Monday, May 31

Sweet Be The Dew Of Their Memory

I was born in Perry County some little time ago. I decided to be born at Hazard, and have been tickled pink about it ever since. When I was about a year old, dad moved to Carr's Fork, and I decided to run along with the rest of the family. You will see, then, that I had to leave unconditionally. Since those days of my early kidhood, Hazard has been transformed, as if by some magic wand. I believe I have been there only once since. Back in the old days (my mother tells me) people used to pitch horse-shoes on the streets of Hazard, play mumbly-peg, and shoot marbles. Occasionally there was a shin-dig and folks picked the banjo, fiddled and whistled. In those highlands I have heard the best whistlers that ever puckered, curled or twisted a lip. For sixteen years I have been in the mountains but little; but, for those early days up there sweet be the dew of their memory, and pleasant the balm of their recollection. Yes I have been homesick ever since I commenced rambling as our good old ballets call it. If I ever get out of this cock pit of Europe, this land of Slavs and Bolsheviki, I'm coming right back to Kentucky and I'm going to squat there for awhile. 1921

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