I can recall with great pleasure all the fun we all had growing up on the mill hill. Playing football, baseball, dodge ball, marbles and even hop scotch if no other boys were around. Lord knows don't let the fellows see you doing that or it would be as lethal as being caught jumping rope. Most of all, the boys enjoyed playing cowboys.

     Back then Sears and Roebuck made toy guns that you could easily rob a bank with - they looked so real and authentic. My favorites where the big Colt 45s with the genuine leather holsters. They even had a mustang stallion engraved on 'em. They were also very durable - all steel, no measly plastic in those days. These were heavy, as James Paul can verify since I accidentally knocked him out with 'em one day while we were playing.

     It was the first day after returning from Christmas vacation. In those days everybody brought their guns to school after Christmas. My, how the times have changed. If a kid did that today, his parents would have to move to another school - that is after they bailed 'em out of jail. Now to get back on subject. James and I were playing cowboys and I was trying to catch him and bring him in (like Gene and Roy used to do). Anyway, I was over by those two huge oak trees that stood in front of the Pee Dee school. I had both guns out and ready when I heard something sneaking up from behind. I quickly spun around as fast as I could and both steel barrels recoiled off James head, knocking him unconscious. He just lay there like he was dead. Somebody saw it and ran and told Miss Green, our 2nd grade teacher. And to show you how things have changed, after coming to we just resumed playing; no doctor, no first aid, nothing.

     We always played cowboys around the mill hill after school and especially on that wonderful day that we all cherished, "Saturday". We all had a horse to ride, thanks to the many china berry trees that grew throughout the Pee Dee community. It was common to see a whole gang riding up and down Bunker St with our cowboy hats,guns and a long stick between our legs churning up a cloud of dust. An old shoestring worked perfect as reins to hold these steeds in line. I went an extra effort with my stick horse, trimming the red bark in such a way as to make him look like a pinto. Yeah, I was right proud of "Old Paint ", if I do say so myself.

     Unfortunately, Old Paint ended up getting me into a bit of trouble one day. It was Saturday morning and my partner Bobby and I - he lived two houses down - were hot on the trail of some outlaws,"The Dalton Gang". You have to understand that Bobby was one of those kids that was a tad eccentric, today you would say he was "a dreamer". When he was playing, he really lived it. He was there literally in his mind, in the Old West. If we went in the house for a drink of water, he would automatically chime in with Oh! Susanna, just like the pianos in the saloons of the western movies. If he was riding fast in pursuit of outlaws, he made a dashing type sound just like the westerns do. It's kind of hard to describe,you would have had to been there to get the full affect.

     Well to continue, one day Bobby just up and suggests that we switch horses. Well, not in this lifetime was I gonna give up Old Paint for anybody, not even my pardner, especially after all the work I had in him. Then, low and behold,while my back is turned, I hear some dashing music coming from behind me. I turn around only to see Bobby fleeing as fast as he can down Bunker St and he's riding Old Paint! Never figured Bobby to be a horse thief but there he was.

     Now maybe I got caught up in the moment but I found myself chasing him and what made it so goofy is I was riding his plain ole nag. Well Bobby got to his house and went straight inside. He was safe for now but he was in a box canyon and I wasn't leavin' without my horse. I could see him looking out the window with that secure, arrogant look that someone has when they think they got you. Bobby's Mom was a good Christian woman and after seeing me out in the yard, inquired to her son what all this was about. Soon after Bobby came out carrying my horse. Now I was feeling good with a smug expression on my face!

     This didn't last very long because as soon as Bobby got outside out of sight of his mom I saw him bend my horse over his knee. "Don't do it Bobby! " "CRACK", he broke Ole Paint's back! Well, that did it. I ran and jumped over the banister before he could run back inside. Bobby was a head taller than me, but I was stocky so it was evened out. We fought all over his yard, ending up out by the road. Cars stopped along the street to watch the action and it was fairly even until I heard one of the men comment, "That little one's Ed Kelly's boy". Well, that comment sealed poor Bobby's fate. I wasn't about to loose this fight after that, and so I ralleyed and soon Bobby was running to the house crying. But Bobby as it turned out got the last laugh.

     I went over with chest puffed out and retrieved my hat that had fallen off during the fight, and his mom and grandmother came out and started yelling at me. I didn't say a word, just reached down and picked up my hat and put it on my head. I immediately received a rude awakening when the yellow liquid started pouring down my face. As it turned out Myra, Bobby's little sister, was being potty trained. When she saw my cowboy hat turned upside down it looked too much like her pee pot and she did her thing in my hat! Everybody was laughing, even the men watching the fight could not contain themselves. You can't imagine how devastating it was to have that many people laughing at you, some with heads turned backwards.