I remember one of those parties when some young people came in a buggy from quite a distance away. I think I was about nine years old and, of course, I didn't know all about everything that went on around me but I knew enough to realize there were some bad feelings between their families and some of those in our immediate neighborhood. The main reason seemed to be that those youngsters attended dances in other communities and some parents in our neighborhood sure didn't approve of that.
The incident I remember had to do with their buggy horse which got sick with a severe attack of colic while the party was going on. Someone had wandered outside and had discovered the horse in great pain. The boy who owned the animal had seen the disease before and knew how quickly it could kill a good horse. So he offered to sell the animal to anyone for $10. It would have been a bargain for Papa, because he knew exactly what to do to cure the horse. And the horse was probably worth $50.
When Papa learned about the problem, he got a quart bottle, filled it about a quarter-full of soda and then added about a half-quart of kerosene. Then he climbed up in a tree, pulled the horse's head high in the air with the bridle reins and poured the mixture down his throat. Within ten minutes, the horse was without pain and resting comfortably, except for a mighty bad taste in his mouth.
I think the boy was truly grateful that Papa had not taken advantage of him by buying the horse. Will Johnson knew that a good name was rather to be chosen than the value of a buggy horse.
Along with sweethearts, there were a few other things I didn't understand altogether. One time during my younger days, I cut out a picture of a baby buggy from a Sears, Roebuck catalog. I don't remember just how old I was at the time. I was old enough to do a pretty good job of cutting out, but I didn't do so well with my reasoning. I was disappointed to learn that the buggy wouldn't sit up and roll.
That was not altogether a case of stupidity but rather, a lack of research. This was part of the research through which I learned about the third dimension.
It's hard to believe a kid that stupid could become so smart within the next few years and retain that smartness for the rest of his life.
We also learned—not through research, but from concerned parents, about the choice of words to use, the careful choice, I might add.
Some words were strictly forbidden. The word "bull" was one of them. We didn't dare use that word in the presence of Papa or Mama. And if any of the other kids heard us use it, they would tattle on us. So, we just didn't use it. We were taught to use the word "surley" instead.
As late as 1940 I knew middle-aged men who would not use the word "bull" before a woman. One old farmer said, "I don't know what the world is coming to. I believe the time will come when men and women will use the word 'bull' in mixed company and think nothing of it."