Education: School in Caney Valley

When I was a little chunk of a shirt-tailed lad, a-hoeing corn on the steep hillside, I'd get to the end of a row and look up Troublesome Creek and wonder ij anybody would ever come to larn the young 'uns. Nobody ever come in. Nobody ever went out. We jist growed up and never knowed nothin'. I can't read nor write; many of my chilluns can't read nor write, but I have grands and greats as is the purtiest speakin' and the easiest larnin' of any chilluns in the world. I want as they...

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