Letter To Uncle Zeke
Dear Uncle Zeke, Last night I was over to Harold Busby's place deliverin some seed when I come near to gettin my head busted in. Let me tell you what happened.
Might be you don't recollect as to who Harold Busby is. He is the science teacher down to the new high school. On the side, he is trying to run him a lettle farm.
Well, it seems he has been bothered a mite by foxes slippin in to his hen house and makin off with his prize pullets. So last night he was atryin to make off with some of his chickens. Directly I figgered I would pull old Harold's leg a bit, so, I up and told him it weren't no fox what was a gettin his hens a-tall. Naturally he wanted to know what it was that was a gettin his hens if it weren't no fox. So, I told him that the sawdust that he had on the floor of the hen house was a turnin into garter snakes in the middle of the night, eatin his hens, and turnin back into saw dust for mornin.
You can imagine what he said to me. He said that I was some kind of a blamed fool. Bout that time I suggested that what I said were no crazier than his a sayin that the dust of the ground turned into a tadpole, which turned into a snake, which later became a dog, which turned into a monkey and finally turned into a man. When I said that he turned redder than afire-place poker and commenced to pantin like a forge bellows. He said I was too ignorant to know anything about science and how l should keep my nose where it belongs. Then he run me off his place.
When I got out to the road I looked back to see what he was a doin. You know what? He hada handful of that sawdust in his hand and was a eye-ballin it somethin fierce. If he keeps actin like that, them foxes is goin to have a belly full of fresh hens for a long time to come.
You all write now when you get the chance. We shore did enjoy that nice letter you sent on Ma's birthday.
Yours truly,