The Ecphorizer
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Old Man Simpson could be frightful at times;
he didn't talk much, when he did, he stuttered, not a little, so bad you'd get restless listening. When he got excited, especially talking about history and stuff like that, his voice would guggle like some waterfall. Folks say he wasn't always like that. He could be standing behind you when you were snipin' squirrels and you not know how long he'd been there. Old timers said he useta copy the wind walking through the woods, as if the wind was his brother— learned it in the War. None of us kids knew where his home was, not exactly that is; I heard tell some boys followed him a few times, Saturday nights after he bought groceries. He was always able to lose them, (so they say) I think they were afraid of him: he might change into a troll or some creature with scales all over his body, jump out from behind some bush and cut off their heads with the big knife he carried, or worse, cook 'em so's their skins would sizzle like rabbits' cookin' over a fire. He did a lot of things unexpected, but one thing you knew he'd do: Saturday nights, before he disappeared in the woods with his green sack over his shoulder, he'd limp around the light pole three times, hobble away singing, When Johnny Comes Marching Home. LARRY E. SMITH was raised in Missouri. Besides poetry, he writes popular music. His most recent was "Bring Bubba Back," a song about a purloined peccary. He writes us that it 'lasted one week on one South Texas radio station." More Articles by Larry E. Smith |
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