Date:         Tue, 18 Feb 1997 06:07:00 -0500
From: Rqymond McDowell
              <Raymond.McDowell@BMHKG-01.SMJARDIN.LANGATE.SPRINT.COM>
Subject:      INT: Hillbilly Haven

         Bertha Mae grabbed that city slicker by his hand and they
         went a'flouncin' out the door o' the General Store an' down
         the street. I figgered as Mayor, Chief Proprietor o' the
         General Store an' head o' the local Kommunity Kleanin' Klub,
         it wuz my dooty t' go after 'em an' make sure they din't git
         into any mischief.  So's I turned over the sign in the
         winder that says "I Ain't Chere, Come Back When I Am" an'
         went off after 'em.

         I couldn't he'p but feel sorry for Hound Dog Murdoch an'
         Moutain Goat Sims when they saw the lovey dovey couple
         walkin' down the street arm in arm and the ways Bertha Mae
         kept lookin' down at the slicker all mooney-eyed. Those boys
         stopped wollapin' each other an' just stood there like they
         was caught by ol' Rev. Claudpepper hisself.  Then ol' Hound
         Dog's lower lip started trembin' and a tear done run down
         his cheek. I swear, I think that boy is really in luv with
         Bertha Mae. Mountain Goat jes' kinda glared at 'em real hard
         like, then kicked at the dirt and headed off towards his
         still in the back o' the dry goods store.

         Bertha Mae din't pay no mind to that, though. Her eyes was
         glued on that salesman like they wasn't another man on the
         face o' the earth. An' he was preenin' like a pet rooster
         with his skinny neck all stuck out an' his mouth runnin'
         like a motor, tellin' that girl 'bout all the places he'd
         been an' all the thangs he done done.

         I couldn't he'p but shake my haid in riteous consternation.
         I'd seen his type b'fore, back in '61 when I went to the
         county fair and seed the goat races an' the cotton candy an'
         the ferris wheel an' such. It 'twere a regular Sodom and
         Gommora, I swear it was.  An' this here salesman looked like
         he stepped right on outta one o' them stands where's they
         was havin' them shootin' plastic ducks an' throwin' rocks at
         bowlin' pins. He coulda been one o' them fancy Dans hisself.

         Then it struck me. I knowed they was somethin' funny 'bout
         this slicker. Why, he was sayin' he was a salesman an' such.
         But if'n he was a salesman, whar was his case o' samples?
         'Twern't none aroun' t' be seen.

         'Twas 'bout this time we done made it to the Pidgon home,
         just in time to see Pa Pidgon totin' some water up from the
         creek with a big possum-eatin' grin on his face.

         "Bertha Mae, yer jus' in time t' hep yer Momma an' Diasy Mae
         out back with the new wringer washin' machine."

         As much as I wanted to see this new-fangled contraption Pa
         Pidgon was braggin' on, I held back an' hid behind a
         cottonwood tree. They was a right pow'rful mystery bout this
         here city slicker an' I figgered it was my sworn duty to
         find out about it.

         So I high-tailed it outta thar and made a straight line over
         to Li'l Brick's house.

         Rqy
         http://www.hk.super.net/~kenjoe/
         (click on the button on the upper right hand corner that
         says "Rays Page")