We kids went to school while Dode and Papa went about farming the small farm and improving the large one. The dry weather prevailed throughout the year. Grazing dried up and cattle got poor. Papa did what he could to feed his family and his livestock. The United States was at war with Germany and, luckily for us, Uncle Sam was buying rabbits. Jackrabbits brought ten cents each and cottontails brought six or eight cents. When we killed a rabbit, all we had to do was cut open his abdomen and sling his intestines out. Then we pitched the rabbits into the wagon and took them to town in the next two or three days. We were looking for most any honorable way to pick up an extra dollar. I have seen Papa and Mama take a 22 rifle and a lunch and some horse feed for their team and go out in a wagon and stay all day, while we kids were in school. Before night they would come home with rabbits piled eight or ten inches deep all over the wagon bed. One man bought a single-shot 22-rifle and some shells on credit-- about eight dollars worth. In one week he brought in enough rabbits to pay off the debt. That was one time you might say rabbits saved our lives. During the dry weather, while we were slowly losing about everything we ever had, Papa hired out to haul cottonseed cake in his wagon to ranchers somewhere west of Lamesa. I didn't know where he was taking it but there were times I didn't see him more than once or twice a week. Monroe Hamilton was one of our neighbors. He and his family lived about a mile from us. During the drought of 1917 his work horses got so weak and poor that they became exhausted while plowing in the field. They stopped in the middle of the field and had to be unhitched and walked home. He began feeding them more and working them less while they regained their strength. Mid-afternoon was about as long as they could keep working. By the time the horses were strong enough to work all day again, they had become accustomed to stopping their work about mid- afternoon and they refused to pull the plow after that time of day. One day Monroe became so unhappy with them that he unhitched them in the field where they had staged their sit-down strike, drove them to the barn, hitched them to his wagon and trotted them eight miles to Lamesa to get the mail. Then he trotted them eight miles back home. They had never experienced becoming exhausted while pulling a wagon out on the road. They were not smart enough to pull a sit-down strike anywhere except plowing in the field.