The Cotton Picker
When Mother was in the Wheeler Hospital to have Valerie Jean, the rest of us kids stayed out at the farm. By that time Uncle Bill had built their own house, just down the knoll from Hampy and Daddy Chester's house, on the Home Place. That means there were five of us kids for somebody to watch. Uncle Billy was good about spending time with all of the young people, and we followed him everywhere. Well us older ones were to go to the cotton-patch and pull cotton, mainly because that’s what everyone did at cotton pickin time. That was the main livelihood. Claude Alvin could be intolerably stubborn and hard headed, and I was, when uncle bill sent word for me to come to the cotton field. When I didn't show up, Billy came looking for me. I was pouting and balking something awful. We were just inside the yard gate that led to the animal loafing area, when uncle Bill told me to go to the horse lot and bring back three dried horse biscuits. "OK Claude; you can go to the house and go to bed, or you can eat these horse ( ) . The only other choice you have is to get yourself to the field and pick cotton. I hated daytime naps and that cotton patch with the sand and cotton boles sticking your fingers, didn't seem so bad after all.
by Claude Morgan