FISHING

     In 1895, when I was a bout ten years old, my Pa and a neighbor decided to go fishing one Sunday, and take us boys. We took two teams of horses and went to a lake that wasn't very far away.

     Pa and the neighbor cut down some long trees, long enough to reach across the lake. They tied them together and got a lot of grapevines and fastened them to the logs to make a drag. Then they hitched a team onto the, one on each side of the lake, and dragged the lake for fish. We spent the day catching fish.

     Pa and his friends had forgotten that it was against the law to fish on Sunday. We had caught a sixty gallon barrel full of fish. When Monday morning came, Pa and his neighbor were arrested for fishing on Sunday. It was the first time my Pa had ever been brought into court. They were each fined $3.60. It was the last time Pa ever went fishing on Sunday.

OLD TOM

     Along about this time we had an old family horse. We called him old Tom. We all love him. Any member of the family could ride him. Even Ma could get on him and go anywhere she wanted to go.

     There came a time when old Tom got sick. There wasn't a horse doctor anywhere around, and Pa didn't know just exactly what do to for him, so he died. We all cried for old Tom. He was just like on of the family.

     Pa had to drag him off into the woods. My sister, Dora, and I would go visit    old Tom's body every day. That is, as long as there was a piece of him left. Every evening after Dora would wash the dishes she would say to me,  "Fratus, let's go see old Tom and

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