Horse Tradin' (6 page)

The old man said: “You won't have any trouble selling these mules, young man. Are you going to take in trade, or are you going to have to sell for cash?”

I said: “Why, Colonel Bob, I didn't know you could sell mules straight out for cash. I'll trade for whatever they have to offer. Of course I'll want to draw enough boot in between to assure that I can sell what I take in at a profit.”

“Oh,” he said, “I understand that, Ben. These are the kind of mules my customers will appreciate, and I feel suah you will get them sold to an advantage.”

I thought it would be a nice time to put the old gentleman on notice, so I said: “Colonel Bob, I would like to trade for some nice kind of saddle mares to take back West—some nice fox trotting, gaited mares, and even a driving horse or two. Of course, I'll trade for the old mules and fat mules and things that farmers want to trade off. And,” I said, “I just wonder what the policy of the bank would be—I haven't discussed it with Tom—if I want to take some notes and mortgages on these mules. Would the bank consider discounting and buying the paper?”

“That's what ouah bank enjoys, Ben. We would be pleased to buy the paper you take on any of our customers around heah. There might be a few that are not too good, but you can discuss it with Tom. I think you can reach an agreement with him.”

By this time Baby Belle had been all up and down the barn and was back in the car waiting for Colonel Bob and
me. We started out and Colonel Bob said: “Now if you care to, we'll go by the bank and discuss this with my son Tom.”

I said: “Colonel Bob, needn't to bother. I haven't got any paper yet. I may not even take in any.”

“Well, if you do, I think it can be arranged so we can take care of it at Tom's bank.” The old man never laid any claim to the bank's being his. He always mentioned it as “Tom's bank.”

The old man was wise, and when we got back to his house and he had thanked me for coming after him and bragged on my mules he said: “Ben, don't let Baby Belle go back to the bahn with you. I think her mother wants her in heah aftah while for something.” He winked and walked off.

Baby Belle sat long enough for me to ask her for a date that night. She seemed delighted and said there was a party out at somebody's house—that I didn't know and, of course, didn't care—and she would like for me to escort her to that party. I thought nothing could be nicer than going to a Southern party with a Southern belle, and I told her so.

Anyhow, that set things off good for the day, and I started back to the barn to see about my mules. By dinner I had sold two spans of mules—one for cash, and I took a pair of big fat old mules in on trade for the other. I just charged the man what my mules cost for boot and cleared his team, which was sort of the custom with horse and mule dealers in those days. Anyhow, I had gotten off to a good start. I had sold four mules the first half-day I had them ready to show.

That night there was a man came to the hotel to see
me about buying four more. I was trying to get away from him because I had a date with Baby Belle, but he didn't seem to be interested in leaving. He wanted me to tell him about the wonders of Texas, build up my mules, and so forth. I told him it seemed to me it would be to his advantage for me to describe the mules and tell him about them in the daylight when he could be looking at them—and long about now I had some other things to tend to.

He kind of got the hint, and I got up and got loose from him and went on out to Colonel Bob's home. I went in and waited around for Baby Belle to get dressed—visited with Mamma Belle and Colonel Bob and told them about my mule trades for the day. He mentioned several people that ought to be interested in some mules—told me which direction from town they lived, and that kind of stuff. I thanked him and told him I would be by in the morning and take him to see the mules I had traded for.

“Nevah mind, Ben. Wait a few days until you have moah in.”

But I repeated that I would like to trade for some saddle mares to take back to Texas.

About this time Baby Belle showed up and we went off to the party. She was getting to be a delightful habit with me, and I enjoyed her a lot. She was fun and never complained or grumbled about anything. If we went somewhere to eat, it was always better than she had expected. And if we met somebody, they were always nice. And she just didn't complain about anything or make fun of anybody or criticize anybody's clothes or say anything unkind. That was different from a lot of the snooty little fillies I had known, and I really began to appreciate Baby Belle.

By the time I had been in town ten days, I had sold more than half of my mules and traded for a few. I had traded for two nice saddle horses, a chestnut and a bay. In the meantime I had discovered that Baby Belle had a saddle horse, and we had been riding horseback in the late afternoons. Charlotte and some of the other young people in the town had saddle horses, and we had all been out on some moonlight picnics ahorseback. We'd had parties and romped and played and had fun just about ever since I got there. Besides that, I was doing a thriving business selling my mules.

Nobody complained too much about the prices on them. Some farmers did want to trade in old, fat mules and get rid of them at too high a price—but I had bought my mules the year before and summered them and I owned them worth the money. They were sure doing me a lot of good. About this time I had gathered a little paper on some of them—took in some mules on trade and sold some on a credit with me holding the mortgage. I mentioned this one day to Tom in the drugstore.

“Why come on in the bank, Mistah Green. We'll see what we can do.” So we walked on over and he said: “Now, we'll discount this paper about ten dollars a mule and buy it from you.”

He looked for me to fight him a little over that, and I didn't want to disappoint him. I said: “About five dollars a mule?”

“Well,” he said, “make it seven and a half.”

“Make it six.” I didn't want him to think I was too easy.

He said: “Well, that will be fine. Discount it six dollars a head a mule, and since you are writing these mortgages
for eight per cent interest, it will be all right. The bank will get the interest and the six dollars a head. Now,” he said, “I suppose you want to send this money to some bank in Texas and apply it on the mules?”

“Apply it nothing,” I said. “That money's mine. If I sell a mule, I deposit it if I want to—and I can deposit it in your bank.”

He brightened up considerably. He thought I had borrowed money to buy those mules. Well, I have borrowed money to buy thousands of mules, but it so happened that I owned these two carloads. And when I went for a coke the next day, Mamma Belle was a lot nicer.

That weekend there was fall fair and Old Settlers reunion coming up. They were going to have it down on the creek, close to town in a big grove of pecan trees, and the town was busy getting ready. They were going to have a big program—speakin's, dinner on the grounds, games, something for everybody—come one, come all. They were going to have some horseback riding, horse showing, and some harness racing. I had been hearing about this for several days.

About two days before the reunion, Baby Belle asked me if I would enter a horse in the horse show. I had traded for some nice saddle mares and had been riding one of them around with the rest of the young set, so I told her I would enter the five-gaited class. That morning I went by horseback to get Baby Belle. She rode a beautiful chesnut mare—stocking-legged, flax mane and tail—that was a real jewel and a real saddle mare. Baby Belle looked good on her, and they moved off together like they should. We spent all day at the Old Settlers reunion.

Visitors had come from far and near, but I was kinda
different. I had on boots and a big hat, and of course I was by that time telling them a lot about the Lone Star state. It seemed like everybody was getting a big kick out of my conversation. They had a big feed on the grounds, and I bragged on their cooking. I bragged on their cake and their pies and their chicken. Everything they shoved at me, I would try a batch of it—and directly here would come another nice old Southern lady and say: “Mistah Green, I would just like for you to taste a bite of this …” And I just kept a-tasting, and I bragged on all of it. I guess I ate more cooking from strictly secret Southern recipes at that Old Settlers reunion than you ever heard of at any other gathering in the world.

The political speakings were held in the morning and didn't anybody pay much mind to them. They had a band that played all day, and people sat around on the ground and listened to the music. They had different kinds of contests and games, but the big feature of the day was the afternoon harness racing. There was a half-mile track, and they had some fast trotting horses and some fast pacing horses. Most of them were local horses with local people driving them, so everybody was interested in every race.

We sat on our horses beside the track—a bunch of us young people—and watched the drivers score their horses, turn them around to their little two-wheeled driving sulkies, and bring them up to the starting line. When all of them were in place, the judge would fire his little gun and the race would be on. Of course if the horses weren't lined up just right, the judge would call them back to rescore; then the horses would get hot and lathering and excited, and the drivers' tempers would flare.

The fifth race was for drivers over seventy years old. Colonel Bob was close to eighty, but when the six horses came up to score this race, there was Colonel Bob driving the Rebel Commander. The horse never fretted nor frothed nor got mad; he scored and came back with the most perfect manners.

“Mamma and I are scared stiff,” said Baby Belle. “We ah so afraid the Rebel Commandah is going to hurt Daddy Bob yet.”

I said: “Well, I don't see how. That horse seems perfectly mannered.”

“He has been a race hoss,” she said. “Daddy Bob bought him off the track, mainly to have him for this Old Settlers reunion and to win this race.”

They had to rescore several times, but directly the judge shot the pistol and the race was on. When they passed the grandstand, Colonel Bob was neck and neck with another horse. The Rebel Commander was moving out smooth and easy and had plenty left—he hadn't felt any strain and he wasn't hurting himself in the least. On the back stretch, Rebel Commander moved out about two lengths in front of the rest of the field. Colonel Bob was sitting very erect and holding his reins high. He was making a beautiful drive as they made the turn to come in by the grandstand. As I said, this was a half-mile track, so they had to make two circles. Colonel Bob pushed Rebel Commander out a little bit more—then he just took a tight hold on him and held him there. He made this first half-mile just in front of the other horses in the field. They came by the grandstand and started around again; then as he came into the home stretch the last time, Colonel Bob shook the bits a little and leaned forward and
spoke to the Rebel Commander. You couldn't hear what he said, but that black horse must have believed it. He moved out and won the race by ten lengths—and the crowd went wild.

Colonel Bob scored Rebel Commander and brought him back by the judges' stand—he was in perfect manner—stopped, and stood still. The judges came out and presented Colonel Bob with a big trophy, then old William dashed up to lead Rebel Commander off the track by the side gate. They headed back home.

Baby Belle was excited beyond expression. It seemed everybody was delighted that Colonel Bob had won the race—except, I guess, the drivers of the other five horses. All in all, it was a good day. We went back to Colonel Bob's home and had a light supper and talked about the events of the day, and I left and put my horse in the barn at a reasonable hour.

The next week I had more horse and mule business than you could shake a stick at. Every trade I made was a good one, and I made money. By the end of the third week, I had sold out of all the fresh mules I brought from Texas. I didn't have quite a carload of saddle mares and trade mules to take back to Texas with me.

As things developed, it was time for Baby Belle to go to Gulfport to the girls' finishing school—whatever that was. So far as I was concerned, she was already finished; but it seemed that Mamma Belle thought she needed to go to this girls' school. I told Mamma Belle that so far as I could see, the only reason Baby Belle needed to go to that school was so that unfinished girls would know what they ought to look like and how they ought to act. Of
course that made a big hit, and I told it in the drugstore where everybody laughed.

Baby Belle said: “Ben, you embarrass me!”

On Sunday night before I was going to ship out, Colonel Bob and Mamma Belle and Baby Belle had me down to the house for a family dinner. There was a beautiful table set and a lot of food. It was a little cool, and afterwards we sat around the fireplace in the spacious, high-ceilinged living room instead of out on the gallery. Hanging over the mantel was a portrait of Baby Belle's grandmother that quickly told you this was a family of gracious and beautiful women. It explained, too, why Colonel Bob was so fond of his granddaughter—she was the very likeness of her grandmother for whom Colonel Bob had built this house. Anything fine that had been hard to obtain but could be brought from afar—it was in this old Southern home.

We reminisced and talked and visited, and I told them how much I had enjoyed my stay in Mississippi. Before this time I had settled with Colonel Bob for his barn. I had asked Tom what he thought the Colonel expected. He said $25 would be enough; so I had given the old man $100—which was cheap aplenty for all the help he had been to me. He was delighted. Tom's bank was going to make some money, too, off the paper that I had sold them. All in all, it seemed that my visit there had been pleasing to everybody concerned. I had made more money in that month than I had made in other ways all year.