sketch by Sherryl Guthrie Miller
"Tuck would take me fishing in either to the 'Big Ditch' or 'Little Ditch'. These ditches were full of fish, perch and catfish. I was a big girl before I ever tasted anything but catfish. Few bones in them and too many kids for the older folk to help watch for bones. He took four or five poles along and he would stick them up in the mud. The he would find a nice log to sit on and have me watch the poles. He would keep an eye on them too, and when he would see one that was getting a bite he would say to me "Go daughter, you got one on that fer pole", and I would pull it in.
Tuck always wore a vest, summer or winter. In one pocket he carried his tabacco (sic) and a pipe. I can see him reach in another pocket and pull out a bit of paper and he would say "Listen, daughter" and he would read me a piece of poetry he had cut out of a newspapers or farm journal. He was a poet at heart and could make it fairly sing. It truly had a swing, rhythm, and it rhymed**--no free verse for him.
"Tuck would take me fishing in either to the 'Big Ditch' or 'Little Ditch'. These ditches were full of fish, perch and catfish. I was a big girl before I ever tasted anything but catfish. Few bones in them and too many kids for the older folk to help watch for bones. He took four or five poles along and he would stick them up in the mud. The he would find a nice log to sit on and have me watch the poles. He would keep an eye on them too, and when he would see one that was getting a bite he would say to me "Go daughter, you got one on that fer pole", and I would pull it in.Tuck always wore a vest, summer or winter. In one pocket he carried his tabacco (sic) and a pipe. I can see him reach in another pocket and pull out a bit of paper and he would say "Listen, daughter" and he would read me a piece of poetry he had cut out of a newspapers or farm journal. He was a poet at heart and could make it fairly sing. It truly had a swing, rhythm, and it rhymed**--no free verse for him.
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