The Hartford herald. [volume] (Hartford, Ky.) 1875-1926, 1908-01-15


T.-As there seems to be nothin.
alive about your place but children,
how do you do, anyhow?
s.-Putty well, thank yer; how
do you do yourself?
Tt mean what do you do for
living?
S.---Keep tavern and sell whlskey.
T.-Well, told you l wanted some
whiskey.
S.-Stranger, bought bar'l morn
week ago. You see, me and Sal
went shares. After We got it here
we only had bit between us, and
Sal she didn't want to use hern fust,
nor me mine. You see, / had spiggin
in one eend, and she in t'other. So
she takes a drink out'n my eend, and
pays me the bit for it; then I'd take
one out'n hern, and give her a bit.
Well, we's getting along fust rate till
Dick, durn skulking skunk, he bourn
hole at the bottom to suck at, and
the next time l went to buy a drink
thar wurnt none thar.
Tim sorry your whiskey's all
gone; but, my friend, why don't you
play the balance of that tune?
SITS got no balance to 1t.
TT mean you don't play the whole
of 1t.
S.-Stranger, can you play the fid-
dull:
T.-Yes, little, sometimes.
S.-You don't look like a fiddlur,
but eff you think you can play any
more on that thar tune, you can
jist git down and try.
(The traveller gets down and plays
the whole of it,
S.-Stranger, take a half dozen
cheers and sot down. Sal, stir your
self round like a six-horse team in a
mud hole. Go round in the holler
whar I killed that buck this mornin',
cut off some of the best pieces, and
fotch it and cook 1t for me and this
gentleman directly. Raise up the
board under the head of the bed, and
git the old black jug l hid from Dick
and give us some whiskey; | know
thar's some left yit. Til, drive ole
Bose out'n the bread-tray, then
climb up in the loft and git the rag
that's got the sugar tied in it. Dick,
carry the gentleman's boss round UNI
der the shed, give him some fodder
and corn; much as he kin eat.
Til-Dad, thar amt knives enough
for to sot the table.
S..-Whar's big butch, little butch,
ole case, cob-handle, grannys knife
and the one 1 borrored yesterday?
That's enough to sot any gentleman's
table, without you've lost um. Durn
me, stranger, eff you can't stay as
long as you please, and I'll give you
plenty to eat and to drink. VIII you
have coffee for supper?
T.-Yes, sir.
S.-lll be hanged if you do, tho,
we don't have nothin' to drink here,
but Grub Hyson, and | reckon it's
mighty good with sweetin'. Play away
stranger, you kin sleep on the dry
spot tonight.
T.-(After about 2 hours fiddlingD
My friend. can't you tell me about
the road I'm to travel tomorrow?
S.-To-mcrrow! Stranger, you
won't git outn these diggins for six
weeks. But when it gifts so you kin
start, you see that big slOo over thar?
Well, you have TO git crost that, then
you take the road up the bank, and in
about a mile you'll come to a two
corn patch. The corn's
mityly in the weeds. but you needn't
mind that, jist ride on. About mile
and a half or two miles from thar
you'll come to the damdest swamp you
ever struck in all your travels; it's
DOGGY enuff to mire a saddle-blanket.
Thar's fIst-rate road about six
feet under thar.
T.-How am l to get at it?
S.--You can't git at 1t nary time,
till the weather stiffens down sum.
Well. about a mile beyant, you come
to a place whar thar's no road. You
kin take the right hand ct you want
to; you'll foller it a mile or SO, and
then yon1l lind It's run out; you'll
then have to come back and try the
left; when you git about two miles
on that you may know you're wrong,
fur they amt any road thar. You'll
then think you're mighty lucky ef
you can find the way back to my
house, whar you kin cum an play on
that tune as long as you please. -
lies Angeles Herald.