White Mule, Cawn Likker, Shine, Moon, et al. Regardless of alias this sequence simply means the raw, new, colorless, distilled product of fermented corn mash, sugar and water. If well made, of decent materials in a proper still, with the fusel oil rectified out, and aged in wood it starts to be whisky after not less than four years in the wood of charred oak casks.
None of the manufacturers of bourbons should any right to call any corn whisky “bourbon” until it has aged at least four or five years, but the demand so exceeded supply that all rules were off.
As far as corn likker goes, whether it sis made in a copper wash boiler, run through an old shotgun barrel, and a length of iron pipe into a galvanized washtub covered with a cotton blanket. It can be drunk straight, with water, with juices and disguises. It can be scalding hot on chilly October evening with cloves, brown sugar, and lemon peel.
A stranger came once from Virginia to these hills of Western North Carolina to a house of one of these kinfolks and announced to one of the hillbilly that he was a brother-in-law.
“You are?” asked the hillbilly.
“I am” said the Virginian
“Can your wife tell through a brick wall twenty feet thick if you have had a drink of liquor?” inquired the hillbilly.
“She can.”
“Can she tell it two days later?”
“She can.”
The hillbilly shouted with wild laughter. “You’re my brother-in-law all right,” said he. Then reaching into a meal bin he pulled out a jug.
“Help yourself, brother,” he said. “Just help yourself!”
Several individuals who conceived themselves expert in the management of the gun here in the mountains of Western North Carolina, were often seen to meet for the purpose of displaying their skill and betting a trifling sum, put up a target, in the center of which a common sized nail is hammered for about two thirds of its length. The marksmen made a choice of what they considered a proper distance, which could be forty paces. Each man cleaned the interior of his tube, which was called wiping it, placed a ball in the palm of his hand, poured as much powder from his horn upon it as would cover it. This quantity was supposed to be sufficient for any distance within a hundred yards. A shot which came very close to the nail was considered as that of an indifferent marksman; the bending of the nail was, of course, somewhat better; but nothing less than hitting it right on the head was satisfactory. One out of three shots generally hit the nail and should the number of shooters amounted to half a dozen, two nails were frequently needed before each could have a shot. Those who drove the nails had a further trail amongst themselves and the two best shots out of these generally settled the affair, when all the sportsmen adjourned to some house, and spend an hour or two in friendly intercourse, appointing before they part, a day for another trial. This was technically terming driving the nail.
With ghosts and witches and talking animals folk tales step from the adults’ porch or parlor into the nursery. Although children’s folk and fairy tales are typically told for amusement during leisure hours, one occasionally hears of their being used, like songs, to accompany the labor of many hands and, like the hands, make like work.
The North Carolina versions of the Jack tales have still another practical relation to Southern life. In their portrayal of Jack as a typical easy going, unpretentious mountain boy as well as in their use of the mountain vernacular, the Jack tales are excellent examples of the adaptation of the Old World folk tales to Southern settings and folkways, a kin to the democratization and localization of British ballads.
In the Jack tales, too, knight-errantry and chivalry survive on a democratic and popular level. The persistent appeal of the Jack tales to the Southern folk rests not simply on their appeal to children but also on the appeal of the ever triumphant Jack as a symbol of the bottom rail on top. As a trickster hero who overcomes through quick wit and cunning rather than by physical force, Jack belongs with Brer Rabbit and Old John. Symbolic of the dreams, desires, ambitions and experiences of the heads of these little fellers may touch the clouds.
Blue Waters Mountain Lodge on Lake Santeetlah is a destination in one of the most beautiful areas in this part of the world. We are situated on a paved road with easy access for motorcyclists. Just minutes from the Lodge there are hundreds of miles of beautiful mountain roads with views you’ll never forget. Ask us for ideas on where to go for a ride.
White Mule, Cawn Likker, Shine, Moon, et al. Regardless of alias this sequence simply means the raw, new, colorless, distilled product of fermented corn mash, sugar and water. If well made, of decent materials in a proper still, with the fusel oil rectified out, and aged in wood it starts to be whisky after not less than four years in the wood of charred oak casks.
