In many "good ole times" an old image -- shared sharply nightly etches -- the mule furrowed longer and longer and deeper and deeper as the canes squeezed the nectar -- the bees busied cane juice and the sugar ladens -- men and boys played together on down the tales as the daylight came up upon the night -- not before long syrup was there -- the village could rejoice -- there were good times coming -- it was a good Georgia familiar common doings! The whole scene was a real drama of mellow -- almost nearing Providence in the mulberry orchard -- nearly justification and consummate and please, suh, yeh!