There was once an old spinster named Ida Creason who lived in Wolf Bayou Holler. Her name was actually pronounced I-Dee, not Ida as the spelling suggests. Now Ida was, in comparison to others of this time and place, what you might call rich. She had inherited a great deal of land from her parents and lived in a big beautiful house that sat up on a little hill and was surrounded by lush creek bottom land that was planted each spring in a new crop of cotton.
Ida was not a very sociable neighbor and never looked favorably on those who might come to call and discouraged those who did so from returning. It was also in her nature to pinch a penny more than once before spending it, although somehow she managed to have the finest of clothes to wear, the only car in the county that ran, and the only house that was actually painted with store bought paint. Neighbors all knew she didn't actually earn the money for the fine things she possessed, but said it was a "dead man's work" that she lived on and often remarked at the difference in the farm since the old man had died. You might say that Ida had made herself to be the envy of many and the friend of none.
Every spring Ida would hire someone to help till the ground and plant row after row of cotton. When she was satisfied with the planting, she paid them (after pinching it twice) and sent them on their way. Ida, being the stingy miser that she was, always planted more than she could take care of herself and was not willing to pay anyone to help her. When the days grew long and hot she would sit on the porch, overwhelmed by the task at hand, and watch the cotton and the weeds grow side by side. As folks noticed the fields in a state of disrepair, many stopped to inquire if they might be of assistance, hoping to gain a few pennies for their labors. Ida always refused their offer, stating that she would get to it "tomorrow". Folks believed she actually intended to hoe the cotton but by the time the cotton was of the age to harvest and the tomorrows of opportunity had passed, the cotton was smothered by the weeds and only a few bales could be gathered.
Now a group of little boys lived just down the trail from Ida and passed by the house everyday on their way to school. Ida was her own "no trespassing" sign and to make certain the children did not step one foot onto her land, she posted herself up at the corner boundary and eyed the little ones as they picked their way along the path in single file. She scolded the little school goers the length of the property and even threw rocks at them if they got too close to the lines. When safely out of reach of Ida's rocks, the boys called out at the top of their lungs, "I- DEE SOUIE" as if to call a hog and some of them even made "Oinking" noises and grunting sounds to further make their point. This continued with occasional variations in the process until the spinster happened to mention it to the schoolmaster who was her only brother. Of course, the schoolmaster believed whatever version his sister presented to him and called the boys out after school for a thrashing. All the little boys except one ran off, laughing all the way. Only one little boy stood still and received the whipping of his life. Schoolmaster Creason used the backside of a bullwhip and thrashed the little boy's behind until he was almost too sore to make it home. When he got home, one of his older brothers said, "I told you you ought to run, crazy fool!"
The next morning the little boy readied himself for school but hung behind all the others. He waited in the woods until the other boys had cleared Ida's property and she had returned to her life of seclusion before he came out of hiding. When she came down to the property line later in the day to again wait for the boys, she found a little grave at the edge of the fence. On the grave lay a bouquet of flowers fashioned from scraps of material and a rock with these words scratched upon it:
Ida was not a very sociable neighbor and never looked favorably on those who might come to call and discouraged those who did so from returning. It was also in her nature to pinch a penny more than once before spending it, although somehow she managed to have the finest of clothes to wear, the only car in the county that ran, and the only house that was actually painted with store bought paint. Neighbors all knew she didn't actually earn the money for the fine things she possessed, but said it was a "dead man's work" that she lived on and often remarked at the difference in the farm since the old man had died. You might say that Ida had made herself to be the envy of many and the friend of none.
Every spring Ida would hire someone to help till the ground and plant row after row of cotton. When she was satisfied with the planting, she paid them (after pinching it twice) and sent them on their way. Ida, being the stingy miser that she was, always planted more than she could take care of herself and was not willing to pay anyone to help her. When the days grew long and hot she would sit on the porch, overwhelmed by the task at hand, and watch the cotton and the weeds grow side by side. As folks noticed the fields in a state of disrepair, many stopped to inquire if they might be of assistance, hoping to gain a few pennies for their labors. Ida always refused their offer, stating that she would get to it "tomorrow". Folks believed she actually intended to hoe the cotton but by the time the cotton was of the age to harvest and the tomorrows of opportunity had passed, the cotton was smothered by the weeds and only a few bales could be gathered.
Now a group of little boys lived just down the trail from Ida and passed by the house everyday on their way to school. Ida was her own "no trespassing" sign and to make certain the children did not step one foot onto her land, she posted herself up at the corner boundary and eyed the little ones as they picked their way along the path in single file. She scolded the little school goers the length of the property and even threw rocks at them if they got too close to the lines. When safely out of reach of Ida's rocks, the boys called out at the top of their lungs, "I- DEE SOUIE" as if to call a hog and some of them even made "Oinking" noises and grunting sounds to further make their point. This continued with occasional variations in the process until the spinster happened to mention it to the schoolmaster who was her only brother. Of course, the schoolmaster believed whatever version his sister presented to him and called the boys out after school for a thrashing. All the little boys except one ran off, laughing all the way. Only one little boy stood still and received the whipping of his life. Schoolmaster Creason used the backside of a bullwhip and thrashed the little boy's behind until he was almost too sore to make it home. When he got home, one of his older brothers said, "I told you you ought to run, crazy fool!"
The next morning the little boy readied himself for school but hung behind all the others. He waited in the woods until the other boys had cleared Ida's property and she had returned to her life of seclusion before he came out of hiding. When she came down to the property line later in the day to again wait for the boys, she found a little grave at the edge of the fence. On the grave lay a bouquet of flowers fashioned from scraps of material and a rock with these words scratched upon it:
"Here lies Ida Creason,
Gone but not forgotten.
If she hadn't a died
She would a hoed her cotton."
Now, the little boy did not mean this as a death threat as it was taken. He only wanted to get back at her for the punishment he had already received at the hands of her brother, and he vowed no matter what he would never admit he was responsible for the grave. He never thought Ida would know who had done the deed. What he didn't count on was that she would recognize the scraps from which he made the bouquet of flowers as being from his mother's Sunday dress. She wasn't at the property line that evening when the little boys went through, instead she was on his own front porch waiting with the rock and the bouquet of flowers. I'm sure I don't have to tell you that he got another lickin' that evening.
The next morning when the boys passed Ida's house and every morning for days to come, Ida could be found just as mean, stingy, and inhospitable, but standing in the cotton field with hoe in hand watching the boys make their way across the property line before returning to the work at hand. Rumor had it that she told the preacher she had met with God when she saw that grave and knew it was a sin to let the weeds kill the cotton. Whatever happened to Ida, she was still the envy of many and the friend of none but the cotton was clean.
That little boy was my Daddy. He was to tell me parts of this story more than once as I labored by his side on the farm. I would sometimes hesitate when it was time to do my chores and he would remind me of Ida. He sometimes said, "never put off 'til tomorrow what you can do today" or "better to make hay while the sun shines" but more oft than not he drove his point home successfully by saying "Gone but not forgotten, if she hadn't a died, she would a hoed her cotton". Nuff said.
