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A Neck Riddle And A Folktale by GOLDA A. SWAIN Golda (Adkins) Swain was born in the hills of eastern Kentucky some sixty-odd years ago to an English-Scottish mother and a Dutch-Irish father. She was reared on a mountain farm, married Melvin Swain of North Carolina and reared five children, educating them in the fields of medicine, mechanics, electronics, and business. A writer of poetry, short stories, and songs, her greatest love is folklore, legend, and nature articles. Her "How the Mystery Was solved" appeared in the Fall-Winter 1974-75 issue of Appalachian Heritage. Her folk material that follows are versions passed down in the mountains since "alius ago." She lives in Paintsville, Kentucky. Riddle This is a riddle my father related to me many years ago. The tale goes there was a woman who had committed a crime and was to be put to death, but for some reason she had been given a chance to save her life. She was told if she could make a riddle that no one could unriddle, they would spare her life. Her only companion through the long night vigil was her pet dog and it's name was Love. She had tried all night to think up a riddle. She looked at the sky and she could see dawn was near and still no riddle. Then the riddle came to her as little Love, her only friend, licked her hand for the last time. She killed die little dog, placed a piece of its flesh beneath her toe nails, and under the nails of her right fingers. She also stitched a fragment in the seat of her cloak. Now she was ready to face tile crowd and give them the riddle. As the sun came up they led her out and seated her on the bench and asked her, "Do you have a riddle?" "Yes," she said, "I do, and here is the riddle: Love I sit (she rose to her feet). Love I stand (she clinched her right hand stretching it forth). Love I hold in my right hand." But no one could answer the riddle, so they set her free and she told them the answer, and showed them the flesh of the little dog. So dog is man's best friend for her dog was not only her friend but also gave his life that she might live. This tale, riddle or legend what ever to my knowledge is over a hundred years old. A Visit To The Cemetery October seemed to come early this year. October is the month that a. great Before we knew it September had slipped change takes place in our hills after the away. Did you ever stop and gaze up into first nippy, visit from Jack Frost. Trees, the blue of an October sky? If you haven't shrubs and vines change their color. They you sure have missed something rare; for go from green to many bright gay colors the blue of October skies is a different of reds, russets, golds, wines, yellows, scarcolor of blue than any other month of the lets and browns, year. It seems the hills try to hold the warmth 15 of summer by dressing in these gay plaid colors. The sun in October is warm but the nights are chilly. When you're walking on a moonlight night in October, it's hard to believe that some of the nights in October could be so chilly, dark and starless, but they are. I guess that is why many ghost stories are related to the month of October. And October is Halloween time, and the witches, gobblins and just plain boogie men are heard, seen and felt, prowling through the hills, and especially, in the cemeteries; as you know ghosts are believed to walk about on a dark moonless night or during a heavy thunder storm. Now the tale I'm about to tell happened on a chilly, dark night long, long ago, in October. Yes, on this night, many years ago, skull duggery was abroad;" the good people of the neighborhood were asleep in their homes. Some very close to where this...

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