March/April 1980
By the Mother Earth News editors
" Now is the time when men work quietly in the fields and women weep silently in the kitchen. The legislature is in session, and no man's property is safe . " Daniel Webster
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Well sir, early spring ain't never a partic'larly arid season in Barren County, but the past few weeks has been real world-beaters fer dampness. Fact is thet Lafe Higgins's geese've took to floatin' on they backs ev'ry once't in a while . . . jist so's their feet kin have a chance to unwrinkle!
O'course, the ol' loafers over to the Gen'ral Store ain't about to let a spate of inclement weather disrupt their proceedin's none. No sir, them fellers kin swap tall tales an' play pranks come fair days or foul. You could almost say thet they find a little bit of proddin' on the part of the elyments to be downright inspirin'.
Take last week, fer example. Ol' Newt Blanchard were warmin' up with a batch of welterweight lies when his monylogue was interrupted by Skeeter Ridges . . . who come runnin' in the front door all winded an' wheezin' like an eight-quart canner at full steam!
"You fellers ain't gonna believe this," Skeet began, "but I jist heered thet Fletcher Roebuck's boy, Clovis, is fixin' to treat all the young'uns in the Crossin' to an Easter egg roll over to the town hall square come Thursday next."
"Why," Newt responded, "don't thet little politickin' weasel know the river's up an' over its banks an' the square is neck-deep in water? Shucks, Ott here's been settin' a trot-line off'n the bandstand fer two days now . . . claims he's hauled in some pretty good catfish, too! "
"I don't reckon Clovis is aware of what the weather's doin' ennywhere but in the state capital," Purvis Jacobs opined. "In point of fact, I got my doubts thet he even sees the outa-doors there . . . 'ceptin' whilst he's goin' to er from a saloon fer one of them high- rollin' political lunches."
"Do you figure of Clovis aims to snag hisself a few votes by throwin' an Easter shindig?" Lem Tucker wanted to know.
"I'd of thunk he'd pretty much given up on the Crossin' by now," Doc said. "After all, when he got hisself elected last time around, he didn't draw but one vote from here . . . even though him an' his momma went down to the polls together! "
"I recall thet," Ott chuckled. "Clovis ain't never fergived her fer not backin' him, neither . . . 'specially since nobody were runnin' agin' him at the time!"
"The way I hear it," Skeeter said, "the boy's got hisself some pretty stiff compytition this time around. It seems of Isaac Pike-the fur buyer from over to Blight Holler-has decided to take a crack at unseatin' him! "
"I know thet Ike feller well enough," chimed in young Billy Parsons. "Time was I sold my muskrat pelts to him . . . least-wise I did till I found out he was payin' me a dime on the dollar less'n ennybody else in the state were givin'. The man is a real champeen crook, from all accounts. Punk Craw has it thet of man Pike used to perfume polecat hides . . . called 'em 'striped mink' an' tried to peddle 'em to city folks what didn't know enny better! "
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