Mr. Andrew was a big round jolly man who always came in the door at the store with a laugh on his face and a prank in his pocket. Mr. Andrew also had a few odd habits that were always a curiosity to chillun; like rolling his thin nylon socks down leaving a neat roll just below his ankle. The rolled down socks seem to be a unique trademark. Curiosity eventually drove one of the little ones to ask, why he rolled his socks down like that. After a short, big chuckle he said, "to make little boys like you ask questions!" The chillun around the store tried several times to get a more logical explanation but, that was the only response that we ever got.

Mr. Andrew had another odd habit. A lot of folks smoked in those days. Most people carefully removed about one-third of the top from a new cigarette pack and used equal care in tapping out a cigarette and placing it between their lips, using great care to keep the end of the cigarette dry. When ready for a smoke Mr. Andrew pulled a new pack of Phillip Morris from the bib of his overalls, tore the entire top from the pack, pulled out a cigarette and proceed to roll it over his tongue until about one-half of it was soaked. He'd poke the wet half of the cigarette back into his mouth, struck a match on the sole of his shoe and lit it. He'd smoke a few big puffs, and then throw it away. It seemed such a waste, even to a youngster who usually gave little thought to waste. This odd ritual was never explained and I wasn't about to ask Mr. Andrew anymore questions about these curiosities.

Miss Artie, usually in a cotton dress covered with a dirty apron, was a large woman who sported unshaved legs and bare feet. When you aren't much over knee high, it's kinda' hard not to notice such things. Miss Artie was seldom without a huge lip full of Buttercup snuff and a tin of snuff in her apron pocket. Two large tins of Buttercup snuff was a staple item on Miss Arties grocery list each week.

Dippin' snuff wasn't an unusual habit for most folks around Myrick's Mill in those days, but most ladies were quite discreet about enjoying the pleasures offered by the finely ground powdery tobacco, sold in little round tin cans. Many a lady kept a box of snuff in their purse. Some would dip in public while others would only dip in the privacy of their home or among closest of friends. I guess you could say there were public dippers and private dippers. Reportedly, some would keep a dip in the cheek at all times, yet no one ever knew because they never spit, instead letting powder slowly dissolve and disappear over time. Occasionally the little tin box was retrieved from it's hiding place in a purse and the old dip was topped of with a fresh one, secretly and in private. Of course, us chillun sometimes moved around like mice and witnessed one of these discreet freshen-up performances but we never said anything.

Miss Artie was different. She enjoyed a big dip, a bulging lip full, and didn't care who knew it. On nearly every occasion of entering the store Miss Artie would proceed immediately to the drink box and pull out a Pepsi cola, pop off the cap with the bottle cap remover on the side of the drink box then proceed to down that big Pepsi, while maintaining a full lip of snuff. Us chillun' could never understand how she could keep the Pepsi from washing down all that snuff, but she somehow managed to keep the two separated.

As conversation began to drown in a muddle, Miss Artie would pause long enough to go to the doorway, push back the screen door, place her fingers across here lips and spit between them with jet force. Whee-e-e-e, a river of brown juice! Truly amazing!

©2003 - William C. Humphries, Jr.