“Hot?
You boys think this here weather is hot? You jest don’t know, do
you?”
“What do you mean, Windy?” said Doc.
“Wellsir, back in the old days, you know, when we was younger, there
came upon us here in the valley a hot-em-up wave that tried to kill
us. Your folks ever tell you ‘bout the wreck at the river with me
and Old Man Jenkins?”
Didn’t look like anyone had.
“Pass that syrup over, will ya, Steve? Thanks. Well, the hot-em-up
started off slow, you know they do that sometimes. Little stuff like
burnin’ up your hands jest grabbin’ a brandin’ arn.”
“Well, sure,” Doc said, “if you’re dumb enough to
grab a branding iron, you’re going to get burnt.”
“This here was the handle of the brandin’ arn, Doc, not the part in
the fire.”
“Oh, I see. You were wearing gloves though, right?”
“Couldn’t stand to have them on. Too hot. And sweat? Never saw
nothin’ like it.
Old Man Jenkins sweated so much his boots filled up with sweat and
it cooked his toes to a perfect parbroiled brown.” [to top of second
column] |
“Did he eat them, Windy?”
“Naw. We had plenty of mountain oysters around, you know how it is,
and he said he hadn’t had a shower in a while, so they probably
wouldn’t taste that good anyway. So he kept them.”
“They didn’t fall off?”
“They thought ‘bout fallin’ off. Thassa fact. But sometimes ol’ Mama
Nature knows how to help an ol’ cowboy. Yessir, thass what saved
Jenkins’ toes. Had a terrible freeze that night and jest froze them
toes back in place.”
Nature, and Windy’s stories, sometimes defy history.
[Text from file received from
Slim Randles]
The finest leatherwork items and art in the country. Check it out at
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