Browning chief., 1945-03-16
CHAPTER VIII

the whole thing managed slowly and
artfully, for the mules would stand
more or less quietly, not knowing
what to make of it all. Some way
or other, Newt would get in and
when he was in he would ease up
on the lines and then suddenly slap
them-and out of the gate the wagon
would 60. My job was to swing on
the end Of the wagon and get up in
it, and there we would be, Newt and
the mules and I. The mules didn't
like this strange monster rattling
and clanking along behind them and
their ears would be tossing back
and forth, pretty well convinced ev-
erything was not right, but wanting
to get little better size-up of it.
Newt had a theory that no mule
was any good until he had run away;
couldn't trust him, he said. So he
believed in taking the twig and bend
ing it early.
Suddenly Newt would give the
front of the wagon kick and let off
an ear-splitting yell. The effect this
had on the mules was astonishing.
Their heads would go forward and
their ears would go back and down
the road they would start at full
speed, with the wagon rafting and
swaying and leaping behind. The
faster they ran the better he liked
it; and so did I, although my heart
was in my mouth.
We always dreaded to meet any,
body, but, such is human nature, we
always hoped we would.
A neighbor, jogging along in his
buggy, could see US half a mile
away; certainly he could hear us a
mile. And when he saw the wagon
tearing toward him, he would pull
his team on the side of the road,
then leap out and take his horses by
the bits.
Past him we would go, the wagon
bouncing and rafting, and the mans
own horses trembling in their traces
as if the crack of doom had burst
in their ears. Now and then we
would meet a man with a load of
hogs; the poor soul would have to
pull over and he and the hogs would
have to take their chances. Some
times, it seemed to me, the width of
a pencil mark lay between us and
the other wagon, but in some mirac-
ulous way we always got past, and
would leave the hog hauler mutter-
ing frightful curses.
At last, we would come home, the
brake off and the mules tired, their
ears pitching hardly at all. There
would be a little furry when we
tried to unhitch them, but not much.
Then to the watering trough and a
good feed of corn in the stable.
And there Newt would stand, giving
them love pats as they chomped,
and talking to them as if they were
children.
This wild ride was not only once,
but many times each fall, for Newt
bought mule colts and broke them !;
or he brought range mules and
broke them. This was smarter than
it might possibly seem, for "broke"
mules brought from $40 to $40 a
pair more than ungentled mules. Not
only did he get the money, but he
also got the fun. And the very peo-
Pile who had denounced him when
they had seen him coming down the
road, would wish they could get the
fun out of things that Newt could.
l liked Newt because he liked fun
and because he wrote the One-Horse
Farmer. Sometimes I would think.
II were writing the One-Horse
Farmer, the kind of items l would
send in.
In November Phebe would say,
"Aunt, don't you think it is about
time to have the quilting party?"
She would never say because we
had one each year.
My mother would say, Eyes, l
think it is. Go ahead and get things
ready"
My mother always had charge OF
the Sunday dinners, swimming par
ties, sausage making, and so on. but
Phebe was the quilter in our family
and Quilting Day belonged to her.
She was the best quilter in the
neighborhood and was immensely
proud of her ability.
A thousand things had to be done.
Cloth and thread and cotton had to
be bought. "Homer, will you bring
home some chalk?" she would say
Word would be sent to the neigh.
bors we were to have our quilting on
a certain day, and, as the time ap.
preached, our house would get bust.
.er and buster. There would be rolls
of batten and piles of cloth, and Out
would come the rag bag we had
been keeping all year. and Phebe
would hunt through it and lay out ir
little piles the odds and ends for the
crazy quilt.
She would come to a piece ano
show it 70 my mother and theil