There stood her mother on the outside; she was all scarred up. And the young girl was looking at her from the train, finally said, "Look at that old haggy looking woman." That was the girl's mother. Said, "Isn't she horrible? My, wouldn't you hate to have to set at the table with her to eat?" That was her girlfriend.

Then, you know how all boys are; they get a little sweetheart when they get about sixteen, seventeen years old. I, like all little boys, I had a little girlfriend. I thought she was prettiest thing I ever seen, teeth like pearls, you know, eyes like a dove. And we went riding, she and I and another boy and his girlfriend.