was, or which way he was goin'. He was a mighty
good-hearted man, but that jug was his besettin' sin.

"Well, one evenin' he was comin' home the usual way, him and the jug,
and he got to the creek and concluded he'd git off his horse and lay
down and take a little nap. Some o' the women folks in that
neighborhood had been doin' their washin' that day, and there was a
big iron kittle on the bank set up on some stones where they'd b'iled
their clothes. Old man Sam laid down by the kittle and went to sleep.
Pretty soon he got awake and set up and rubbed his eyes, and took
notice of the kittle, and says he,

"'Have I crossed this creek or not?' says he. 'It appears to me like
I've seen this kittle before, but whether it was on this side o' the
creek or the other, to save my life I can't tell.'

"Then he studied a while and says he,

"'Well, I'll give myself the benefit of the doubt.' So he crossed the
creek, got off his horse and set down in the shade, and took a drink
out o' the jug and fell asleep again. After a while he woke up and
looked around, and says he: 'Here I am again, and here's the creek,
and yonder's that old kittle jest as natural as life. But what I want
to know is, am I agoin' to town, or am I comin' back home?' And he
looked at the sun, and says he, 'Judgin' by the way that sun looks, it
might be nine o'clock in the mornin', and it might be three o'clock
in the evenin'; and not bein' a Solomon I ain't able to decide which
it is, but I'll take my chances and go across the creek.'

"So across the creek he went, took another drink, and laid down and
fell asleep right by the kittle. Pretty soon he woke up the third
time, and says he: 'Well, if here ain't that old kittle again! Howdy,
Mr. Kittle! Can you tell me which way I'm goin', and whether it's
mornin' or evenin'?'

"Well, the kittle didn't answer; and the old man set there and thought
a while, and then he crossed the creek and took another drink and
another nap, and crossed again, and there was the same old kittle, and
he looked at it and give it a kick, and says he: 'I never saw as many
blame kittles in all my life as I've seen to-day. I reckon this must
be Kittle Creek.'"

Aunt Jane paused to join in my laughter.

"I always thought it was a shame to laugh at a poor drunkard," she
resumed, "but old man Sam told the Kittle Creek story on himself. I
don't reckon he thought he was changin' the name of Clear Fork Creek,
but from that time on nobod