08/24/2018
Her Name was Little Jane
Johnny was about a year old the first time he met Billy and held him as a newborn. Their mothers were first cousins and always best friends. Billy and Johnny were practically raised as brothers. It was after they had started to school, when Johnny was in second grade and Billy was in the first when they met Joe Bob. The three of them were always together after school and on weekends. They had many hours of fun running through the fields and woods, and playing in the creeks around White Pine.
Johnny remembered the summer when they were at the ages of 11 and 12. They had worked many hours mowing yards to buy a pony. When they had saved $75 they caught a ride to the stock yards in Morristown with Pop Samples. Every first Monday of each month was trade day at the jockey lot. Pop Samples had been a regular trader for 40 years. He was going to teach the boys how to horse trade.
There was an air of anticipation among the boys as they rode in the big Chevy one ton truck with the tall cattle racks. It was 5 o’clock in the morning when they turned into the steeply declining driveway of the stockyards. Pop said, “Now, boys let me do to all the talking. Don’t act too anxious when you see the horse you want.”
They all walked around for little while until they saw a beautiful black and white paint. All three of them went up to the owner at one time. “How much for this one?”
“I’ll have to have $100 for that little gal. She’s a good little saddle horse. She’s bred to Gerald Hill’s Tennessee walking horse, Big John. You know he’s a goodern.”
Big John was a good one, that’s for sure. This little gal was a good one too. You could tell that. Old Pop just walked around her, rubbing her shoulders, back and rump. He lifted her feet, looked at her hooves, then turned to the man and said. “Should be around four, or five years old and 14 hands tall. I reckon she’s worth about $75,” said Pop.
“I would eat her before I would take $75 for her old man. That girl can hit a lick. I know you. You’d pay 75 then sell her for 150. If you want her she’ll cost you 100.”
"Bill, you get on her and ride her down the lane there so as I cane see her rack."
Bill did so and she sure was as smooth as the owner said she was. "That shore is a pretty site," thought Pop.
“Boys, do you reckon this is the one you want?”
“She’s the one!” They all agreed.
“Here’s $50 to hold her. We’ll be back directly with the rest,” explained Pop.
“That’ll be good enough for me. I’ll be here until a little after noon. See you when you get back.”
Pop lead the boys away from the man and their horse. “Boys, I’m going to try to help you turn your $25 that you have left into 50. Then you’ll have enough for your horse.” They walked down an alley to where men were trading guns and knives. Pop went to the back of an old green Ford pickup. There, Roscoe Jones, a thin, short, but rugged looking man of about 70, wearing faded overalls was showing another man a knife. “That there is a Case XX. It’s a good knife.”
“How much?” The man asked.
“Five dollars.”
The man took out a five from his pocket on his bibbed overalls and handed it to Roscoe. He then took his knife and walked away.
Roscoe turned around and saw Pop. “Danged if it ain’t old Pop it to them Samples. Boys you don’t care who you run around with do you? Do you know how long I’ve knowed this rascal? Good hundred years I’d say, would you say so Pop?”
“Well at least half that,” replied Pop.
“You boys know how he got his name of Pop?”
The boys all shook their heads.
“It’s cause he’s the best trader around here and that’s why. It started out as Pop it to them. But over the years it has been shortened. I’ll bet you Fellers didn’t know that did you?”
“Hey, I know you boys. I’ve seen you around White Pine. You there. You’re that Brown boy. I’m sorry about your daddy. He was a fine feller. He’ll be sorely missed by many.”
“We’re here to buy a knife,” said Pop, changing the subject. “We want the best knife for the best deal you’ve got.”
“That will be that German Boker Tree Brand there for $15.”
Pop picked up the knife and examined it. “That is a real knife, but not a real deal. We’ll give you five dollars for it”
“I won’t take less than 12,” said Roscoe. “It’s worth a lot more than that. It will probably be a collector’s item someday. It’d cost close to $30 new.”
“Well, it’s not a collector’s item as far as I know and it’s not new. We’ll give you five dollars.”
“Now Pop, I told you I wouldn’t take less than 12. But since it’s you I’ll take ten.”
“We’ll give you five dollars.”
“Give me nine dollars for the knife.”
“We’ll give five.”
“Nine dollars.”
“See you later Roscoe.” Pop turned to leave.
“Wait a minute Pop. I never have been able to sell you anything. I’ll let you have her for eight dollars just to be able say I sold you something.”
“I never have been able to buy anything from you. I’ll give you six, just so’s I can say I did.”
“I can’t take six.” Roscoe stood firm.
“Okay Roscoe, meet me halfway. I’ll give you seven dollars.”
“Dang it Pop. I’ve got seven dollars in that knife. At least let me make $.50 profit. Give me 7.50”
“You sold yourself a knife, Mister. Give him the money Bill. We’ll be seeing you around, Roscoe.”
We walked on down the alley. Joe Bob asked, “Pop, what did we want with that knife?”
“We don’t want the knife, boy. We’re going to trade it for something of more value. You’ll see.”
As they were walking along, examining the knife, a man came by carrying a shotgun. The man said, “Let me see that knife.”
Bill handed him the boker. The man said, “Hey, that’s a German Boker. There were only about a thousand of that particular knife made, I’ll give you $15 for it.”
“I’m sure you would,” answered Pop. “We just bought it. You surely don’t think we would sell it for $15 dollars?”
The boys couldn’t believe their luck. Pop knew he had a man that wanted the knife. He was going to get all he could from him.
“I really would like to have that knife,” said the man. “What will you take for it?”
“We would have to have $40 for it.” Pop said.
“That’s a load more than I would give. But I would give 15 and the shotgun.”
“Make it a 20 and throw in the shotgun. That gun looks pretty worn out.”
“It’s a deal,” the man said. “This completes a set of five. It wouldn’t have been worth so much if I hadn’t had the rest of them.”
The boys couldn't believe their luck. As they walked on down the alley, a man man came walking by with a hound that looked like part Walker and part Red Tick.
The dog went up to Johnny and started jumping on him and licking his face. Johnny looked up at Pop. Pop shook his head as to say, “Be quiet.”
“Hey boy, that old hound seems to like you. I just traded for him. I don’t know if he will tree a c**n or not.”
“Are you a c**n hunter?” asked Pop.
“Not really. I just traded a shotgun and got some boot. I thought maybe I would sell the dog.”
“We’ll trade you this gun for the dog.”
“The way he’s took up with that boy, I reckon I wouldn’t have the heart to say no. It’s a deal”
We walked on down the alley. After we were out of hearing distance of the man we had just traded with, Johnny looked over at Pop. “You know whose dog that is, don’t you Pop?”
“Yeah, that’s Buddy Harbin’s dog, Old Sport. He lost him almost a year ago, huntin’ near Hot Springs, North Carolina.”
“That’s him all right, Pop. I always loved that dog. He must have liked me pretty well. He still remembers me. Buddy will be glad to get him back.”
“I’m sure he will, Johnny. That there is one of the best tree dogs in these parts. He was good to train the pups with too. Buddy will be here since today is Labor Day. I’m sure we’ll run into him after a while. Now, back to business.”
We walked on down the alley. Soon we came upon a man with a truckload of goats. We bought a nanny with a kid for $12. We later sold the nanny for 15 to one man, and sold the kid for five.
“How much money do we have, Billy?” asked Pop.
Billy counted the money. “We have $45.50.”
“Well, I reckon my backer needs to be suckered. You boys could work some in that and I’ll give you the $4.50 you still need.”
“It’s a deal Pop,” said Joe Bob. They all walked back to where the man had their horse.
“Well, well. It looks like you Fellers made it back before noon. Now, I do believe you owe me $50.”
Billy answered, “Yes sir, we do. Here’s the money.”
The man held out his hand and Billy counted out $45.50. Then pop handed him the $4.50. “You boys take good care of that horse. You do right by her and she should do right by you.”
They were filled with excitement as they led their horse toward Pops old Chevy truck. When they got to the truck Pop opened the door and put Old Sport into the cab. “We are going to take you to your home.” Pop went over to inspect the horse again. “You boys sure picked out a real beauty. I couldn’t have done better myself. Go ahead and brush her down. Give her a chance to get to know you. I’ll get us a sandwich over yonder. There is a woman sellin’ those greasy hamburgers. That’s a good burger. I’ll be right back.”
“I can’t believe our luck and being able to buy her. Pop sure knows how to deal,” said Joe Bob. They all three took turns brushing her. After about 15 minutes Pop returned with their hamburgers. With him was Buddy Harbin.
“Look here Fellers who I’ve got with me. I told Buddy about your horse and he wanted to see her.” Pop winked at them.
Buddy started rubbing the horse’s neck. “That is the best looking horse here today, I wouldn’t mind having her for myself”.
“Wouldn’t you rather have a good tree dog?” asked Pop.
“I’ll never find another as good as Old Sport.”
“Hey, Buddy, I don’t know. I think we traded for a good one today. Johnny, go bring that hound out here for Buddy to look at. He just might like to try him out.”
Johnny walked to the front of the truck and got Sport out of the cab. Sport started yapping and jumping all over Buddy. Buddy couldn’t believe that he was actually looking at his long-lost dog. He got down on his knees and took Sport into his arms. “Oh boy, if you only knew all the hours that I have spent looking for you. Pop, what do I owe you and the boys for this?”
“Buddy, you don’t owe us anything. We knew how much you care for the hound. So when we saw him and recognized him, we traded an old shotgun that we didn’t have anything in it.”
“I sure appreciate you Fellers. Hey, I’ve got an idea. Johnny, hold Sport for a minute. I’ll be right back.”
Buddy returned in about 10 minutes carrying a saddle, a bridle and a blanket. “Here Boys, these are for you. I want to show my appreciation. A good horse like this one deserves a good saddle. I want you to enjoy.”
And enjoy her they did. They rode her and cared for her for many years.
Her name was Little Jane.
