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We'd go in the woods and get our sage, dry it and after it was dry enough you'd take it in your hands and rub it until it was as fine as powder. They would always buy a new tub, wash and scald it good to mix the sausage in, put in black pepper, red pepper, salt and sage and mix thoroughly and hot biscuits, sausage and Blue Ribbon cane syrup so thick you'd have to cut it with a knife almost, was something to make you smack your lips over for breakfast.
Now we've come to the hogshead cheese. Then men would have the heads, feet and ears scraped and scrubbed so clean until they'd be as white as snow. They'd cut them up and put in the washpot and boil until tender. Also put a good bit of lean meat in with the heads and when that was all done we women would get all the bones out and cut the meat into tiny pieces. Mrs Hover never would let her hogsheads be ground. It took three women till three o'clock in the morning by the time we finished. When we got it all cut then we'd put it in the sausage tub, put salt, pepper and a little red pepper and vinegar and mix well. Taste to see if it's seasoned right, put in bowls and keep patting it down so it will be solid by morning so it can be sliced. Keep in a cool place. Now don't say you wouldn't like it until you get a big slice with doolie yam (sweet potato). So now comes the pots, pans, tubs and all the other utensils that was used. So I don't suppose it would take much guessing for you to know what would be done to all of those. Would you? Just make a guess. Oh, yes; I forgot the best part of the seasonings. Quite a large bunch of green onions cut in tiny pieces. Now we have all the meat taken care of. I'll tell you another lie I told my daddy.
I had the same old girlfriend Becky, of whom I've spoke of before, spending a while with me. So I asked her what I could tell my daddy to get him to let us go up to a very dear friends house after supper. She said simply be truthful with him and tell him you want to go hear the phonograph because at that time no one else had one and I thought that was something. That was the kind with the big horn. Mr. Miller was always inventing things. Also composing songs. Under the Weeping Willow Tree was one.
One Sunday night Becky and I went to church at Gainesville and after services when we started home we saw Jack Whitney and his oldest sister walking so I stopped
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