When Boweaver was in the first grade, he was learning to read quite well and a lot of people had started telling him he was a real smart boy, so he pestered his dad to take him along when he made his annual journey into town to list his personal property taxes.

            When the howdies were done and the pencil work was begun, Boweaver took an intense interest in what was being said.  And it quickly began to dawn on the boy that what was being said was a whole lot of "no's" and "no sir's" where he distinctly felt there should have been some "yesses."

            Some of the things that were getting "no" answers, Boweaver was certain he remembered seeing around the house and barn.  He sat up a little straighter on the edge of his chair next to Cap'n Fred's elbow and started to squirm.

            Pretty soon he came to the conclusion he could help matters along, and when the tax man would ask if they had "so-and-so," he would pipe up and answer before his daddy could.

            Help probably would have been all right, except most of Boweaver's answers were "yesses" that were getting in before Fred could get out his "no's."

            Fred now began to squirm, and leaning closer over the tax-listing table, made a determined effort to get his answers in ahead of Boweaver.

            This didn't help much, because now Boweaver had become caught up in the movement of things and when Fred managed to get an answer in first, Boweaver would correct him where he figured his old man was forgetting something.

            Now Boweaver was getting the impression that the tax-list taker thought he was a really bright boy, because that official had turned in his seat and was directing his questions to Boweaver instead of Fred.  Boweaver was quick with his answers, and Fred began to sweat.

            Boweaver finally finished listing taxes – probably the first person in the history of Hertford County to list so accurately – leaving a well-satisfied tax-man and heading home with an exasperated father, who was an expert at cussing when the occasion warranted and who had pretty fixed ideas about how to handle smart-mouthed younguns.

            Rubbing his tender backside, Boweaver said to himself that he really never had seen his old man quite so put out.

~~~
"Cap'n Fred" Pearce at Poor Town, c. 1928