PITCH

PINE trees were rich in pitch. We children chewed pitch gum constantly. Mother was always ironing over a piece of pitch gum in my apron pockets. The sticky mess would stick to the iron, and make Mother very unhappy. She would threaten me with dire punishments, but I went right on chewing pitch. It was good, and we were seldom at a town to buy gum.

One Fourth of July we children decided to celebrate, so we made our fire works by splitting small kindhings of pitch wood, setting it on fire and watching the nielting drops of pitch burn as they dropped to the ground.