<TITLE>04. Par 14-17</TITLE>L-14 So many things I could say, but I'd say, "God bless you all." I think that's the greatest word can be... If God will bless me, that's all I want. Is that right? If God will bless me, that's--that's enough. That's all I care for.
Now, I don't want my time to get away. I'm to preach this afternoon a little bit, or--or talk. I'm not a preacher. I'm just... As I told you the other day, I'm a spare tire. That's when you have a flat, you know, you use it. Now, we haven't got a flat now, but we... but I'm just one they put on the spare this afternoon.
I remember as a little thing I usually tell to the people about being a preacher reminds me. My mother's here. She can put her finger in her ears now. My daddy was a rider. He was a good one too, and he used to ride. And he was a good shot. He'd take guns and throw them big clay marbles out and take one gun and hit another marble and raise it up and burst the marble with the other. Why, I couldn't hit washtubs like that, but he--but he was good, and I always wanted to be like my daddy.

L-15 So I remember when we was kids and used to plow, and I--I could hear Mama when she called me. And she... the only thing I hear was a "iam" you know. "William." I'd get that way back in the back of the place, you know. I'd take my old, straw hat and wave and take them old rope lines. How many ever plow with old rope lines? Let's see. Well, there's a few country boys setting around here. Yes, sir. The old rope lines, take it off my neck, you know and go on in for dinner.
Now, I remember after we'd plowed all day long, you know, and oh, it would be tired. That night time when we come in, well, dad would still be in the field. I had to come in early, 'cause I milked the old cow. So we'd get around. I'd go down to the watering trough. Anybody ever know what a watering trough is, where there horses will water? Oh, now I'm getting down home, ain't I? All right.

L-16 I'd go down there, you know, and I'd--I'd... My brothers and all of them would get there and watch me, you know, and I'd come in and get around behind the hill from the house; I'd go in and get pop's saddle, you know, and I'd get me a handful of cockleburs and throw it up under the saddle and pull the saddle down on the old horse, you know, and climb upon him.
Poor old thing, so tired and old too, you know, and stiff, he couldn't even get his feet off the ground. He'd just bawl, you know. I'd take off this hat, you know, and I was a real cowboy, a riding, you know, and all my brothers would set up there and cheer me, you know. I was a real cowboy.
About nineteen years old, I run off from home. Mama hasn't whipped me enough for that yet. So I run off from home and went out west. I was going to be a rider. I was going to have the silver saddle, Brother Osborn. You know what I'm talking about.

L-17 So then I was--went out west, and went to Arizona, and they was having a rodeo. I said, "I'm... I need some money." And I went down to get me a pair of Levi's and got out there, and I thought, "I'll ride. These fellows out here don't know no more about riding than I do."
So I get up on the--the fence around the--where they was having the rodeo. And the first thing you know they let the horses out and the bucking horses, and they had one there that was famous horse. They said, "Now, any guy can ride this horse..."


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