A BARREL OF BERRIES

The other day while cleaning an old fence row I was clearing some blackberry vines and it reminded me of my first business deal back in the 1930’s when I was a young boy.

I had taken some dried poke root over to Coy Ham’s store and ran into Tom Roten a drummer from Wilkes county. Tom came by to pick up the roots and herbs that Coy had taken in on trade. I helped Tom unload a sixty gallon barrel. It was blackberry season and Coy would pay five cents per gallon. He would not pay you cash money; you had to take the value of the berries in trade on merchandise. At the time, I had no idea what Tom paid Coy for the berries.

After Coy and Tom settled up I helped Tom load his truck. While we were working I started telling Tom what a good blackberry picker I was but I didn’t bother because I couldn’t make wages at five cents per gallon. Tom sure surprised me when he said "I’ll tell you what I’ll do. If you will promise to pick a barrel of berries, I’ll pay you cash on the barrel head, ten cents per gallon. That’s six dollars for a full barrel of berries." I took him up on that deal faster than stink gets on cow manure!

We shook hands on the deal and Tom gave me a ride home and dropped an empty barrel at our house where we rolled it to the back of the woodshed. "Remember, we made a deal on a full barrel of berries" Tom yelled as he drove away.

I picked blackberries from daylight until dark every day with the exception of Sunday. When I poured berries into the barrel on the third day it was half full. When I looked the next morning the berries had packed down and were starting to ferment. That barrel was only a quarter full!

Each day I kept putting berries in and they kept packing down. I kept picking and pouring! Ten days later when Tom drove up in his truck that barrel was full to the brim. I had actually put one hundred and twenty gallons of loose berries into that sixty gallon barrel! It was smelling to high heavens!

In the meantime, Preacher Taylor from over towards the White Top Mountain had come by and smelled those blackberries fermenting in that barrel. He told me that I would, more that likely, split hell wide open because those berries would be used to make wine and strong drink. He went on about being deceived, raising a ruckus and fornicating with your own off-spring.

By this time I knew all I wanted to know about being deceived. "Preacher, did you ever sell Ron Blevins any of that corn you raise?" I asked. Ron was his neighbor and the biggest bootlegger in the country. I knew he had and it really hit home. He later told my Father I didn’t have any respect for my elders, especially men of the cloth!

I was kind of glad that my Father was there when Tom came to pick up that barrel of berries. Tom handed me a five dollar bill. I took the money and put it in the bib pocket of my overalls and said "Sixty gallons at ten cents per gallon comes to six dollars. You owe me another dollar." Tom replied. "I always deduct a dollar for rent on the barrel" as he glanced at my Father. He then added "but I reckon, since we didn’t talk about that before we shook that I’ll just have to eat the rental charge." He handed me another dollar!

Tom got his dolly and my Father and I helped him load that barrel of berries onto his truck ending a very short career in the blackberry picking business!

I later learned that Tom sold those berries for twenty cents per gallon. He paid Coy fifteen cents per gallon!

A berry hanging on the vine
Can be used
To make good wine.
Although the diners
May be whiners,
They are not the ones
To be deceived!