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I can ‘memorate ‘thout too much trouble about the
time this little girl come to visit on the ranch. Oh, Alphonse
Wilson here, don’t you see…
Yessir, she was just a tad, mebbe three years old. Couldn’t say for
sure. Didn’t check her teeth. Lived up in the city and was seeing
what it was like to be around horses and cows and barns and stuff
made out of cowhide.
Wellsir, she asked to use the bathroom and we pointed her toward the
local outhouse. Her mom had to take her over and explain how it was
used, and that little thing couldn’t get over it! Nossir! For the
whole rest of the day she kept saying, “You don’t have to flush it!”
She thought it was the best intervention since Edison designed the
airplane.
Well … maybe it is. Oh, most people have the plumbing inside the
house these days, and I ‘spose that’s as it should be … but don’t
sell the outhouse short.
Even politicians recognize the importance of the little house out
back. Just the other day they had one a-them bureaucraticals up in
front of a table full of politicians who accused him of being
contemporary with them and besides that tried to hang stealin’ sheep
on him. Sure enough, one of them asked him a question, and he
spectaclated it this way “Senator, I’m not privy to that
information.”
You see that? Even in Washington District of Columbus they recognize
the importance of the privy.
Well, I tell you what … let’s all bunch up and swear we’ll do
ever’thing necessary to keep on lovin’ the old outhouse. We could
start a club, even. Call it the Birch John Society or somethin’.
I’ll be the emperor or castigator or somethin’ and we’ll all have
effluviations of fun.
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‘Minds me though of the time up
in the mountains at that camp. Boss man thought he’d do somethin’
chic or elegant … you know … noo-vo? Wellsir, since it flats gets
cold up there, he lined the outhouse hole with fur. Had to take it
out, though, after that tourist lady got fleas. Hey, if I’m lyin’
you can dip my flag in baking powder and make it rise by its ownself.
But them fleabites don’t stop outhouses from being a good idear.
Nossir. And regulate this to your memorizer … you still don’t have
to flush!
.
[Text from file received from
Slim Randles]
Brought to you by the
panel of geniuses sipping coffee down at the Mule Barn, because they
didn’t have anything better to do.
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