Barbour County index. [volume] (Medicine Lodge, Kan.) 1880-current, 1888-06-20
IN A TIGHT PLACE.
The Story OF Nap Youngs Pos
sum Hunt-A Southern Sketch.

In the South the country people call the
drinking-saloon the grocery" Its gro
Gerry department usually consists Of cheese,
crackers, pspper-sauce and canned oysters.
These constitute the feasts that are served
when a generous indulgence in whisky has
sharpened the native appetite. One rustic,
after days drinking, eats at one sitting
three or four two-pound' cans Of "cove"
oysters, with crackers in proportion, after
which he reverts to "sperrets" with re-
newed energy, and "turns up" by the
roadside on his journey home at two o'clock
In the morning, having previously, with a
precaution strangely at variance with his
condition, hitched his horse TO a sapling
near by.
"You AK me how got this slryar on my
facep said Nap Young TO the Squire,
who was slipping Tom-and-Jerry with him
before the fire in the grocery back-room, on
q cold December evening "P'rhaps you
think got il in the war. WAL, / mought
NV got it then IL I'd been old ernuff: but ez 1
wern't, didn't. / never At in the war,
and ez truths one o. my strong pints, 1
never say got this slSyar then an thar"
"How did il git thar, thenp' asked the
Squire, as he ordered the mugs filed again.
Its er good I'm, certen, and spite your
beauty, If you ever had any ter spile."
continued, not noting the Squire's interrupt
ton, except to take a pull at his replenished
mug, "me an the Gleeson boys went pos
sum huntin'. They had two dogs an had
one. Mine wuz the best 'possum dog ever
seed-er bob-tailed, dark-yaller cur, with
black spots over his eyes. II wuz er frosty,
starlight night. We fust went to ole Humpy
Johnson's persimmon fell, but never start
ed nuthin'. Then we struck down through
the woods 70 the creek, and went up it. My
dog-Rup, / called him-struck er trail.
knowed it wuz him frum his bark; and
knowed it wuz er hot trail, fur he never
talked erbout no other kind. They all soon
commenced TO cry, and dreckly they freed.
ITS up one o. them paw-paw bushes by the
swimmin' hole, said Ike Gleeson. NO.
said /, it's up that little stumpy holly on
the creek bank, Jest fernent Bill Jarvis
cotton-patch.' And / wuz right. Thar
they wuz, rarin' up, runnin round, the
proudest dogs you ever seed. Ike started
TO chop down the tree. Hole on, Ike
says l.; don't do that; it'll fall in the creek,
share ez fate. Let me go up an fling i'm
down ermong the dogs AN right says
he. 1 shucked my coat an hat an shoes,
and skinned up quicker'n ightnin'. Thar
set mister 'possum, between two limbs,
lookin' down at me, ez much ez ter say;
Please let me erlone, haint done nuthin.'
" wish / had let i'm erlone. But / wuI
after 'possum meat then, an so cotch hole
NV er limb with my left ham, and tuck hole
Nv his tail with my right, and give i'm er
fling. That is, tried 10 give i'm er fling;
but ez fotch the jerk, the limb in my left
ham broke. / helt TO his tail, an we both
come tumbhn' down into the creek. The
dogs pitched right in on US. It's er bar,
yelled Ike, sick i'm, Rip, sick 'im, Tgei
Hole on, Pote,' he says TO his brother, an
I'll git er shot at i'm. All this time the dogs
wuz er woolin' me in the water like blazes.
Good God, Ilze,' Ishouted, don't shoot me-
but they made so much noise he couldn't
hear me. Thar he goes, up the creek
bankp Pete says to Ike-I wuz outen the
water now, an climbin' the bank with all
three Nv them dogs hangin' onter me; when
BANGl went Ilze's shotgun. Would you
b'leeve it, All three Of them dogs dropt
dead, and rolled behind er tree, not hit,
but badly bit an mighty nigh skeered to
keath. Air you crazy, Ikep screamed.
Good God'ermity, Nap, is it youi Air you
shotP No, / haint shot, but them dogs
come blame nigh eatin' me up
Thar wuz or hole clean through my left
han'-thar's the skyar now-my legs an
arms looked like err wild Injun had been
practicin' on 'em with his skelpin' knife,
and this here jaw wuz tore open frum the
lip to the ear. haint been possum huntin
sence."
"What become NV the 'possuml deferen-
italy queried the grocery keeper, who
had listened to the story"
Say, young feller," answered Nap,
"don't you wanter sell outl You're wastin'
yer tallunts here. You orter hang out yer
single an do bizness'-pointing to the
court-house-over thar. What become Nv
the 'possuml Who keered then what'd be-
come o. the 'possuml"
CHARLES S. BLACKBURN.