George Joseph Vining:
An Account of His Life


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G. J. Vining,
An Account of His Life


Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Notes

Chapter Six

I will jump now to our last move before Pa's death and our moving back to the neighborhood Pine Bluff. We were about 36 miles on the big road --Big Road-- from Pine Bluff -- Fannie, Bessie and I were at home, Tom was working over in the Sanders neighborhood east of us a few miles. Bro Tom was courting his first wife, a relative of the Sanders, but a much better woman than the others seemingly, she was a good worker, nice house keeper, she and Tom got along finely -- at that time she was the best morally, for Bro Tom drank too much.

At about the same time, sister Fanny became enamored of a worthless, no count, low down, depraved piece of white trash that you could find a day's travel. He had few redeeming qualities, yet did not drink much -- he was too lazy to drink, fight or swear. Well, they married, I did not have sense enough to object perhaps it would have done no good. Pa nor Tom was at home, she --Fannie-- was good at needle work and he may have thought she would support him. I remember sister made a pretty bride, but there was a look on her face I did not like. More of melancholy or sadness than joy, and it came out afterward she knew she was marrying beneath her thought it would benefit us.

Here --This was in Drew Co. and was-- the first place I remember getting wages --the meager sum of-- $4 a month and they gave me my dinner --yet I felt proud to make so much and get my dinner too--. I think that was in trade --I took it in trade-- or such as they had to live on. I know I always brought home some meal on Saturday night, new --now-- meal as little as you might think was a staple article of diet with us, it was all we had except sometimes a neighbor would kill a deer or beef and give us a piece -- we cooked dodgers and made coffee out of the siftings, some salt in the middle of the table dipped into by all -- our lights was --were composed of-- a rag wick in some grease or else pine knots. During all these years I had picked up promiscuously some information, most by reading and hearing from others, but we very seldom saw, till much later, a newspaper, and they were not the kind to appeal to lad of 16.

Well, my new brother-in-law soon tired of our simple life, he would have to move to town, if you could call it a move. So, to Pine Bluff we went. I don't think he had anything special in view, but thought he could pick up something easier there than in a poor hard county. I know he was light fingered and would not work. I well remember the procession. I was in the lead, my costume was at that date shirt and pants, the latter generally Osnaburg dyed coperas color, shirt not quite so coarse. No underwear -- seldom shoes as I mentioned before, sometimes 1 gallus, sometimes 2, often only a belt, a cheap cap on my head, my sole earthly possession of any value was one coonskin, which I carried myself and guarded securely -- the rest of the caravan was in the same keeping. Sister must of looked better as she kept the finer feminine instinct

We were going above town a short way and I stopped at the grocery store of Hudson and Keeler to exchange my coonskin for some cheese and crackers. My odd appearance or my english must have caused them to notice me more particularly, one said to me "what is your name little man?" I said " George," he said "yes but George what?" I said " Vining," he said " what, old man TV's --Tom Vining's-- son?" I said "yes, sir." He turned aside and said something in a low voice to another man, then turn to me again in said "My son, do you know that your Father is dead?" I said "no sir, I reckon not, he's down on the Bayou teaching school." He said, " he was but he's dead, was buried last week" I turned back and told the sisters. It was an addition to our sorrows and troubles -- we never heard the particulars, or saw his grave.

I went above town than in worked a short time with some charcoal burners, and there I went to Cull Brewers, do not know how long I stayed. I got the same price --princely sum-- of $4 per month, and took that out in stores orders to Pa's family. I paid 5¢ --50 cts-- per yd for poor cottonade for pants, and the first blackberry patch nearly left me like Adam.

In passing back and forth from Brewers to Pine Bluff, I in some way fell in with your grandfather Frelin Aldridge. He was a good man, lived a right life, honest all day long, never knew him to do a wrong act intentionally if it all. Well, I next went to live with him, I got my same old $4.00 a month, and the --my-- board. My work was not so hard and I learned more, that was better every way for a while. I was there some months and learned considerable of the business of bakery, especially how to grease pans.

His bro in law John Hanley --Hawley-- about this time got Mr. Aldridge to let him had me to drive a dray on shares. I paid Mr. Aldridge $5.00 a month for board -- when I could only earn with him $4.00. Funny. I was too small to handle heavy stuff, like lard and whiskey barrels, bales of cotton -- I believe I could handle flour barrells and lighter mdse: but I had to haul everything including hogheads of hardware. When I undertook a job, so I had to hire a hand and gave him 1/3 of my pay so that would be 83 cents --left 8 1/3 cts.-- each, but I was busy day and night and often all day Sunday, as there was no warehouse. Part of the time the boat landed the goods right out in the rain and mud, often in the night, not stopping to collect the bill till she returned, coming back down. Merchants and others were very kind to me. No merchant ran a dray in those days, much less of delivery wagon. One man wanted --threatened-- to whip me because I got so much of the trade. I was nothing but a little runt of a fellow, but he had friends. His son lives here yet. A long chapter this.


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Copyright © 2011 Ellen Wilds, all rights reserved. Redistribution and/or reuse terms of license. Disclaimer for this document: "George Vining: An Account of His Life, transcribed and assembled by Ellen S. Wilds, December 1999. The materials published here are presented "as is", without warranty of any kind to the extent permitted by applicable law, and without any promise of validity and/or accuracy."