The Missouri and Arkansas Ozarks share a lot besides the mountains that connect them. They are the only place I know, where a man could say, "Prices this year are enough to make a man wad his pliers." An Ozarker from either state would understand. Ozark farmers share a language and a sense of humor that has to do with the remote nature of the place they chose to call home. Towns are small, roads are steep and rugged, good tillable land is scarce, and getting a crop of any kind to market can be more of a battle than growing it. But the Ozark farmer likes where he lives and puts up with the inconvenience for the beauty of the mountains.

An old joke from the 1930s has an Arkansas mountaineer telling a county agent that while "them Missouri flatlanders can haul a wagonload of corn to the elevator over good roads, but us Arkansas folks has to turn it into whiskey and FIGHT it out to make a livin'. It looks like the givermint would give us some accommodation."

The fact that the Bootheel of Missouri sticks down into Arkansas cotton country is also the subject for humor; "My kids was well satisfied with Ma's cooking when we farmed at Doniphan," goes one man's joke, "but when we moved to Kennett they got that Arkansas urge to run down rabbits and eat 'em off a stick."

My favorite story about the difference between Arkansas and Missouri comes from Thayer, Mo., a town where the two states meet and the border is historically flexible. During the last days of the Civil War, bands from both sides raided the Ozarks, striking little towns and hiding out in the region's many caves and remote areas of big timber. One of these outlaws managed to shoot a man from Thayer and steal his horse, but the citizens formed a posse and rode him down. He was brought back to Thayer for trial before a judge who was famous for being as fair as anyone on the bench during those bad times.

"Now I'll tell you what I'm going to do here," the judge told the man. "The jury has found you guilty of the murder. Jurisdiction being a kind of no man's land between Missouri and Arkansas, I can offer you a choice. You can choose which state's law I sentence you by."

The condemned man thought about it and decided that Arkansas law would probably be more easygoing. "I'll take Arkansas law," he said.

All right," said his honor, "It is the decision of this court that you be fined $250 for the theft of the horse and be hanged for the murder of Jonas Smith."

"No wait!" said the outlaw, "I was nervous and said Arkansas by mistake. I meant Missouri law!"

Fine," said the judge, "you've made a good choice. I will change that sentence according to Missouri statutes. You will pay a $250 fine for the killing of Jonas Smith and be hanged for stealing his horse."