Poems and Short Stories

By Rebecca L. Boggs

Rebecca Boggs lived in the hills of West Virginia her entire life and during that time she was aware and heard many stories, and tales, and experienced many events as a school teacher and as a fourth-class postmaster and small general store owner and operator. In her book, Poems and Short Stories, she preserves some of those tales and events.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Nov 4, 2021
• ISBN: 9781664198128

Rebecca L. Boggs

Rebecca L. Boggs was the second eldest of thirteen children born and raised in West Virginia. Her father was an Advent Christian Minister who suffered from frequent illness. In her book West Virginia Oracle, Mrs. Boggs relays some of the events during the years growing up in the 1900’s. The family struggled against poverty and moved several times. She married, raised five children, was a schoolteacher, postmaster, and owned and operated a general store. She is the author of the following books: The Bleeding Hills of West Virginia and Poems and Short Stories. Mrs. Boggs has since passed away.

Book preview

PART I

POEMS

AND

PERSONAL EXPERIENCES

(Written in First Person)

1. Good Aim, Bad Sight

2. Alan’s Shirttail

3. Mini Skirt (poem)

4. My First Job in the City

5. Moon Flight (poem)

6. Let’s Talk About the U.S. Post office

7. The Silver Bridge Disaster (Poem)

GOOD AIM, BAD SIGHT

My pa and me went out to hunt

Along with our dog Racer.

Ole Racer treed a big gray squirrel

In sight of the town of Spencer.

Round and round Ole Racer took

Yappin up a hickory bush.

I cocked my gun without a sight

And shot a farmer’s cow in flight.

My! Oh! My! Gee Wheeze!

My son, see what ye went and did!

Whose cow is this? Why did you aim

At a beef and then not miss?

I looked behind just to see

The farmer and the law

Come up to me.

What ye got there?

The law man yelled.

I had no time to flee.

"You must be blind or just

Can’t see! You must confess

This squirrel is in a mess.

It has an oversized carcass."

The law was grinning.

My pa was whining.

Then off to Spencer’s jail

Pa and me were took

And listed in old squire’s notebook.

Rebecca L. Boggs

ALAN’S SHIRTTAIL

It was late summer in 1912 and I was twelve years old. My mother sent me to the store with a basket of eggs to be exchanged for sugar. It was berry picking time and we always put up (canned) a lot of jam and jelly and enjoyed fresh berry pie. It was hot and as I walked the dry dusty dirt road, which was a mile and a half from our house to the store, I had to stop for a rest and wipe the sweat from my face. I was wearing my pink calico Mother Hubbard dress, my bare feet were dusty and my naturally curly hair was uncontrolled even though it was tied in back with a wide pink ribbon. I had brought a small container of black berries to eat on the way and when I stopped to rest, I ate a few staining my teeth. I had set the egg basket on the ground beside the road when I heard a horse coming behind me.

It was old Mr. York riding his dapple gray stallion which was lathered from neck to tail. The old man rode stooped over with his straw hat pulled over his forehead. His spectacles were at the tip of his Roman nose and his blue shirt unbuttoned three buttons below his neck. He was holding the reins tightly and kept repeating. Easy, Felix. Easy old boy. He was looking all around calling, Alan! Alan! Where are you, my son? He stopped his horse next to me saying, Whoa! Whoa! Felix! He looked down at me from his seat with a questioning eye. I believe I know you, Sis. You’re Alan’s girlfriend. Have you seen Alan?

I looked up at Mr. York with dismay. What did you say, Mr. York?

You heard me, Becky. Tell me the truth. Have you seen Alan today?

Yes, I saw Alan this morning when he passed our house riding his western pony. He had a large basket in front of his saddle. I guess he had eggs in the basket, I told him.

I was working in the hayfield when Alan’s momma called me to go find Alan. He was supposed to exchange eggs for sugar at the store this morning. Then Mr. York looked at my bare feet and dress and my stained teeth and said, Have you been picking berries?

No, sir, I said. I’m on my way to the store to exchange eggs for sugar, too. I started walking again and so did Mr. York on his horse. He shouted back at me asking if I had seen any other boys besides Alan but I told him no. It wasn’t long afterward that we came to the small village of Sageville where the store was located. There was only a school, a post office in the store and about a dozen houses in that small community. A bubbling creek ran behind the store and sometimes we kids liked to go wading and even take a dip where the water was deep.

Kate, the storekeeper came out on the store porch to greet us and Mr. York called to her from his seat in the saddle. Have you seen any boys running loose around here? he asked.

Oh, yes, Mr. York. There were about half a dozen boys that passed by here a few minutes ago. They crossed the bridge and disappeared. They are probably down at the swimming hole, Kate told us.

That good-for-nothing son of mine was supposed to exchange eggs for sugar this morning and he never went back home. I’ll teach him to go to the store and stay away all day. Mr. York looked very angry. Were there any girls with them? he asked.

No, Mr. York, I didn’t see any girls. But Alan did come to the store and his sugar is in the basket there on the edge of the porch, Kate said pointing to the basket.

I don’t want sugar! I want that worthless son of mine, he declared. Are you sure there weren’t any girls down there with those naked boys? He sounded accusing and suspicious.

Well, I really don’t know. I’ve been busy in the store but my mother told me that there are three or four girls that usually hang around the creek and pretend to fish. I don’t think they catch anything. I haven’t seen them carrying any, Kate replied.

Girls, before I go I want to ask you two girls something. If I find Alan naked and swimming with those girls, I intend to cut a switch and whip that boy until he won’t know his name is Alan York. Then I’ll march him through town where everybody can see him with his shirttail out. What do you think of that? Mr. York asked.

I looked at Kate and Kate looked at me. I had a crush on Alan because he was my age, handsome with dark wavy hair and he had a jovial disposition and Kate knew I liked Alan. She said, Just bring Alan up here with his shirttail out and that should be enough to teach him a lesson. No need for a whipping, Mr. York.

Now, listen girls. Go tell everyone you see to come outside and watch because Alan York is going to be walking around town with his shirttail out. That is if he is able to walk after I get through with him. With that. Mr. York turned his horse around and started toward the creek.

I picked up my egg basket and Kate and I went inside the store. Kate’s mother was waiting on customers. I asked Kate if she thought Mr. York would whip Alan and make him walk through town with his shirttail out. We started laughing at the thought of Alan with his shirttail out. After the customers had left, Kate’s mother asked, What did Mr. York want?

He was looking for Alan, I told her, giving Kate’s mother my basket of eggs. Kate was on her way to the back of the store where the post office was located to wait on patrons who were standing at the window to get their mail. He said Alan left home this morning to exchange eggs for sugar and never went back home. Mrs. York is canning berries and needed the sugar. She sent Mr. York to get him, I reported.

Tell them what Mr. York said he was going to do when he found Alan, Kate called to me from the office window. Everyone turned around and looked at me when she said that.

I hesitated because I didn’t want to be a tattletale on Alan. Well, he said he would whip him and make him walk through town with his shirttail out, I told them a bit embarrassed for Alan.

Well, if he were my boy, I’d cut the very pants off him with a good hickory stick, Kate’s mother remarked as she took the eggs out of the basket and went to get the sugar.

One of the postal patrons who had been listening said, If I know Mr. York, he will never whip his son. He was just joshing you girls.

He may not whip him but he said if he caught him swimming naked with some girls he was going to march him through town with his shirttail out, Kate reported.

Did he say that, Kate? her mother asked. She did not want any spectacle outside her store and post office to keep customers and patrons away. Besides, that was indecent for a young man to go around with his shirttail out.

That is what Old Man York said, Momma. He said Alan would walk right up here from the creek with his shirttail hanging out, Kate told her mother.

That old cougar just wants to disgrace me and my family by making that boy walk up here in front of my business with his shirttail out. He can’t get away with that, she declared. Kate’s mother was very sensitive to what was proper and what was not. Men and boys did NOT walk around with their shirttail showing. Shirttails must always be tucked into their trousers. To do so would be embarrassing and detrimental to her business. It was unacceptable. Kate’s mother continued. About a month ago a woman came here right at my store riding a man’s saddle, just like a man. She was wearing a man’s shirt, pants, hat, boots and even a black tie. She said to me. ‘Howdy, Mam. Would you happen to know where Preacher Gasper lives? I am his cousin.’ I told her she was a disgrace to all women and if Preacher Gasper was her cousin, I would be the first to run him out of town. Gasper lives the next house up the road, I told her. But you know what? I feel just that way. A woman straddling her legs over a horse is disgraceful. If my girl were caught doing that, I would run her off! Kate’s mother was very upset by the very thought.

Whoopee! Whoopee! The cry could be heard in the distance. The patrons and newly arriving customers along with Kate and her mother and me went outside to the porch to see what was happening. We saw ten or twelve teenage boys running up the dusty road laughing and yelling, Whoopee! Whoopee! Hey, Old Man! Be easy on Alan! Look, Girls, Alan has his shirttail out!" Behind the boys came Mr. York on his stallion and Alan on his pony. They stopped in front of the store.

Mr. York yelled at his son, Alan, get off that pony and take your punishment, you little rascal! I’ll teach you to disobey your mother! Alan slowly and shamefully dismounted and stood facing the crowd of people. Then he started running around in circles showing his shirttail outside his trousers.

The people watching were silent feeling shame for the young man forced to embarrass himself by exposing his shirttail. Then Kate’s mother put an end to it when she yelled at Mr. York saying, You old hypocrite! Get off my premises this minute! How dare you create a scene here in front of my store! I have a mind to swear out a warrant for you and your son for indecent exposure!

Alan got back on his pony and Mr. York turned his horse around and they started back up the road without the sugar Alan had come for. The boys who had been whooping and hollering each went their own way and the rest of us returned to our business at hand. I put the sugar in my basket and was on my way back home feeling sorry for Alan but excited to tell my family all that had happened at the store today.

THE MINI-SKIRT

Boys, there goes my babe in her mini-skirt.

Wait! Dam it! Is it my Sunday shirt?

I can kiss her; I can hug her;

I can do much as I please,

But, Boys, I can’t get my babe’s

Mini-skirt below her knees.

Rebecca L. Boggs

MY FIRST JOB IN THE CITY

The year was 1916. The Christmas Holidays were over. There were few gifts exchanged at our house that Christmas because we were a family of seven children and our father was recuperating from blood poison and gangrene caused from an old infection in his leg. Death hovered over his frail body for months. Surprisingly to his doctors, friends and family, God spared his life. He was a minister without an income to support his family and our wants were many that year in the hills of West Virginia.

My mother was a young woman of only thirty-five years and with the children’s help she had prepared many fruits and vegetables for the long cold winter. In our garden were large mounds which contained potatoes and apples and a long row of cabbage roots standing above the frozen ground with their large solid heads hidden in the deep furrow. A supply of canned fruits and vegetables was stored away in the cellar and there was plenty of pork hanging in the shed. We were blessed with good wholesome milk and butter supplied by our one Jersey cow. What our family needed most was money to purchase clothes and other items of life’s necessities.

During the winter season the Appalachian region was a frozen area. Streams, rivers and land were all one big frozen mass. The pond was covered with thick ice and snow and it was difficult to tell where the land ended and the pond began. The wind blew from the North bringing fine snow and the temperature hovered around zero most of the time.

On this January day my oldest brother, Howard, came into the living room with his face shiny red from the cold and icicles and fine frost on his cap. He had brought the mail in from the mailbox. He reached into his bibbed overalls and brought out a letter. Mamma, you have a letter from Aunt Lizzie in Wheeling. We children all gathered around our mother to hear her read the letter. Mamma opened the letter as quickly as she could and in her excitement, she dropped something out of the envelope. One of the children picked up the fallen object and discovered that it was two ten dollar bills. My mother was so overcome with emotion that big tears rolled down her cheeks. We children stood in awe because it was not often that we saw our mother cry. Almost immediately she straightened her back and stood tall, her dark hair rolled high above her head and then she gave a long sigh. After reading the letter, she said to me, Becky, your Aunt Lizzie sent this money to pay for your train ride to her house in Wheeling. Your Uncle is the chief of police and he says you can find work there in most any store. But the factories pay better, so he will help you find a job in one