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Updated: June 22, 2025
It was just as well, since clear-seed fruit, peeled, shrinks unconscionably to small scrawny knots, inclined to be sticky though it is but just to add, that in cooking, it comes back to almost its original succulence. When the peach-cutting was done, there was commonly a watermelon feast. Especially at Mammy's house Daddy's watermelons were famed throughout the county.
None of them would have taken an apple out of a market-wagon, or stolen a melon from a farmer who came to town with it; but they would all have thought it fun, if not right, to rob an orchard or hook a watermelon out of a patch.
It broke upon him like a revelation. He was at work one fine morning in his garden, in a square in which young watermelon plants of a choice kind were just springing. Willie was there with him, just emerged fresh for fun from the waters of sleep.
He put a pin in the teacher's chair an' she set down on it plumb up to the head, an' he tie the strings together what two nigger gals had they hair wropped with, an' he squoze up a little boy's legs in front of him with a rooster foot tell he squalled out loud, an' he th'owed spitballs, an' he make him some watermelon teeth, an' he paint a chicken light red an' tuck it to the teacher fer a dodo, an' he put cotton in his pants 'fore he got licked, an' he drawed the teacher on a slate.
I understand, my friend for three centimes I can eat, drink, and wash my face, all by means of one of those slices of watermelon you display there on a little table. But Occidental prejudices would prevent me from enjoying that simple pleasure freely and frankly. And how could I suck a watermelon? I have enough to do mereley to keep on my feet in this crowd.
My pride grew with the melon and, by and by, my uncle tried to express the extent and nature of my riches by calling me a mellionaire. I didn't know much about myself those days except the fact that my name was Bart Baynes and, further, that I was an orphan who owned a watermelon and a little spotted hen and lived on Rattle road in a neighborhood called Lickitysplit.
Anna and Yulka showed me three small barrels; one full of dill pickles, one full of chopped pickles, and one full of pickled watermelon rinds. 'You wouldn't believe, Jim, what it takes to feed them all! their mother exclaimed. 'You ought to see the bread we bake on Wednesdays and Saturdays! It's no wonder their poor papa can't get rich, he has to buy so much sugar for us to preserve with.
What part of it will you eat in one day?" The expectant look faded out of the poor girl's face. One peach to last nine days! No wonder the question seemed impossible of solution. "Well, then," said Miss Harper quite in despair and almost perspiring in her effort to make it plain to the child, "we'll let the peach go. Suppose instead, it were a watermelon.
If ever a tempted soul longed for a forbidden treasure, 'Mazin' Grace longed for the watermelon stockings. "Effen they was mine, I'd give you one anyways," she argued with Nell, but to no avail. In the back yard stood a big old chicken-coop, which had been cleaned out and nicely whitewashed for the children to use as a play-house.
Two henchmen almost immediately appeared with a large nut-shell of unfamiliar appearance, it was about the size of a half watermelon and bright red on the outside, full of a pale pink liquid. The chief, one or two of the leading men, and the rest of my party were similarly equipped. Raising his shell the chief and nobles said simultaneously "Wha-e-a" and we drank.
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