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Show rr ALL DUNN iVVf ""l by Roy Dunn Howdy folks. What was it I was gonna tell you when I run outta space, week before last? Oh yes, my Uncle Sylvester, Syl-vester, down on the Pecker-wood Pecker-wood Lake, in Arkansaw. Like I said before, he sure could keep Aunt Ellie Mae busy, trying to keep him from getting hisself killed. He could just stand still and get into a mess of trouble. Seems like trouble was alius lookin' for him, and that's the way it was when he got tangled up with the calves. Maybe I better start at the beginning, 'cause it was like this: It was in the spring of the year, and "Pansy", (that was the cow they kept to furnish fur-nish milk for the table) had twin calves, the cutest you ever did see. Aunt Ellie Mae was as proud of them calves as a new pair of red shoes. You know your own self that a cow hardly ever has more than one calf. Anybody knows that. After Aunt Ellie would finish fin-ish milking Pansy, she'd alius tell Sylvester to go get the calve and turn them in the lot so they could get the milk that was left in Pansy's bag. Ellie alius left some for them and all the time she was milking, them fool calves would be over there, bawling their heads off. This sorta made Pansy kinda nervous ner-vous too. how high can you hold up your head? Not very much, I can tell you. Try it sometime. I tell you filks, when Uncle Sylvester's chin ploughed through them piles, it was somethin' to see, it was sorta like, well, did you ever watch the bow of a boat as it split the water, goin' at high speed? His long beard trailed in the wake, sorta like seaweed will trail in the wake of a boat. If he managed to miss a pile with his chin, the bib of his overalls would scoop it up and cram it down inside, real tight, 'till it came out the legs where his boots was. Some of it went in the boots. 'Course them calves come to a screeching halt when they got to their mama, and they started nuzzlin' their mama's bag, with their tails still goin' 'round and 'round. I don't think them calves knowed they cause Sylvester any misery. They was just hungry and I reckon they had a one-track mind. But he did'nt stop to figure if them calves meant him any harm. Fact is, he counldn't even think. He was that mad. When he got up on his feet, I never did see anything like he looked in all my borned days. I alius liked Uncle Sylvester, Syl-vester, but I'd have traded him off right then for almost anything. There he was, a to- Sylvester had a calf tied on each end of a long rope, then he would tie the middle of the rope to an iron stake. Them calves sure could get all tangled tan-gled up in that rope, but generally, gen-erally, Uncle Sylvester had a lot of patience with them. Well anyway, Sylvester went over there that day to get the calves. He took the rope off the stake and put it over his head and around his middle, holding with each hand, the rope which tal, absolute mess. I'll never forget it, him standin' there the stuff still drippin' from his chin, and ever once in awhile, a gob would fall outta his pants leg. His little-bitty black eyes was fairly throwin' sparks, you could almost see. And he was makin' funny noises in his throat like he couldn't talk, but he finally got it out. "Where's the axe? I'm gonna gon-na kill them calves!" Aunt Ellie Mae counldn't hardly talk for laughin', and that made him' just that much madder, but she warn't afraid of him. She just handed him a bar of lye soap and pointed toward to-ward the creek. had a calf at each end. You should'a seen them calves take off when they knowed the rope was loose and they could go to their mama. They laid back their ears, and with their tails stickin' straight up and wavin' 'round and 'round- like a flag of victory, they was runnin', lickety-split toward their mama which was bawlin' for them. With the middle of that rope around his belt line, Sylester counld'nt hardley do nothin' else but take steps about six feet long, tryin' to keep up with them darn-fool calves, without fallin' down, but he fell down. : He couldn't get that blamed j. rope out from under his arms. !' He was just sorta drug along on his belly across the slick, green grass and there warn't ' much he could do about it 'cept cuss them calves and yell. It wouldn't have been so bad if it wasn't for all them piles of cow-piles, all over that stretch between them calves and their mama. I bet there wasn't a square yard of that pasture that didn't have at least one of these big piles, and there was lots of square yards. Well, like I said, Uncle Sylvester Syl-vester had a long beard, and as he sailed along, about forty miles an hour, he held up his head as high as he could, to save his beard I reckon. But it warn't no use. Did you ever j lay on your belly and try to see That creek was about a quarter quar-ter of a mile below the house, but we could hear him, clear up to the house, a'cussin and a'ravin. I could hear him cus-sin cus-sin all the calves that was ever born and all them that's gonna be born 'till judgement day. I tell you, he was one mad Indian. In-dian. He never showed up 'till the fourth day, and when he did; he had got his hair cut and his beard shaved off; the first time I ever did see him, bare faced. He had on new overalls, shirts, boots and hat. I reckon he had new socks and drawers too, but I couldn't see them. I reckon that's the frist time Old Lead, (that was our hound dog) ever did see him bare faced too, 'cause he come runnin' run-nin' out from under the house and he bit Sylvester, right there. I don't think Uncle Sylvester Syl-vester should'da got so dad-blamed dad-blamed mad at Old Lead, 'cause that dog just plain didn't recognize him, besides, he didn't take kindly to stangers. Sylve s t e r should'da knowed that. But he never did like that dog after that and I think he started figurin' right then how (continued on facing page) ALL DUNN (continued from facing page) he could kill Old Lead. And he done it too, about six months after that. Leastwise I alius figured he did, but Ellie Mae said it was just a plain accident. acci-dent. Ya'see, it was like this when Old Lead died. We was down on the White River . Dad-blame it, I've run outta space again. I reckon I'll just have to wait to some other time, to tell you how Old Lead got hisself killed. It wouldn't happen again in a million years, but that dog was kinda dumb sometimes. But I still think that Uncle Sylvester planned it all from the start, but maybe he didn't, I dunno. SEE YA'ALL LATER |