Story of John Goingsnake
Dark Holler, 1931
(Least)
N ow see can you read that next part to me, honey.” Granny picks up her rug machine and begins filling in the background on the bottom part of the big rug we have on the frame. I take up the book and begin.
“He was too … young, this little … elf
. Granny, what’s an elf?”
Granny Beck is helping me learn to read! It is our secret, for Mama don’t hold with me learning. She says it will bring the fits on if I work my head too hard. But I have been reading and reading and reading and still not had ary fit!
We started with the Baby Ray book Fairlight gave me when she left, and I can read it all now, every word—all about Baby Ray’s one little dog and two cunning kitty-cats and three white rabbits and four yellow ducks and five pretty chicks.
Baby Ray’s mother sings a go-to-sleep song to him that I have learned for myself. It is this:
I see the moon
,
And the moon sees me
.
God bless the moon and
God bless me
.
Granny Beck says that this is a pretty good song but when I am a little older she will teach me songs that will help me do things—songs of power she calls them.
“Go on, child,” Granny says, “I ain’t for sure but I think an elf is a right small person.”
I read some more—this is a poem. Which is like a song but you just say it instead of singing. This poem is all about a little boy who wants to know when tomorrow will come. And his mama says,
When you wake up and it’s day again
,
It will be tomorrow, my darling, then
.
The book I am reading out of is called
McGuffey’s Fourth Eclectic Reader
and it is much harder than Baby Ray. But I go on reading the poem and now the little boy goes to bed, and when he wakes up, he kisses his mother and asks is it tomorrow. But she says no; now it is today.
Which is aggravating but I have studied on it and there ain’t no way it could be any different. Another thing I have studied on is how all the mothers in these books are so loving to their children, especially at night. I would like it if Mama put me to bed. But she is too wore out, I reckon. And anyway, now I have Granny in my room and that is as nice as can be.
I have never kissed my mother.
“You read that real good,” Granny Beck tells me when I am done. “But I reckon you best get back to the rug lest your mama be ill at us when she comes home. I know Fronie—she’ll have it calculated to the inch how much we should’ve hooked today. Go on now, child; put the book back in the hidey place. And iffen you don’t care, bring me a sup of water when you come back. Then I’ll tell you some more stories while we work.”
I do like she says but instead of water I run quick out to the springhouse and pour off some buttermilk for us. There is cornbread from breakfast and I get that too and fix us each a bowlful. Granny don’t eat much, especially when Mama is watching, and she has gotten thinner since she’s been here.
We have had the whole day to tell stories and practice reading, for Mama has gone with a neighbor all the way into Asheville. She has taken every one of the rugs we have made to sell for top dollar at a place called The Treasure Chest and she won’t be back till after dark.
Me and Granny Beck are sitting on the porch, hooking on a big round rug that is black with red flowers called poppies all over. It is the prettiest thing—I wish we could keep it but Mama says that would be foolish with times as hard as they is—that we will need every cent we have to pay our taxes this year.
Mama is a lot happier about having Granny to live here for now Granny and me are turning out the rugs like one thing. Granny says she likes to do it but I know it hurts her hands and she sometimes has me to bring her a bowl of hot water to soak them in.
I am so glad Granny Beck is living with us. Her and me are Best Friends. Which is good, since Lilah Bel hasgot religion so bad, she don’t hardly ever come up to play, and when she
Dark Holler, 1931
(Least)
N ow see can you read that next part to me, honey.” Granny picks up her rug machine and begins filling in the background on the bottom part of the big rug we have on the frame. I take up the book and begin.
“He was too … young, this little … elf
. Granny, what’s an elf?”
Granny Beck is helping me learn to read! It is our secret, for Mama don’t hold with me learning. She says it will bring the fits on if I work my head too hard. But I have been reading and reading and reading and still not had ary fit!
We started with the Baby Ray book Fairlight gave me when she left, and I can read it all now, every word—all about Baby Ray’s one little dog and two cunning kitty-cats and three white rabbits and four yellow ducks and five pretty chicks.
Baby Ray’s mother sings a go-to-sleep song to him that I have learned for myself. It is this:
I see the moon
,
And the moon sees me
.
God bless the moon and
God bless me
.
Granny Beck says that this is a pretty good song but when I am a little older she will teach me songs that will help me do things—songs of power she calls them.
“Go on, child,” Granny says, “I ain’t for sure but I think an elf is a right small person.”
I read some more—this is a poem. Which is like a song but you just say it instead of singing. This poem is all about a little boy who wants to know when tomorrow will come. And his mama says,
When you wake up and it’s day again
,
It will be tomorrow, my darling, then
.
The book I am reading out of is called
McGuffey’s Fourth Eclectic Reader
and it is much harder than Baby Ray. But I go on reading the poem and now the little boy goes to bed, and when he wakes up, he kisses his mother and asks is it tomorrow. But she says no; now it is today.
Which is aggravating but I have studied on it and there ain’t no way it could be any different. Another thing I have studied on is how all the mothers in these books are so loving to their children, especially at night. I would like it if Mama put me to bed. But she is too wore out, I reckon. And anyway, now I have Granny in my room and that is as nice as can be.
I have never kissed my mother.
“You read that real good,” Granny Beck tells me when I am done. “But I reckon you best get back to the rug lest your mama be ill at us when she comes home. I know Fronie—she’ll have it calculated to the inch how much we should’ve hooked today. Go on now, child; put the book back in the hidey place. And iffen you don’t care, bring me a sup of water when you come back. Then I’ll tell you some more stories while we work.”
I do like she says but instead of water I run quick out to the springhouse and pour off some buttermilk for us. There is cornbread from breakfast and I get that too and fix us each a bowlful. Granny don’t eat much, especially when Mama is watching, and she has gotten thinner since she’s been here.
We have had the whole day to tell stories and practice reading, for Mama has gone with a neighbor all the way into Asheville. She has taken every one of the rugs we have made to sell for top dollar at a place called The Treasure Chest and she won’t be back till after dark.
Me and Granny Beck are sitting on the porch, hooking on a big round rug that is black with red flowers called poppies all over. It is the prettiest thing—I wish we could keep it but Mama says that would be foolish with times as hard as they is—that we will need every cent we have to pay our taxes this year.
Mama is a lot happier about having Granny to live here for now Granny and me are turning out the rugs like one thing. Granny says she likes to do it but I know it hurts her hands and she sometimes has me to bring her a bowl of hot water to soak them in.
I am so glad Granny Beck is living with us. Her and me are Best Friends. Which is good, since Lilah Bel hasgot religion so bad, she don’t hardly ever come up to play, and when she
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