Gib, trailing his father like a shadow everywhere he went, had been up on the mountainside where Mark was cutting timber last week, and he had stepped on the sharp stob of a sassafras bush. It had punctured his bare foot like a wedge driven into soft pine. When Mark had brought the boy home, Lydia had opened the deep wound to make it bleed, drenched it in turpentine, and bandaged it. During the next days it had been difficult to know which hurt him more, the throbbing flesh of his swollen foot or the fact that he could not be active. Now, followed by Burn, he limped in the door, barefooted, dusty, his face eager and inquiring as he rested his weight on his good foot and balanced with the toes of the other.
“Where’s the bandage?” Lydia asked. He did not blink an eye. “It came loose. I was helping Burn drive the cows and did I stop to put it back on, he’d be mad at me.” He knew, and his mother knew, it was not Burnett that bothered the younger boy but the thought of being left behind.
—The Tall Woman written by Wilma Dykeman
Today’s Thankful November giveaway is a used copy of The Tall Woman written by Wilma Dykeman. To be entered in the giveaway leave a comment on this post. Giveaway ends November 21, 2024.
The excerpt reminds me of the time I injured my big toe and Granny doctored it.
I was about six years old. Pap was helping his brother Ray build his house. My cousin and I were playing in the basement of the unfinished house. The floor was still dirt and there was stuff laying here and there. As I often was in those days I was barefooted and stepped on an old tin can. It made the perfect check mark cut up the side of my toe. I still have the check mark scar today. I don’t recall it hurting much although I’m sure I cried and carried on at the time. I do remember Granny washing the cut, putting medicine on it, and then tying my toe up with gauze. For the rest of the day I was made to stay on the couch with my foot propped on a pillow.
Last night’s video: The Thread That Runs So True 28.
Tipper
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I stepped on a broken Coke bottle when I was about five. My daddy made me soak it in a bucket of coal oil. I thought it was going to hurt a lot when I put my foot in, but it did not. We didn’t go to the doctor and it healed up just fine. Later, when I was in college I read a book of short stories by James Thurber and in one of the stories there was a doctor who advocated not only using kerosene, what my daddy called coal oil, externally but taken orally as well. When he attempted to get his aging father to take some kerosene, the old man replied, “I’d rather die like a man, than live like a lamp.” I thought that was so funny.
I think maybe the old ways are the best way for healing, at least in some cases. Growing up in the 60’s, I do not remember going to the doctor. Home remedies were the way our family treated accidents and illness.
It’s for sure that I would love to win this book!
I neglected to say that there’s rarely a day that goes by that I don’t get some kind of injury. My wife will ask why my arm’s bleeding or “What did you do to your leg or your head?” Most times I have no idea what happened. Just a bump or scratch on something. I’ll be 82 next month and seems nothing much has changed since I was a barefoot kid running around the farm and woods.
I would enjoy winning this book. Growing up with 7 siblings on a farm, and often going barefoot, we had plenty of injuries to take care of. Mom would pour peroxide on the cuts before bandaging. She would also have us soak wounds (on our feet or hands) in Epsom salt water. She was very concerned about preventing infection.
I’m a little behind on my Blind Pig reading. A saying to fit this occasion would be….”a day late and a dollar short”
When I was little I was running holding a glass in my hand, fell and cut the ring finger on my right hand. I still have a scar there to this day. I too remember merthiolate, iodine and mecuricom. The burning was worse than the injury. My Nanna used Rosebud Salve. We liked that.
Goodness! You and Gib sure hurt yourselves good.
Gib sure was a trooper for wanting to keep on as always. 🙂 My MawMaw said she always went barefooted as a child.
Oh, that sounds like a great book!
Shortly after we moved into our house my little girl was running barefoot and unfortunately discovered a piece of jagged metal pipe barely sticking out of the ground. She’s got a thick scar to show for it but that girl was runnin’ barefoot again the second I’d let her!
My Mom always kept the miracle cure all in her house at all times. Mercurochrome for everything.
I remember many a “patch job” on our injuries done by Mom or Grandma when we were little! These stories sure bring back those memories!
I would love to have the book ‘The Tall Woman’! Sounds fascinating and I love to read about the Appalachia lives of those before us! The stories are amazing! Thank you for the opportunity Tipper!
We kids never wore shoes in the summer. I was forever stepping on rusty nails etc. Momma would have us soak our foot in an aluminum pie pan full of kerosene. Let me tell you… that blood would clot up and roll around in that pan like mercury. Never got infected and wasn’t sore the next day either.
Who would have thought I’d grow up and choose to work in surgery!!
That sounds like a good read! I sympathize with Gib!
Whenever my kids have to rest because of a hurt, it sure is hard to keep them still!
Its so fun to read all the comments. My goodness it’s a thousands wonders us older folks survived childhood. I rarely wore shoes outside growing up and even hate them inside to this day. I do have to wear socks inside though.
I can’t tell you how many run-ins I had growing up with rusty nails, broken glass bottles, sharp rocks and stobs of various sorts. My mother always kept a small bottle of mercurochrome on hand for my many injuries. I hated that stuff! Do they still make it? I finally gave up on going barefooted when I was about 10 or 12 years old. Good shoes are such a blessing, aren’t they?
Such great stories ! The excerpt from the wonderful book & the wonderful comments ! 🙂
Oh my goodness! I have not heard that word *stobbed* in many many years and it sure brought back a lot of memories. When I was about 7 or 8 years old,I stobbed my foot on a broken coke bottle and cut it deeply.Our neighbor saw me and half carried,half drug me to my Grandmas house. She about had a conniption fit but grabbed the kerosene and while our neighbor held me down Grandma poured the kerosene on my foot. I’m sure I howled like a dog ! She then put a salve on it from Watkins Company,had some clean rags that she wrapped around it and put me to bed.
We were not allowed to go “barefooted” until May Day (May 1), the same day you could start wearing white again. We only wore shoes to church until it was time to go back to school. If we got a cut of any kind, Mama brought out the Mercurochrome, which was guaranteed to burn you slap up!
My cousin and I used to walk about a mile barefoot in the summer to a creek that was way down a very unsafe hill together cooler in the water
one time I stepped on something in the water and my foot came out gushing with blood
it made a V shape cut on the side of my foot and we had to walk all the way back with it bleeding like mad! My neighbor carefully cleaned out all the dirt and tiny stones that had collected along the way. it bled for days and I should have had stitches and a tetanus shot but my mother didn’t even ask what happened and I didn’t tell her because I wasn’t supposed to leave the house if she wasn’t home. I still have that scar.
I would enjoy reading this book!
I sure can sympathize anyone stepping on something dangerous enough to bleed! I remember the turpentine being used as well. The only problem I had with being barefooted was when I jumped out of the top of a hay barn into a large pile of cow poop! I was so distraught I had poop on it. My aunty washed it all off for me and since then I’ve done very little barefooting around. haha
I was a die-hard barefoot girl. My parents had the worst time keeping shoes on my feet, that is until, at the age of 6, I cut my foot once on a very sharp rock. It bled like a stuck pig and talk about hurt! Mom washed it out and put mercurochrome on it. I hollered and cried through the whole procedure because the cut was deep. Out came the gauze bandages and on top of that an Ace bandage wrapped it to keep it clean. Needless to say my parents had no problem getting me to wear shoes or at least sandals after that. Then there was my toddler brother who hated to wear anything more than his training pants. He’d run through the house like that even in the dead of winter. Mom would dress him in the morning and by 10 am he’d be barefoot and trainer pants only. One snowy day he announced to us all that he was running away from home. Out the door he went in only his underwear. Within 15 seconds he came back inside and scolded us for not telling him it’s cold out there! He was a Pure-D mess, my brother.
Reminds me of my mamaw. ❤️
I grew up in a small mountain town in Mexico. I remember my mother and grandmother, uncles and aunts making a concoction with turpentine to treat arthritis. I have been asking around to the oldest of my few family members left to try to replicate since they now have bad arthritis. I long so much for those days.
One thing I remember when growing up is that anytime my brother and I got hurt, mama nor daddy never panicked. If they stayed calm, it helped. Good advice still today. We had our share of kerosene and turpentine used on us and it’s a wonder it didn’t kill us, but it didn’t. Then there was the mercurochrome or the orange stuff I called it. Thought it was cool to have orange painted on me, LOL. What times we had.
Sassafras tea is so good…hot or cold!
Had you on my mind this morning Tipper because I made a tray of white sweet potato “toast” and wondered if this is something you have tried. You slice sweet potatotes about 1/4 ” thick, lightly oil and season them, and bake for about 20-30 minutes in a 425° oven. I put them on a piece of parchment paper to ease clean up. We usually top it with an egg, ot it is also good with sliced avocado and tomatoes. Dad has also spread peanut buttter on, and some sliced banana. I also do this with reqular sweet potatoes, and white potatoes, but the white sweet potatoes are my favorite. Have a blessed weekend!
Janet-I have never had that but boy it sounds good 🙂
My daddy worked as a heavy equipment operator most of his life..still does actually but not full time these days. So when I would hurt myself growing up he’d say ehh just rub a little diesel fuel on it, it’ll be fine. I don’t remember mama actually letting him do it but if she hadn’t been around I’m sure I would have had many wounds cleaned with it. I was always a big wuss when it came to injuries and remember one time riding my bike at granny and pawpaws house I wrecked and skidded across their dirt and gravel driveway. Ended up with rocks and dirt imbedded in my knee and squalled my head off because I knew they’d insist on removing the debris. Well granny took me up on the porch and before I knew it she had dumped what seemed like an entire bottle of peroxide on my knee…I started to have a hollerin fit until granny started laughing which stopped my fit immediately as I looked down and became amazed as that peroxide boiled all that stuff out of my wound lol. Once I realized it didn’t hurt I wanted her to keep pouring it on so I could watch my knee “boil” haha
I miss the carefree days of childhood and running barefoot. This book sounds like an interesting read.
That sounds like such a great book!
I’m sure I had my share of foot injuries just like all the other commenters. (glass, nails, splinters knives, axes and even once a hoe) The injury from a ‘stob” in the story caught my attention. Most of my injuries were treated by Mom or Grandma except the one from a ‘stob’. I fell off a horse right after the county had mowed the road sides and landed on my back in the ditch. A stob punctured my back and broke off inside. Mom was afraid to try to get it out because it might be in my kidney so off we went to the emergency room. Luckily it missed the kidney but I had landed on my head in the gravel before flopping into the ditch and had a concussion. They kept me two days for ‘observation’.
I’ve had plenty of run-ins with splinters, stickers, and thorns in my days. my cousin’s and I used to sit together on summer days with needles in hand and pick out stickers in our feet from running around barefooted. I remember one particular time when I had a bad infected splitter in my hand and I wouldn’t let anybody touch it to try to get it out. But my aunt bribed me saying she would buy me Ricky Nelson’s newest 45 record if I let her take that splinter out. I took her up on the deal, Ricky Nelson was my favorite back in those days.
In childhood days and living isolated with no medical help to run to when sick or injured, one learned to do home treatment methods. Over the years one grows away from much of this, but recently, after a few bad falls, two of which broke bones, so that I now require a wheeled walker when going outdoor, my doctor told me to get back to what he called ‘earthing’ – to get back to going barefoot: at the beach, in a park or field of grass and just get back to nature barefoot at least a few times a week – that in doing so, it would help restore what has been lost from always wearing shoes indoor and outdoor and what we now call modern day health care. I guess ‘progress’ is not always a good thing and the old ways really were the better path. Have a wonderful day celebrating Appalachia Tipper.
When I would injure myself when I was young my mother would wash it, pour kerosene on it and wrap it with a piece of old bed sheet. Then she’d tell me if gonna be dumb you gotta be tough, now get on outta here and try not to cut your leg off.
Never went barefooted much, my mom was a real believer in “hook worms” from bare feet. She did tell of her baby brother who stepped on a broken jar; the wound would heal over & then get sore again. One day when it was active she took something and pressed down on it, to have the circular top of that jar pop out. Gross! But it healed then. When i start tearing down old structures i always make sure my tetanus shot is current. Don’t need no lockjaw!
I’d like to win this book. I remember playing baseball in my backyard and using crazy things for the bases. One was a rusty overturned bicycle. Of course I ran right into it and it sliced between my toes. I was barefoot and probably needed stitches but it was just washed and a bandaid applied lol.
Sassafras grows most everywhere in the county next to us in southern Ohio, that’s Adams county and we live in Brown County. It grows pretty thick along the roadsides there, we always had a supply of it when I was growing up and I always liked it but haven’t had any for several years.
Sounds like another good read
Thank you
I have never heard of using turpentine or kerosene for things like this, and wonder how people lived through that, oh my goodness. My dad’s go to cure all for wounds was mercurochrome, “put some mercurochrome on it!”. Whatever was in that bright orange liquid stung so much and I did not like it. And whatever happened you sure didn’t want Daddy putting it on for you because he was not gentle using that stick applicator thing to daub it on with; it was more like being doused with it by the time he was done with you putting so much on – full coverage & then some is what he aimed for. It was sorta like either be quiet about getting hurt or be ready to suffer through his applying the mercurochrome, LOL! My mother was much gentler and less aggressive with the mercurochrome.
Apparently as a child my dad (born in 1913) had witnessed someone dying of lockjaw & it must have been a horrible thing. He made sure we were up-to-date on tetanus shots due to that experience.
I can remember having turpentine put on sores growing up. When I tell people that now they look at me in disbelief.
kerosene for cuts or punctures, horse linament at times—but what grabbed my attention in the story was the word sassafras–I love to get sassafras root from somewhere and make tea in the spring….Indians drank it to purify your body from toxins that built up in the winter from being sedentary and not having fresh greens etc to eat all winter….when done correctly it tastes like the best root beer on the planet, and that is without adding sugar or any sweetener….mmmmm I would give anything to have a good supplier of sassafras root (I often wonder if your family has any growing on your place, and if you ever drank the teas either for pleasure or health purposes)
Gaylia-we do have it growing here 🙂 I’ve made it but not very often.
Gaylia, reading your comment reminded me of a time many moons ago when they were doing construction on some of the roads here in Corbin. Me and my Mommy was walking through part of it where they had the sidewalks tore up and I fell and hurt my leg pretty bad. An older lady that lived close to Mommy told her to put kerosene on it and I remember thinking it wasn’t such a great idea and thought it would burn like the dickens but it was actually very soothing and my leg healed quickly without leaving a scar. Also, I didn’t know that about sassafras tea. Thank you for sharing. 🙂
Oh, the memories this brings back. When I was about eight years old I stepped on a rusty nail sticking up in a board. I was wearing thin soled shoes and the shoe stuck and I couldn’t pull my foot off of the nail. Of course that terrified me as much as stepping on the nail. My brother ran over and pulled my foot off and carried me to the house. Grandma sent him running to the cellar for the “coal oil” lamp.(kerosene). They soaked my foot in it and wrapped it up. That’s just what you did in those days. I’m 79 and remember it like it was yesterday. Thanks for the memories.
My feet hurt just reading about those cuts. I don’t remember ever cutting my foot but back in the 50’s I would run across the gravel barnyard barefooted. And walk out to the field to get the cows in the evening so they could be milked. I still go barefooted at 77 but only in my house.
Sounds like a very interesting book.
Turpentine was used for a good many different things. Daddy would put it on the hoof of a sore-footed mule to take care of any bacteria. I know he had it used on him to clean some of his cuts and scrapes growing up.
Oh goodness, reading both descriptions of the injuries made me wince in pain. I remember my mom telling me about a kid in her neighborhood who died from an infection he got from stepping on a rusty nail. My mom was born in 1927, so this happened a long time ago, but it made a lasting impression on me.
I’m also guilty of stepping on glass walking home from school. My grandpa poured kerosene on it. I’ve also stepped on nails and managed to catch my bottom on a nail once. I guess you could say I used a lot of kerosene and turpentine. I love old stories and this one sounds really good.
Brenda, I have got to shut up with this, in high school one of the boys put a roofing nail in the chair of a coach. When the coach got through with the paddle, kerosene or turpentine would not of did him anyone good. I do think he would have appreciated someone bringing him a large ice pack or 10 lb bag of ice! Back in my day you didn’t go home and tell your parents you got your butt tore up at school, they would have tore it up again because of you misbehaving.
I would love to read this book. Thank you for sharing.
I don’t know how many rusty nails I stepped on as a child and even now I don’t like wearing shoes.
I read The Tall Woman years ago and need to go to the library and see if they have it.
I love the stories of everyone! They bring back so many memories❤. My brothers were burning a pile of storm sticks and such and my twin and I were told to stay inside the house. Well, we were maybe 5 and didn’t always behave! We went running outside, Mom went to another room to iron and we escaped! The boys had just stirred the fire with a pitch fork and instead of sticking the prongs into the ground, laid it down prongs up. Of course , I was running and my ankle went in between those prongs and burned my ankle and part way up my leg and one stuck almost dead center. None of us wanted to be in trouble so they rushed me into the house, got a wet wash rag and tried to keep me from crying! Mom, being Mom, came running into the room, took one look, headed us all to the car and to the Dr. whooeee, we were in trouble! I still have the scar where one prong went into my ankle, the burn scars are now gone, 68 years later!!! ahhhh, memories! Thank you Tipper! I would love to read the book! God bless you and yours❤❤
When my parents and grandparents were putting an addition onto my childhood home, I stepped right on an old nail and part of it got stuck in the ball of my foot. Oh, I carried on and cried while 3 of them held me down and grandma dug that thing out with a needle. They doused me with peroxide and mercurochrome. I guess it worked because I have had no aftereffects!
It is funny how things like this come to mind in your past when you read about someone else getting hurt in a story. Sometimes the stories are painful, but sometimes the memories are sweet.
I stepped on a rusty nail once when l was a kid. My grandmother squeezed the wound to make it bleed. Then she wrapped my foot with gauze soaked in kerosene. She was a firm believer in the curative power of kerosene. She would give me a spoonful of sugar with a few drops of kerosene for a bad cough.
Oh the innocents of childhood! Stories like this unlock memories. Thanks.
Folks of a certain age all have lots of childhood scars. I have mine, from a nail in the foot to a knife wound, self-inflict, in my thigh. “I told you not to run with that pocketknife open!” A rat bite nearly did me in. I still have the scar on my finger. “Don’t ever catch a wild animal with your bare hands again!”
I too remember walking barefooted as a child Near the railroad tracks there was always broken glasss, rusty nails, etc. I suffered many cuts on my feet. I was either treated at home with kerosene or toted off to the neighbor lady who had the good stuff, mercurocrome. Man did it set you on fire! You didn’t run to the doctors in those days.
This certainly brought back memories to me. When I was 10 yrs old, i cut my little toe with the ax while running around barefooted and trying to cut a piece of wood. I ran in the house to put tape on it so my Mother wouldn’t know not realizing I was leaving a bloody footprint on the walk. When Mother saw it, she came in to see what the problem was. Of course the tape wasn’t sticking with all the blood. She poured turpentine on it and let me tell you,,,,that burned! When my Dad got home he decided I should go to the small town Dr. (which by the way wasn’t always sober!) and without even a tetanus shot or numbing my toe, proceeded to put three metal clamps in it. Don’t know which hurt worse, the cut, turpentine or clamps! Anyway, I’m now 85, here to tell about it and still have the toe. When I tell anyone Mother poured turpentine on it, they can’t believe it! It’s all we had and she did the best she could. Also, I must tell you the trip to the Dr. cost my Dad a whole $2.00. That was in 1949. Yes, things have certainly changed!
Tipper
Would love to win the book!
Joanna
When I was about 5 years old, I was watching my mom do the laundry. She had a wringer washer with a double tub to rinse the clothes. The double tub had a cross bar at the bottom I would stand on for a better view. Somehow my (always bare), foot went under the crossbar which was just jagged metal, causing a lightening bolt cut between my second and third toe. I didn’t feel it until I walked into the big bedroom and looked in a floor length mirror and saw a pool of blood around my foot. I screamed bloody murder. My mom came a running and I remember she soaked my foot to stop the bleeding, doused it with hydrogen peroxide and bandaged it. I remember her saying she had to clean it so I would not get lockjaw. I remember getting a lot of attention that day! I was a middle child of 7 and I had an infant sister at the time. I have a pretty prominent scar some 63 years later .
Would like to have the book. I stepped on a mail in a board as a child. My dad soaked my foot in kerosene or turpentine . Can’t remember just remember being scared!
Oh the memories of childhood injuries. Grandma’s cure was mercurochrome! And if we had been berry picking Grandma insisted be coat our scratches will alcohol = ouch.
If that stob wood a been anythang but sassafras he wood have got blood pizin an died.
What’s being left handed got to do with it? I have been blessed with that curse!
Tipper, you read us the greatest stories ever…My husband and I look forward to Friday night readings. Thank you for all that you do.
Kelly Shook
Home doctoring is the way! When I was 5 I got my arm ate by a wringer washer machine. Mommy doctored me every day until that arm healed at least a month. She’d motion for me to come and I would. Then she’d spray something on my aem and wrap it in homemade cotton bandages made of a sheet I reckon. I’d pay every penny I have and give just about anything I have to have my dear mommy wrap my arm once more-oh just once more is all I’d ask for and a glimpse, smell, look in her eyes or feel the touch of her-just once more is all…..god bless you all and remember love is really the only thing that matters, ever has mattered or ever will!!! Love and hug and cherish every moment you can!!!
Sadie,
I loved your beautiful comment about your mother and about love……..THANK YOU!
I have a program at the nearby state prison. The other day as we were talking we noticed that one guy had a big wound on his arm. He works in the prison kitchen and burned his arm badly. He said that he put mustard on it and it took out the hurt. I had never heard of using mustard on a burn. When I was a kid we used butter, but mustard was a new one for me. Have you ever heard of that?
Jean, I have heard of putting mustard on burns. On one of my last jobs, I worked around a one thousand gallon tank of rolling hot boiling water, I would sometimes get splashed on my lower legs or ankles with the hot water and would get burned. I would do a dance called the “the hot water quick step” and bless it real good. It was too hot on this job to wear a rubber protective apron, we tried these and would get so hot we would get sick or nearly pass out. I worked it because it was a day shift job and I didn’t have to work the “graveyard shift.”
Read that book years ago, would love to reread. Raised on all kinds of remedies. Thought lots of them crazy but they were not!
Jean-I have heard of mustard plasters 🙂
Going barefooted was the norm here in the Smokies when I was a girl. It amazes me now thinking how much us 7 kids could have gotten hurt more. There was always broken glass from mom’s Canning jars peeking out of the ground somewhere and rusty nails from dad’s building something for his family or neighbors. Makes shivers go up my spine thinking of either sticking in my foot.
I love these stories! I remember the days we doctored everything at home. Why a doctor was not a rich man in our days. My second great grandfather was a medical doctor during the Civil War, but he was also an herbalist, so there were many healing things passed down.
Thank you for sharing and I love when you say you probably carried on at the time. Isn’t that the way we do as younguns. I got tickled at that.
I remember stepping on honey bees when I was a kid and just like you, I was barefooted. And to this day, I still prefer to be barefooted over wearing shoes, which I rarely do in the house and when I’m outside, unless it’s cold, I wear flipflops or sandals. At least I did learn to wear some sort of foot protection against the honey bees when walking in the grass!
Denise, I am like you, I like going barefooted. Now at 70 years old, I wear some type of slip on shoes outdoors but am always barefooted in my house. Doing this has nothing to do with being clean. These old feet ain’t as tough as they once were when I am outside, either that or the things that stick and the small rocks are sharper than they use to be. Stepping on a bee will make you dance and maybe say words you don’t hear in Sunday School!
I’d love to win a copy of The Tall Woman. I need to know what happens to Gib and his foot. lol
Ouch …turpentine sounds like a rough cleanser.
I remember when I was about 9-10 years old we were running around bare foot at night. Some one had left a garden rake laying on the ground with the tines pointing up, managed to step on it and cut a nice gash in my foot. Nearly seventy years later, if I see a rake laying tines side up I never fail to correct the impending hazard.
When I was kid back in 50 and 60’s, kerosene was the go to “medicine “ for any type of cut. I had many kerosene soaked rags or bandages tied around cuts.During the summer months I kept at least one foot hurt all the time either from a cut or nail stuck in it. It’s hard to hop around when both feet are hurt at the same time! I have a large scar beside one my knees from an old bed spring breaking and going into my leg beside of my knee. Mother tied a kerosene bandage around it and there was never any infection. I once worked a job grinding wire brush “flats” for cotton mill card machines where my hands stayed soaked in kerosene. My hands never got sore or infected. My father in law worked many years in a machine shop and he would joke and say the owner/boss would tell them if you hadn’t cut off your hand, finger or arm to pour some “red oil” on it. He kept a bottle in the shop at all times.
Anytime I hear sassafras I think of my Mother and Grandmother sending me every year to get finger size sticks of sassafras to put in their sacks of dried apples. Each of them stored their dried apples in a white sack similar to a pillow case. I guess they thought the sticks would keep bugs out of their apples. It must have worked, I never got sick from eating their good fried apple pies fried in hog lard. These pies were so good you would run out into the yard and shout for joy! The apples were from a tree they called a horse apple tree, the apples were only used for drying, pies and jelly.