At the time we lived at Joshua, we went places in a buggy. It usually set by the side of the yard near the house. One day Wilma and I were already dressed for church and were playing around the buggy. I decided to pick up the shaves and pull it, and Wilma would push. Well, something happened. Wilma evidently didn't push when I pulled and my feet slipped out from under me and down I went, splitting my chin open. I still have the scar from that. As I say, we were ready for church, so Mama tied a white rag around my chin and away we went. That may have been the night Grandma woke me up. I usually lay down on the bench and went to sleep during church. Grandma was sitting behind us, and she was one of those Baptists that felt their religion. She woke me up when she started shouting. A pity there are not more now that feel their religion a little more.

Walking to School Moving to Plymouth