born and raised there…”
“How long you been here?” asked Mrs. Foster.
“About eight months,” said Mrs. Barker. “We just got this houseboat last winter. Seth paid five hundred dollars for it.”
“It’s nice and cozy,” said Mrs. Foster, “for just you two. Wouldn’t be big enough for a family of kids like mine.”
Mrs. Barker asked the children how old they were and passed around cookies. Then they went out to play and the two women talked alone.
“How you makin’ out, really, Edie?”
“Purty good,” said Mrs. Barker. “Seth gets a hundred and eighty-six dollars a month as lamplighter, but he has to furnish his own boats and motors and his own gas and oil. That doesn’t leave too much for us. So I figgered if we stayed here in Arkansas this fall, I could help out by pickin’ cotton in my spare time. One woman told me she makes sixty dollars a month at it. Of course I’m gettin’ old and can’t pick very fast, but…”
“I just won’t pick that stuff,” said Mrs. Foster. “I tried it for two weeks once, but didn’t like it.”
“Well, I thought I’d do it,” said Mrs. Barker. “They’re always needin’ pickers, and you can go at your own speed. Why don’t you come with me? I’ll introduce you to Mr. George, the boss man.”
Mrs. Foster laughed. “If I’d go to pickin’ cotton, we’d be broke in two days’ time. No, I’ll let Big Abe catch fish and sell ’em and I’ll take in the money.”
“Is he aimin’ to fish?” asked Mrs. Barker. “Here, at O’Donald Bend?”
“Yes,” said Mrs. Foster. “We got a good place down under the river bank, below the store there. Abe’ll put a sign out.”
“Andy Dillard won’t like that!” said Mrs. Barker.
“Who’s Andy Dillard?”
Patsy came in just in time to hear what Mrs. Barker said.
“Andy’s got a fish house down below us here, at the ferry landing. He sells to folks goin’ back and forth to Tennessee on the ferry, and to the cotton pickers, too.”
“Is there a store down there?” asked Mrs. Foster.
“It used to be a store and we ran it for a while,” said Mrs. Barker. “I did it, Seth didn’t help much. I sold soft drinks, peanuts, chewing gum and candy, maybe a few cakes and pies, but no beer. We’re Christians and don’t believe in it. I did that for a while, but didn’t make out very well, so I quit.”
“So it’s a fish house now?” asked Mrs. Foster.
“Yes,” said Mrs. Barker, “and Andy Dillard acts like he owns the whole Mississippi River. Don’t say I didn’t warn you!”
Mrs. Foster called the smaller children and they came running.
“Look, Mama,” cried Patsy, pointing down the river bank. “Aunt Edie’s got a whole yard full of chickens and a garden and a line for clothes down there. And look at her pretty flowers!” The window boxes on the houseboat were filled with red geraniums. “Aren’t they purty?”
“They sure are,” said Mrs. Foster. “I never was one to mess with flowers myself.”
“They’re no work,” said Aunt Edie. “You just stick ’em in the ground and they grow.”
“Not for me they don’t,” said Mrs. Foster. “They fold up and die.”
A cat came up and rubbed against Mrs. Barker’s leg. “Go away, Ten-Spot!” she said.
“What’s the cat’s name?” asked Patsy.
“Ten-Spot.” Mrs. Barker laughed. “That’s our ten-dollar cat!”
Mrs. Foster and the children stared. The cat did not have long hair, and it was not a Siamese, in fact it looked very common and ordinary. Its color was a mixture of yellow, white, gray and black.
“You don’t mean to tell me you was a big enough fool to pay ten dollars for that…that skinny old alley cat!” exclaimed Mrs. Foster. “It looks like something somebody threw out in the dark!”
Mrs. Barker laughed.
“It’s a ten-dollar cat all right,” she said, “but we didn’t buy it. A man borrowed ten dollars from Seth and left this cat, so he calls it his ten-dollar cat—Ten-Spot
“How long you been here?” asked Mrs. Foster.
“About eight months,” said Mrs. Barker. “We just got this houseboat last winter. Seth paid five hundred dollars for it.”
“It’s nice and cozy,” said Mrs. Foster, “for just you two. Wouldn’t be big enough for a family of kids like mine.”
Mrs. Barker asked the children how old they were and passed around cookies. Then they went out to play and the two women talked alone.
“How you makin’ out, really, Edie?”
“Purty good,” said Mrs. Barker. “Seth gets a hundred and eighty-six dollars a month as lamplighter, but he has to furnish his own boats and motors and his own gas and oil. That doesn’t leave too much for us. So I figgered if we stayed here in Arkansas this fall, I could help out by pickin’ cotton in my spare time. One woman told me she makes sixty dollars a month at it. Of course I’m gettin’ old and can’t pick very fast, but…”
“I just won’t pick that stuff,” said Mrs. Foster. “I tried it for two weeks once, but didn’t like it.”
“Well, I thought I’d do it,” said Mrs. Barker. “They’re always needin’ pickers, and you can go at your own speed. Why don’t you come with me? I’ll introduce you to Mr. George, the boss man.”
Mrs. Foster laughed. “If I’d go to pickin’ cotton, we’d be broke in two days’ time. No, I’ll let Big Abe catch fish and sell ’em and I’ll take in the money.”
“Is he aimin’ to fish?” asked Mrs. Barker. “Here, at O’Donald Bend?”
“Yes,” said Mrs. Foster. “We got a good place down under the river bank, below the store there. Abe’ll put a sign out.”
“Andy Dillard won’t like that!” said Mrs. Barker.
“Who’s Andy Dillard?”
Patsy came in just in time to hear what Mrs. Barker said.
“Andy’s got a fish house down below us here, at the ferry landing. He sells to folks goin’ back and forth to Tennessee on the ferry, and to the cotton pickers, too.”
“Is there a store down there?” asked Mrs. Foster.
“It used to be a store and we ran it for a while,” said Mrs. Barker. “I did it, Seth didn’t help much. I sold soft drinks, peanuts, chewing gum and candy, maybe a few cakes and pies, but no beer. We’re Christians and don’t believe in it. I did that for a while, but didn’t make out very well, so I quit.”
“So it’s a fish house now?” asked Mrs. Foster.
“Yes,” said Mrs. Barker, “and Andy Dillard acts like he owns the whole Mississippi River. Don’t say I didn’t warn you!”
Mrs. Foster called the smaller children and they came running.
“Look, Mama,” cried Patsy, pointing down the river bank. “Aunt Edie’s got a whole yard full of chickens and a garden and a line for clothes down there. And look at her pretty flowers!” The window boxes on the houseboat were filled with red geraniums. “Aren’t they purty?”
“They sure are,” said Mrs. Foster. “I never was one to mess with flowers myself.”
“They’re no work,” said Aunt Edie. “You just stick ’em in the ground and they grow.”
“Not for me they don’t,” said Mrs. Foster. “They fold up and die.”
A cat came up and rubbed against Mrs. Barker’s leg. “Go away, Ten-Spot!” she said.
“What’s the cat’s name?” asked Patsy.
“Ten-Spot.” Mrs. Barker laughed. “That’s our ten-dollar cat!”
Mrs. Foster and the children stared. The cat did not have long hair, and it was not a Siamese, in fact it looked very common and ordinary. Its color was a mixture of yellow, white, gray and black.
“You don’t mean to tell me you was a big enough fool to pay ten dollars for that…that skinny old alley cat!” exclaimed Mrs. Foster. “It looks like something somebody threw out in the dark!”
Mrs. Barker laughed.
“It’s a ten-dollar cat all right,” she said, “but we didn’t buy it. A man borrowed ten dollars from Seth and left this cat, so he calls it his ten-dollar cat—Ten-Spot
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