat an motionin'
with it Jest as if he was goin' to feed it
to 'em, but when their mouths d open
he'd shove in lot of potato instead.
He paid David's mother-she that is
Twin still-nine shillin's week wages
after they was married jest the same as
before, an alters locked her when she
was sick an wa mt able to work. She
was his hired help before marryin' him,
you know, an might as well a been
after so far as betterin' her condition
went, for she was Independent when she
was single an could a left him, but
after they was married she want.
never heerd O. her complainin', al
though she had to put up with a good
deal from the old man, an most people
wouldn't a stood it, but she never
murmured, an when he died she
showed genuine sorrow. Mebbe if he'd
died in bed she wouldn't took on so,
but the way it was went hard with her,
an was an awful shock to her nerves.
David didn't take on much though.
his famerly was his slaves. 1t was his
raspin' way that shattered Woodbury.
most folks thinks, an its wonder to
all the neighbors that David an the old
woman stood it as long as they did.
He'd one daughter, an she died after
she'd been married year or SO. Her
husban' brought her body to the old
family buryin' ground to find it's rest
in place, an when they come to cover
| in of it there want no lid to the coffin
box. The old man went to the barn
an pulled out an old hemlock board
that had laid there no one knows how
long, an by little sawin' an chopin
twas made to fit. He charged his SON.
in-law nineteen cents for that board,
the old man did, an made him pay it,
too-nineteen cents for the board that
covered the coffin of his only daughter
If that amt pure pusslanimous mean
ness, hope may never see the back o
my head.
He used to keep a livery-stable,
! David's father did, an made a great
reputation as householder. Farmers
| who came in to town meetin' or to
trade used to put up at his stable an
paid him four shillin's for a mess of
oats for their horses. A shoe factory
down to Beverly failed one summer, an
the assets was sold at public vendoo.
Well, the old man, David's father, you
know, he bought wagon-load O. shoe
pegs for the price of a knittin' needle,
an put them in the oat-bin in the barn.
] The barn was dark, an no one couldn't
tell the oats from shoe-pegs without
| tastin'. So when q critter was left to
be fed the old man'd give him four
quarts o shoe-pegs, an charge four
shillins for the feed.
| Naturally the critter wouldn' eat any
thing, and the farmer he'd worry be-
cause he'd lost his appetite. The old
man had sort O. mixture, made O.
thistle tops, stewed up, which was war
ranted to restore the appetite of horse
in twenty-four hours. 1t was harmless
stuff, an never hurt nobody, but it had
great reputation, for the horse that
wouldn't eat the shoe-pegs would be
| hungry enough to eat his own head off
after he'd got dose or two of it an
had been driven six or eight miles
home.
OF course the medicine got the credit
O. curin' him, an gave the old man a
|
made mite o. money sellin' his thistle
top stew for four shillin's bottle, until
the shoe-peg business was discovered
one day. Then he quit the livery, and
took up drivin' stage
He made money that way, too, an
didn't lose but twenty-five cents all the
years he was at it, That was the time
stranger had fit, an died in the stage
before he'd paid his fare. There wan
no money an no marks on him, to tell
who he was by, an the county had to
bury him. The Commissioners refused
to pay his stage fare, though the old
man worried 'em good deal about it,
an he had to give it up. 1t was the
first an only money he was ever beat
out of, an it was lesson to him, for he
never failed thereafter to collect fares in
advance.
Nothin' but death ever got the start
of David's father
The way he died was awful, an while
David owed the old man nothin' he
hadn't paid twice over, he couldn't but
feel sorry when they brought the body
home. He was so graspin' an mean
that he had but few friends, but what
there was of 'em gave him decent
burial
1t was down on Turkey-foot Spit that
it came about The old man was haul
in sea-weed for manure, an suthin'
about the gearin' O. the team gave way
while he was a-crossin' the beach. He
was alters timid, but he overdid it this
time when he onhitched the team to
keep 'em from startin' while he was
under the wagon. He must a been
a-tinkerin' as he lay upon his back on
| th1, cnrnH fn,. tho oh nlir,,D1.I