The only time I ran across a mulberry tree was when I as down in Arkansas in the Ozarks. It was by a hillbillie’s log cabin; not the tv type of hillbilly- Ebby was the genuine article living in the log cabin his parents had built with flattened tin cans used for roof shingles. He would sit on his porch whittling away on a piece of wood and when you would ask him what he was making, he would say “Dem things”, pointing down at the shavings on the ground. He also made “white lightning”, otherwise known as “moonshine”. At dusk lightning bugs would fly up by the mulberry tree and you could watch them from Ebby’s porch as he sat whittling away, making “Dem things”.