I have told of Mr. Frank Pierce’s mules in other essays.  We enjoyed Mr. Frank and his mules.  But eventually Mr. Frank got a tractor, and that may have made even better stories.  We were use to hearing him give directions to the mules.  “Gee”—go right, or “haw”—go left, or “whoa”—stop.  He did that for years.  I don’t remember what happened to Dan, but think maybe Queen died.

Then, in a ripe old age, Mr. Frank got a tractor.  It was a cub—a very small tractor.  It was equipped with rear end cultivators.  One day, he was plowing young cotton in the patch in front of Uncle Earl’s house beyond the Oak Tree.  An interesting event occurred. We couldn’t help but notice that, after turning around at the end of the rows, and heading back on another row toward his house, the tractor began to stall.  It was running, all right, but just couldn’t move forward.  First one wheel would spin and then the other.  Strange.  But on closer inspection, we noticed a “V” shaped disturbance of the soil behind him, with the point of the “V” at the back of his tractor!  He had let the plow down across the fence, and pulled a strand of barbed wire, mostly underground, pulling staples out of fence post, and destroying about a quarter acre of cotton!

But even more interesting was the way old habits hang on.  Driving the tractor.  “Gee”  “Haw”, but the tractor didn’t turn.  And then at the end of the row, “Whoa,” and into the fence the tractor went!

As I think back on those stories from my own twilight perspective, they are not nearly as funny now as we thought they were back then.  One does not get away from one’s “raisin,” as the saying goes.  In my retirement, I have a little garden.  And a little tractor.  And the garden has a fine eight-foot deer fence around it.  I haven’t torn it down yet, but……  I think I become more of Mr. Frank everyday!