xt7jh98zct60_40 https://exploreuk.uky.edu/dips/xt7jh98zct60/data/mets.xml https://exploreuk.uky.edu/dips/xt7jh98zct60/data/2015ms086.dao.xml Bevins, Martha 0.05 Cubic Feet 55 items archival material 2015ms086 English University of Kentucky The physical rights to the materials in this collection are held by the University of Kentucky Special Collections Research Center.  Contact the Special Collections Research Center for information regarding rights and use of this collection. Martha Bevins letters to Tom McCarthy Radio broadcasting. Agriculture -- Kentucky. Birds Women air pilots. 1958 March 20 text 1958 March 20 2016 https://exploreuk.uky.edu/dips/xt7jh98zct60/data/2015ms086/Box_ms_42/Folder_1/Item_40/1958_3_20_Bevins_Persimmon_Tree__POEM__ONCE_enclosed_p3.pdf 1958 March 20 1958 1958 March 20 section false xt7jh98zct60_40 xt7jh98zct60 WW" 7 V

Yes, you became a farmer in the not so long ago
When farmers plowed with horses and depended on the hoe.
Cut our logs in tandem, in winter or late fall "
To split it up for cordwood with grunts, and wedge, and maul.
You started in the Springtime to walk behind the plow
Which took weeks of doing, but takes but days right now.
Of course the drills and planters were the same except for size --
With the coming of the tractor, now we mechanize.
In the barn in early morning 'fore the skies began to clear
You'd be busy with the feeding, and mixing time was near. '
The cows came to the feeder trough, their necks with chains you bound,
The pinging in the milking pail-—a cheerful welcome sound.
And you pumped barrels of water and your breath can out in stem
As you eyed the far horizon to catch the sun's first gleam.
You shoveled out the yellow corn to hungry squealing hogs,
Your boots made slurping, sucking sounds in muddy barnyard bogs.
The roosters started in to crew, the little and the big,
You grabbed the broken four tined fork to wrestle and to dig.
There always seemed so mob of it, more than the barn could hold,
But you had learned to realize 'twas worth its weight in gold.
Then you went up to the house, stopped at woodsbed on the my
To feed the old woodburning stove just as the skies turned gray.
You set down to a breakfast that could be a feast for kings
0f sausage, eggs,potatoes, whcatcakes and other things.
And coffee, that was coffee, brewed in our granite pot
With cream as thick as butter, and “served, just piping hot.
With homemade bread and biscuits, with golden butter spread
To dip in dark molasses, or there'd be apple jell instead.
Then you‘d lean back from the table, making well filled stomach sounds
While the wife would stack the dishes and throw out coffee grounds.
You'd sit a minute, resting, get up, stretch, and say
"Guess I'd better get ageing 'r I'll get nothing done today"!
And the sun would just be peeping out there at the eastern skies.
And seemed to be a rubbing the cloud-webs from its eyes.
And you cocked your eyes toward heaven to check the clouds up there.
To see 11‘ snow was in the cards you sniffed the morning air.
The frost was thick on meadow, the chill wind hardly blew
So you oiled and greased the spreader and tightened up the screw.

, You whislted up the horses, they were walking toward the gate,
Put feed in the manger and checked harness while they ate.

 torning View Kentucky
20 March 1958

Hello all of you,

“ope your St. Patrick's Day Was gay and green despite the
incooperative weather. -

I celebrated the day by splattering around in the mud and snow to
tranSplant a little tree, which, though it hasn‘t the slightest
chance to survive, has answered a question that has puzzled me for
years. One of my tree books Says that the persimmon is the most
difficult of all our native trees to transplant -— a statement that

I could not understand as they are most hardy trees.

Down in the uncultivated sections of the pond-field are several

stray clumps of young persimmons, the tallest about 10 feet high

and just beginning to bear. about these taller ones Wander straggling
groups of smaller fellows, one of which I decided to move close to
the house where I could admire its waxen blooms more readily.
altogether, the native persimmon is an unusually satisfactory tree.
It Shapes nicely when given sufficient Space, while the foliage

is deeply green and glossy in summer, and turns an excellent red in
the fall. Few insects attack it. lhe little blooms are exotiCelly
attractive and the fruit is of great assistance to birds and small
animals as it persists long into the winter. Furthermore, I find it
delicious after several hard winter freezes have nipped it on the

I selected a nicely balanced tree about 4 feet tall and began circling
it in the snowy, wet soil. Presently my spade banged into a heavy root
lying about 5 inches under ground, a root much larger than the trunk
of my tree. * accredited it to a young black ash nearby and, cutting
through it, continued digging my circle. I planned to remove quite

a ball of earth with the tree to give it every possible encouragement.
Further around the little persimmon, I banged into the big root again,
and again cut it. Something, perhaps the way the tree vibrated when

I cut the big root, made me wonder. When I dug back along the root,
.1 found my little tree sprouting from it. Lifting it from the hole,

I understood what the tree book Was talking about. The little tree
had no root system at all, no feathery spray of feeder roots. It
derived its entire sustenance from the big root.

Obviously, unless from the original seed, persimmon trees of
transplanting size are completely dependent on their elders, and by
the time they have developed sufficient feeder roots of their own, they
hare also sent a tap root so deep that I am sure there is a matching
persimmon growing therefrom in Hirohito's gardens in Japan.


Apparently, If I am to have a persimmon near the house, I must plant

seeds in a li tle wire cage (to prevent the squirrels from unearthing
~ and eating them) and raise one in that manner.

uowever, near the persimmons, I found a volunteer clump of young

wild fragrant crab apples, the ancestor of many American apples,

though nearly extinct in itself. Where a bird found the seeds to

bring here, I cannot guess. he bloom of the wild crab is almost

identical to that of the wild rose, and the gay little apples should

please both birds and squirrels. Uonsequently, I now plan to

bring one of these close to the house -- where actually, no trees

are needed at all. But moving little trees aiout is so pleaSant.

Incidentally, if you have never noticed them, be sure_to look at

the blooms on your pawpaw trees in the early spring. ghey precede

or accompany the tiny new leaves, depending on temperatures. Along

with persimmon blooms, the pnwpaw blooms with their strange shape

and deep chocolaty color, are most forieng appearing in the temperate


I am receiving further evidence of what nice people your listener-

readers are. Many have written to hope I have recovered from the flu,

and to tell me how much they enjoyed my letters. One and all, they

deeply regret losing your radio program. I feel very sorry for those

who are practically shut—ins and relied on the program as almost

their only means of contact with the outdoors. They all like the

shoppers column and so do I. I should think you would be swamped with

customers for it.

Best wishes to you all