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Work Projects Administration

"Arkansas Narratives, Part 2"

I had a habit
of throwin' till I got to be prutty exact bout hittin'. I spied a
hornets nest in a tree long the lane. I knowd them soldiers be long back
fer sompin else, pillagin' bout. It wasn't long show nuff they come back
and went up to the house.
"I got a pile of rocks in my hands. I hid down in the hazel nut bushes.
When they come by gallopin' I throwd an' hit that big old hornets nest.
The way they piled out on them soldiers. You could see em fightin' far
as you could see em wid their blue caps. The horses runnin' and buckin'.
I let out to the house to see what else they carried off.
"I tole Mars White bout how I hit that hornets nest wid the first rock I
throwd. He scolded me, for he said if they had seen me they would killed
me. It scared him. He said don't do no more capers like that. That old
hornets nest soon come down. It was big as a water bucket. Mars White
call me son boy. I tole him what terrible language they used, and bout
some of the horses goin' over the lane fence. It was made outer rails
piled up. Mars White sho was glad they didn't see me. He kept on sayin'
son boy they would killed you right on the spot. Don't do nuthin' to em
to aggravate em.


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