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Updated: June 17, 2025
There was a wide yard in front with shade trees and a lye hopper and a well-box, and a paling fence with a stile in it instead of a gate. At the rear, behind a clutter of outbuildings a barn, a smokehouse and a corncrib was a little peach orchard, and flanking the house on the right there was a good-sized cowyard, empty of stock at this hour, with feedracks ranged in a row against the fence.
The latex is strained and mixed with some acid, usually acetic, in order to coagulate or thicken it. It is then run between rollers, hung in a drying house, and generally in a smokehouse. The rubber arrives at the factory in bales or cases. First of all it must be thoroughly washed in order to get rid of sand or bits of leaves and wood. A machine called a "washer" does this work.
Hard to get a living. I don't mind work. I couldn't do a day's work now. "The young generation is beyond me. I don't be about them much." Interviewer: Mrs. Bernice Bowden Person interviewed: Alice Rivers W. 17th, Highland Addition, Pine Bluff, Arkansas Age: 81 "Yes'm, I remember when the Yankees come. I ricollect when they throwed out all the meat from old master's smokehouse.
We had old candlesticks for lights. We had old homemade tables. All food was kept in the smokehouse and the pantry. The food house and the smokehouse were two of the log cabins in the yard. Schooling He raised me and brought me up just as though I was his own child. "I remember getting one whipping. I didn't get it from Mr. Goodwin though. His brother gave it to me.
He bought the mule from Master Wade Deal. "Old Master Deal used to run us from behind him plowing. We tease him, say what he'd say to the horse or mule. He'd lock us up in the smokehouse. We'd eat dried beef and go to sleep. He was a good old man. "Grandpa Henry Pool went to war. Papa was sold from the Pools to the Deals. Grandpa played with us. He'd put us all up on a horse we called Old Bill.
Some of you broke into my smokehouse night befo' last an' stole all the spar' ribs I'd been savin'. Was you the ones?" "No, ma'am." "Oh, you're all alike," protested the woman, scornfully, "an' a bigger set o' rascals I never seed." "Huh! Who's a rascal?" exclaimed Big Abel, angrily. "This is the reward of doing your duty, Big Abel," remarked Dan, gravely. "Never do it again, remember.
The dye was made by digging up red shank and wild indigo roots which were boiled. The substance obtained being some of the best dye to be found. Bread was made from flour and wheat. The meat used was pork, beef, mutton and goat. For preservation it was smoked and kept in the smokehouse.
It remembered the time when its hospitality was the boast of the countryside, when its stables held the best string of horses in the State; when its smokehouse, now groaning under a pile of lumber, sheltered shoulders of pork, and sides of bacon, and long lines of juicy, sugar-cured hams; when the cellar quartered battalions of cobwebby bottles that stood at attention on the low hanging shelves.
"Mebbe it's paint, Samantha?" suggested the farmer to his wife. "There'd be two gallons of it enough to cover the smokehouse. Ten cents." "The charges are eighty-five," explained Bart "can't start it any lower." A blear-eyed, unsteady individual, whom Bart recognized as a member of the Sharp Corner contingent, advanced to the table.
But what do you suppose? Afterward, when Fatty had grown up, and had children of his own, he often told them about the time he had escaped from the trap in Farmer Green's smokehouse. Fatty's children thought it very exciting. It was their favorite story. And they made their father tell it over and over again.
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