I never learned where Papa got the idea of shooting the cow-- whether it was his own idea or whether a neighbor had prescribed the remedy. And even though Papa was smart in most cases, I really think he used poor judgment when he shot the cow. He only meant for the shots to sting her enough to make our corn patch unpleasant for her. But he either misjudged his distance from the cow or he misread the size of shot in the shell he used. When he shot the cow, she just stood there, I guess wondering what hit her. Papa doubted that he had hit her at all. So he moved up closer and fired a second shot, which really hurt the old cow much more than Papa had meant to hurt her. When Mr. Whatley took a look at his cow, he was hurt even more. He told the County Judge about it and the judge told Papa to pay Mr. Whatley for his wounded cow. Papa argued that the cow had damaged his corn more than he had damaged the cow--in fact, more than the cow was worth. The judge agreed, that might well be true, but it didn't give Papa the right to go around shooting his neighbor's cow. Besides, in this case, the corn would get well much sooner than the cow would. Papa paid Mr. Whatley for his cow, and went home a little poorer and a lot wiser. I don't think Papa ever shot another cow. If he did, he didn't tell us about it. CHAPTER 5 BOOKS, FOLKLORE, MEDICINE AND DREAMS As I said earlier, I got along okay in school. But throughout school I was a slow reader. And this reading slowness has plagued me all my life. It even caused me quite a bit of trouble in college. As a small boy, when Santa Claus brought me a book, I was a little disappointed. I'd much rather have gotten some kind of a toy, especially one with wheels that would roll. We kids learned early in life how to do things, purely a matter of survival. But learning the "why" of things often came through reading and I was the slowest of readers. Even in high school I read very slowly, but I got what I read tolerably thorough. I never read my history more than one time and I made "A" throughout the course. The same was true with stories and other readings. In college I only read my history once. And I didn't even review for the final test and came out with a "C." There were a few books on the shelves in our house when I was a boy. Some had pictures, so I looked at them. Some didn't have, so I didn't look at them. And I certainly didn't read them. There were two books which stood out in our home, always available and close at hand. They were the Bible and the Sears, Roebuck Catalog. There were times when these two rivaled each other in importance. Yet they were both necessary, the Bible for living and dying and the catalog for "What ye shall put on." And then the catalog, after a new one took its place each year, became the forerunner of what we now know as bathroom tissue.