When we did not
have our rubber band guns handy and wanted to have a war (Richard and I grew up
fighting and often not just pretend) corncobs were a favorite weapon. They were light enough to just sting and not
do any real damage like a rock would. We
often had a two-man corncob fight or we could have a dandy war when some of our
cousins came over.
We would choose up
sides, gather a supply of corncobs in our pockets, scatter out, then go looking
for the “enemy” around the barn. There
was not much in the way of rules. I do
not recall that we had any scoring system.
We usually just fought until we got tired of it and went off looking for
something else to do.
Of course, leave
it to old Dick to figure out a way to cheat.
He often would have a secret supply of corncobs soaking somewhere in a
bucket of water. A dry corncob is light
and inaccurate to throw but a wet cob is heavy and throws more like a
rock. You sure knew it when you got
belted with one of those! Naturally we
would yell that he was not playing fair and sometimes when he resorted to his “secret
weapon” we would get mad and start throwing rocks or else just walk away. It was usually the latter because throwing
rocks could result in a cross-country chase and it was often too hot for that
unless you were headed for the creek and a swim.
Those plentiful
corncobs were useful for a lot of things.
They made pretty good handles for either a file or a wood rasp and they
could be used for a stopper in a water keg or a coal oil can. They also could be made into dandy corncob
pipes. Fairly recently shelled corncobs
were the best for a pipe and I always preferred the red ones. It seemed that the outer part of the red ones
was a bit harder and more durable than the white one and would not burn through
so quick.
To make a pipe,
you first cut a section of cob about two inches long. Then, using the small bald of a pocketknife,
it was necessary to hollow out the pith from the inside down to within about a
quarter of an inch of the bottom. Again
using the small knife blade, a hole for the pipestem was drilled through the cob
just above the bottom.
The pipestem was
made from a section of grapevine six or seven inches long. We used a straight section between leaf joints. The vine has a small pith right down the
middle. We used a straight piece of
bailing wire to drill out the pith to make a hole through the vine/pipestem. The baling wire was heated ret hot over a
candle flame or over a sort of burner that could be made from an old baking
powder can with a hole cut in the lid.
We would fill it with coal oil and use a strip of gunny sack for a
wick. It gave a hotter flame than a
candle.
 |
| General MacArthur with his famous corncob pipe. He was born next door in Arkansas |
Our parents knew
that we made and carried around corncob pipes for fun, but of course, it was
stricktly forbidden to put tobacco into one.
Once in a while we might sneak a pipefull of Dad’s Prince Albert but
there were a variety of other things we could smoke in a corncob pipe. We sometimes used coffee grounds but they
were quite acrid and did not taste very good.
There were various coarse weed seeds, some of which was called “Indian
tobacco” but they had a pretty sharp taste, too. The best thing was dried cornsilks. Those cornsilks made pretty fair cigarettes,
too, when we got a hold of a packet of cigarette papers from a sack of Bull
Durham. The dry cornsilks rolled into
neat cigarettes. They burned kind of
like a dynamite fuse but we could get three or four good puffs before they
burned our fingers.
We had to be very
careful about smoking anything. I do
believe that Mother had the most sensitive nose in the county. If we had been down behind the barn smoking
cornsilks or something else even way off in the woods, no matter how carefully
we chewed on a sassafras root or a willow twig, it seemed that Mother could
smell smoke on your straw hat or your clothes almost as far as she could see
you. Sometimes we could make the excuse
that we had built a campfire out in the woods, but she could often identify the
kind of smoke.
Getting caught
smoking was one of the offenses that could result in a good licking. Mother, however, never administered corporal
punishment. That was reserved for Dad
when he came in from the fields. Most
offenses such as smoking cornsilks were good for three or four swings of Dad’s
razor strop or his belt. That was not
too bad as the strop or belt were wide enough to just sting a little without
making welts. Our backsides were pretty
tough anyway.
In the little I
inherited (other than stories) from my father there were two pipes, one of them
corncob. When I went to take a picture
of it I could not find it, but I will keep searching because I know I laid
hands on it six months ago.
