Memories of home
by Wilma Lois Robinson Payne
We rented a farm south of Lone Chimney where we raised cotton. When we had to hoe cotton or pick it, we got to stop and get a pop. Daddy always chewed “Days Work”. He just cut off a piece when he wanted a chew. One day when we were picking cotton, Fred and I thought we should have something to chew also. We fussed until he gave us a small piece. Fred challenged me on how fast and good he was at chewing and wanted to know if I was as good as him. Naturally I had to do everything better than him. I opened my mouth to show him I was really chewing and naturally all the juice went down my throat. I became very sick and had to rest under a tree. Fred had spit his out.