EXPERIENCES OF A TRAPPER AND HUNTER 
FROM YOUTH TO OLD AGE 
By T. ALEXANDER 
CHAPTER IV. 
After my father had laid down his law and told me that I did 
not know the worth of a dollar and would have to work another year, 
simply because I had blown $127.00, the price of only two bales of 
cotton, I was stung to the heart, but made no reply to my father, 
simply turned from him and went on with my work. This all hap¬ 
pened a short time before Christmas, and right then, while he was 
talking, I made up my mind that the first of the year I would leave 
for Arkansas and find for myself a career in hunting and trapping, 
as I had so long hoped to do. 
About this time we were having good times at the good old- 
fashioned dances, where there was real harmonious music and the 
Virginia reel was danced to perfection. I had purchased a fiddle and 
had learned to scratch out many of the old familiar tunes, but for¬ 
tunately, or would it be unfortunately, I had six sisters who were all 
at that time unmarried girls and when I was practicing on my fiddle 
they would never fail to make fun of me. They would say I looked 
like old Babe Thornton or Charley Ricks, or Ben Jordan, all of whom 
were fiddlers and very familiar with John Barleycorn. They would 
often say, “You will never be worth a cent if you don’t get rid of 
your fiddle.” This, of course, would vex and sting me, so I decided 
to sell my fiddle, which I was not overly stuck on anyway. 
Christmas eve John Thornton and Henry Williams rode up to 
our house and told me they were making up a dance at Babe Thorn¬ 
ton’s for that night and to come and be sure to bring all my sisters. 
I agreed to do so and went in to tell my sisters. The information 
brought a sparkle to their eyes and a hurrah for old Babe for giving 
us a dance. They began to fly around, get out their finery and dis¬ 
cuss what they would wear. They ordered me to get their horses 
from the pasture, feed, curry and saddle them, which, of course, I 
had to do, and I also saddled my mule. 
About 4:00 P. M. up rode about 20 boys and girls on their way 
to Babe Thornton’s party, which was a treat old Babe generally gave 
the young people every Christmas. My sisters and I fell in line Avith 
the rest of the bunch and we were all off. like a keen bunch of hounds. 
Some of the boys suggested to me, on the quiet, that we switch 
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