One Sunday, while he was there, she had one, and her mother tried to give her a dose of turpentine to stop it. Accidently, she spilled it in her eye and it cured her. She never had another fit, so they got married and have kept each other in good humor ever since. III Becky Moore has eleven children of assorted colors and sizes. She has never been married, but that is not her fault. She has never stopped any of the fathers of her children from proposing, so if she has no father for her children it’s not her fault. The men round about are entirely to blame. The other mothers of the town are afraid that it is catching. They won’t let their children play with hers. IV +Tippy+ Sykes Jones’ family all shoot craps. The most interesting member of the family--also fond of bones, but of another kind--is Tippy, the Jones’ dog. He is so thin, that it amazes one that he lives at all. He sneaks into village kitchens if the housewives are careless about the doors and steals meats, even off the stoves. He also sucks eggs. For these offenses he has been sentenced to death dozens of times, and the sentences executed upon him, only they didn’t work. He has been fed bluestone, strychnine, nux vomica, even an entire Peruna bottle beaten up. It didn’t fatten him, but it didn’t kill him. So Eatonville has resigned itself to the plague of Tippy, reflecting that it has erred in certain matters and is being chastened. In spite of all the attempts upon his life, Tippy is still willing to be friendly with anyone who will let him. V +The Way of a Man with a Train+ Old Man Anderson lived seven or eight miles out in the country from Eatonville. Over by Lake Apopka. He raised feed-corn and cassava and went to market with it two or three times a year. He bought all of his victuals wholesale so he wouldn’t have to come to town for several months more. He was different from us citybred folks. He had never seen a train. Everybody laughed at him for even the smallest child in Eatonville had either been to Maitland or Orlando and watched a train go by. On Sunday afternoons all of the young people of the village would go over to Maitland, a mile away, to see Number 35 whizz southward on its way to Tampa and wave at the passengers. So we looked down on him a little. Even we children felt superior in the presence of a person so lacking in worldly knowledge.