THE CAT IN THE CRACKLINGS

Jenny liked it when they made soap. If they butchered a pig in the fall, they made soap in the spring from the cracklings. They were the crisp bits that remained of the fat after it had been rendered into lard. They were stored in stone crocks in the pantry.

When it was time to make soap, Daddy would get the big black cast iron cattle from Aunt Ada or Aunt Frances and put it on a pile of wood southwest of the chicken house. Into the kettle would go the cracklings, cans of lye, and buckets and buckets of water. The fire was started and kept burning. The mixture would be boiled and stirred with a big wooden paddle for what seemed to be hours, until all that remained was a thick light brown residue at the bottom of the kettle. It made the whole outdoors smelled like wash day. Mother used the strong home made lye soap for laundry and cleaning purposes. It removed paint, made the hands wrinkle and the clothing fade, but it got out the dirt.

Mother and Daddy had been working with the soap that afternoon in early spring when Margaret got home from school. She was overjoyed that they were making soap.

“Let me stir,” she begged. Mother said she’d better not, because if she splashed any on herself, she would get a terrible burn.

“There won’t be as much soap this year because of that old cat that got into the cracklings,” Mother complained.

“The cat in the cracklings. The cat in the cracklings.,” Jenny sang over and over again, because she liked the sound of the words.

One night last winter, a hungry stray tom cat had wriggled through a hole in the pantry screen and helped himself to the cracklings in the large pot, depleting the supply considerably. Mother discovered him early in the morning and cuffed him briskly and soundly and sent him on his way.

The stuff in the kettle was getting thick now as they let it cool. It looked like brown sugar frosting or perhaps maple fudge. Daddy said they had to wait a while until it was just cool enough to cut, but not too long, or it would break into pieces. There happened to be a saw horse nearby. Daddy picked up a wide plank from a pile of boards and placed it over the saw horse. He and Jenny got on one end and Mother and Margaret got on the other.

“Whee,” said Mother,and Jenny and Margaret giggled happily. Jenny wished they could do this forever. It was a rare treat for Mother and Daddy to do something like this. Jenny wished that grown-ups weren’t always so busy, but that’s the way it was. All too soon the soap was just right for cutting. Daddy took a huge curved knife and cut the soap into wedge shaped pieces. He took out one piece and said it would make good soap. He put boards over the kettle to keep it clean and said they would take it to the cave in the morning.

Mother and Daddy busied themselves with the evening chores. Margaret romped with the dog. Jenny danced around the yard singing, “The cat in the cracklings. The cat in the cracklings.”