Mumbley peg was an art form from my youth. Long before Jethro Gibbs rule #9 all the boys I knew didn’t leave home without a pocket knife and a bag of marbles. I still have a cigar box full of Aggies, catseyes, toothpaste and Oxbloods. We played marbles and Mumbley peg for “keepsies”.
We also used to carry our shotguns to elementary school on the bus, leave them in the coatroom during class and then walk home after school, locked and loaded for dove hunting.
My son will never know the freedoms or the joys of being a boy I once enjoyed. The kids today play Mario and Pokémon on their tablets. The world has changed.
Sad, innit?
Last I looked, Dad still keeps his Daisy BB on the back porch for stray cats. (Nobody likes fresh pawprints on a newly washed car or strewn baby rabbit guts after watching them grow all Spring.) As for popping the offender while it’s lazing on top of your car - oops, that Daisy shoots left!
Thanks, BTW, as I hadn’t a clue how mumblety-peg was played!