Ornery Place To Live

Not too long ago, a young fellow came into the store. He was asking some questions about Appalachia. I am sure he was a college student. He asked me if there was any wit among the people of our region. Folks, you couldn't hem in the wit our people had with a ten foot pole plus a dozen Mother Hubbard dresses. One I recall very well, as I told this fellow, our people were always accused of being the most persistent Moonshiners of all time. Regardless of that or not, I will say that wit did them a lot of good. I can recall a certain instance that the revenuers had concentrated on one old couple that were surprised to have been engaged in this illicit affair. You know they could tell the different hoof beats of any strange horse or mule that ventured up this creek. On this particular day there were different hoof beats coming up the creek. It really took some fast thinking. Maybe they were guilty, the old lady ran out into the yard, squatted as if she was trying to relieve herself as the revenuer's rode up. She jumped up and said, "it is getting to be an ornery place to live when a woman can't get any privacy at her own home." As I am told, the revenuer's turned their horses and rode off without making any investigation regarding the old man's habits of which he had been accused. 1969