Lewisburg chronicle. [volume] (Lewisburg, Pa.) 1850-1859, 1858-05-07
A Bull. Backing Adventure.

| loafing, ignorant, drinking, chewing, hunt
ing, lazy, yet shrewd "poor white trash Of
that region These sketches are very
coarse, and many Of them would be pro-
nounced unfit for print in the North, but
they seem to be well adapted to the South
ern taste. In truth, judging from those
most popular Southern authors-DaVid
Crocket, "Georgia Scenes" Major Jones
of Pinevile, and our "Sut'-chaste and
delicate humor are not among the "do-
mestic institutions" or native literature IN
that quarter, while broad, practical, rough
"fun" can have no restraints upon 1t, and
the more gross the better.-The annexed
specimen is the most readable, truth-like,
and laugable of the "yarns" retailed by
"Sut" to his friend "George."l
l had got about fox squirrill skin ful!
ov billed corn juice onder my shirt, an wur
aimin fur Bill Kar's on foot, an when |
got in site owe ole Burns's, | seed nj onto
! fifty hosses an mules hiched onto his fence.
1t wur Sicily's weddin. She married
Clapshaw, the sukit rider. Now ole
Burns he'd big black and white bull,
with ring in bis nose. an the rope tied
up round his horns. They rid i'm tu mill
and sich like with saddil made outen
dog forks and clappoards, an kivered
with ole carpit, rope girth and stirrup-
lethers, with loop fur the foot. cole
Sock" es they called him, he'd jist got
back frum mill, an wur turnd inter the
yard, saddil an all, tu pick grass. | wur
slurgin rouu too, outside the house, fur
they hedent axed me in when they sot
down tu eat Sock nosed roun till he
foun big baskit what hilt little shat
tered corn, an he put in his he'd tu git it.
l slipped up and jerked the handil over
his hons. Now, George, du yu no the ma
tur ov COW brute? Theys the durndest
fools ov all the beastes, fur when they gifts
inter tribulashun they nos nuthin but to
shut thur eyes, beller, an back an keep a
JacAin. Well, when ole Sock found his
sef in darkness when he raised his he'd,
be made wun lunge agin the house, that
shook the daubin out, then he fotch bel
ler mout been hearn mile, an then sot
inter an onendin sistim ov Jdckin. A
his -.u ssh rrnr nopha- Fust aoin NUN
thing, then over anuther, among which
wus the bee bench, an dozen stands ov
bees. This knokin down thar bench,
fotch out all the bees fitin mad 1; the
whole ar wur full ov em, redy tu pich in
ter enything what moved. The hOus sOt
onter slopin groun, an the yard doro wer
even with it; so Sock jist backed in onder
bubble he'd ov steme, BLOWN and a
bawlin, an the ledcr ov the biggest army
ov bees ever seed out at wUn time; they
filled the baskit, they lodged onto his tale
till it wur es thick es waggin tung, an
strate up in the ar at that, lookin sorter
like ded pine kivered with ivy. They
wur in fact all over i'm, an at work with
all thar mites, maxim i'm feel good an
hot an improvin his temper mitely. Ov
all the durnd times ye ever hcarn tell ov,
wur thar, and tharabouts. lie cum tale
fust agin the ole two story Dutch clock
an fotch it, busting the innards outen it;
the leetle wheels were oil over the fore.
Next pass he fotch up agin the foot ov
big dubbil engine bedsted, an rarcd it on
to aind an punchin wun ov the posts thru
the glass winder. The next tail fust ex-
perdition wur agin katakornered cup
bord, what soon kotch durnation. He
smashed the glass dores in, upsetin it, an
then stomped everything inter the shelves
all tu giblets, tryin tu back further in
that derecshun. pickil krocks, presarve
jars, vinegar jugs, seed bags, yarb bunch
es, paragorick bottils, aig baskits, an delf
were all mixd pcrmiskusly, an not wuth
sortin by about doller and an alf. Next
he got fair back across the rune agin
the board pertishun he went thru like it
he'd been paper, an tuck about six feet
squar of it in splinters an skraps with i'm
inter the rune whar they wur eatin.
An now the fitit ov bees, an dancin, an
dodgin begun. Clapshaw's nam wer es
deaf es dogiron, an sot at the aind ov
the tabil mex tu whar Sock busted thru
the wall tail aind on he cum agin her
cheer, histin her an it onto the tabil
Now the squawkin an cussin an the smash
in of things, an mixin ov vittils begun.
They had sot several tabils tugether tu
make it long enuf, SO he jist rolled en- up
a top ov one another an thar sot ole Miss
is Clapshaw straddle ov the pile, a fitin
bees like onto mad windmill, with her
caliker cap in wun hand fur wepun, an
a cruet frame in luther an kickin like
she wur riding e lazy boss arter doctor.
Taturs, cabidge, meat, supe, sop, dump
Inns an the truck ye waller EN- in, milk,
plates, pics an every durn ixin yu cud
think ov in week, wer thar mixed an
mashed like it he'd been thru a thrashin
masheen. Old Sock still KEEP a backin,
an backed the hole pile, ole oman an all, !