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~ TALES ~
FROM
THE OZARK HILLS

The place is a plank sided old store building at a mountain crossroads. It's cold outside, winter has set in, the harvest is through and the milking is done. A wood stove is glowing cherry red, doing its best to keep one step ahead of the wind coming in around the eaves. A group of "regulars" are gathered 'round the stove enjoying a slice of " hoop " cheese or a " chaw " of tobacco. Their laughter can be heard from a distance, as they all take a turn, telling a story or " arguing politics. " It's good simple fun. Just talk among friends. But if you've ever been there, you'll always cherish those days around the stove at the store, telling tales with friends.

Draw up a chair or nail keg and enjoy these tales from the Ozark mountains.

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IT'S THE CUSTOM

(First Appeared in The Douglas County Herold, November, 1983 issue.)

There is a story that is told about a man from Douglas { Booger } County. Many years ago he supposedly set up a still and operated a thriving business. It didn't take the revenuers long to get wind of it and they decided to catch him in the act.

One morning, this gentleman finished his morning chores and headed for his still. Sure enough, there were the government agents and he was arrested.

When he was sent to trial at Ava, the proceedings went something like this:

The prosecuting attorney ask him if he was at the still on the certain date he was arrested. He replied, "Yes sir. I heard somebody set one up on my land and I was going to try to find them and tell them to take it down."

The prosecuting attorney then asked, "Did you not walk up to the still and take your coat off and hang it on a limb?" "Yes sir. It was a hot day."

Then the prosecuting attorney then asked, "Did you not sit down right on a box of illegal whiskey?" The man said, "Yes sir. I was tired from the long walk."

The prosecuting attorey then had a gleam in his eye because he knew he had the man on his next question, "Tell us, if you are innocent, why did you run when we tried to arrest you?"

The man calmy replied, "Why sir, that is simply an old Booger County custom."

**********************************************************

POSSESION
IS
9/10ths OF THE LAW

By: Wm. Axley Allen
Published in August, 1983

 " Have y'all heard what happened over at J.B. Tilly’s this morning ? " the just arrived loafer asked his dozen or so counterparts who were sitting around the front porch of Max Taylor’s store. The first reply he got was from Cal Thomas, who spoke up, " J.B. hasn’t started drinking again, has he ? " Another fellow said, " No way. Old J.B. quit because of the way his old lady, Myra, raised cane about it and he won’t even slip a drink on the sly when she ain't around. "

" That’s a fact, " echoed another, " When J.B. Tilly quit drinking, he quit for good ! "

With everybody’s curiosity peaked, all eyes turned to the new arrival and several loafers spoke in unison, " Go ahead and tell us what happened, Ben. "

Well, Ben stood there for a moment, " situating his chaw, " then spit a deadly accurate stream of ambeer at an unsuspecting fly that had lit in the store yard, then he began.

" Sheriff Jessup got a call this morning to come out to J.B.’s and make an illegal whiskey arrest. Seems Myra was down at the corn crib just after daylight getting some corn for the chickens when she found a half full jug of moonshine hid under a pile of old burlap sacks over in the back corner. Now Myra always has been the suspicious sort, easy to jump to conclusions, so she grabbed up the jug and marched straight in the house. First thing she done was load up J.B.’s old double barrel shotgun and march down to the barn where J.B. was. He was just finishing up milking their old milk cow when he looked up and there stood Myra, her hair drawed up in a knot, her boots on and that old checkered smock apron she always wears over her long dress, pointing his shotgun at him with one hand and holding that jug in the other. She told him to march right in the house, that she was going to call the Sheriff and report him for having bootleg whiskey on their farm. She was mad as an old wet setting hen and J.B. knew her well enough to know when she was like this, he better do what she said. So he headed for the house, with Myra behind him every step of the way, pointing that old shotgun at him and fuming about how you can’t ever trust a man to stick to his word. J.B. tried to explain that he had not touched a drop in 10 years and if he had hid it there, he’d forgotten all about it, but Myra mumbled something about " Lying, good for nothing men " and poked him in the back with the gun barrel and prodded him towards the house.

Once in the house, Myra made J.B. set down on the sofa and with the jug cradled in her elbow and the shotgun pointed at J.B., she called the Sheriff. I bet it seemed like a week to old J.B. before the Sheriff got there. What with her ranting and raving, a temperance lecture that even the Salvation Army would find prudish, all the while waving the jug in one hand and the double barrel in the other. Every time J.B. would try to explain that he didn’t even remember putting it in the corn crib, she’d steady the barrels of the shotgun towards his nose and tell him to shut up.

By the time the Sheriff arrived, J.B. had given up trying to explain and was sitting quietly on the sofa, looking forward to the peace and quiet a jail term would provide. When the Sheriff knocked on the door, Myra hollered, " Come on in Sheriff and arrest him ( pointing to J.B. ) for possession of bootleg whiskey. "

Well, when Sheriff Jessup walked in, there sat J.B. on the sofa with Myra standing over him, the shotgun in one hand and the bootleg in the other. First thing the Sheriff done was take the gun away from Myra and try to calm her down. But there weren’t no calming Myra, all she could say was " Arrest him ! " while pointing the jug at J.B. Sheriff Jessup asked J.B. if the jug was his and J.B. said he didn’t remember ever seeing it in particular and he hadn’t had a drop to drink in over ten years and the first time he’d seen it to be sure was this morning when Myra brought it and the shotgun down to the barn. While the Sheriff was talking to J.B., Myra was building up a torment of how the Sheriff ought to arrest J.B. and how all men were, " Thick as thieves and up to no good. "

The Sheriff was trying to ignore her but every time he’d ask J.B. something, Myra would wave the jug and shout a little louder. Finally, the Sheriff walked over and looked out the screen door for a while like he was thinking things over. Then, he turned around and looked at Myra and asked her if J.B. was around the corn crib very much. " Hardly ever, " she replied, " Just long enough to be up to no good, " she continued.

" Have you seen J.B. with that jug in his hand ? " he asked. " Well, no. But I know its his’n, " she answered. " Well, Myra, I’m sure you’ve heard the phrase, " Possession is 9/10 of the law, " the Sheriff said, " And as much as I hate to, I’m going to have to arrest you for possession of illegal whiskey, " he concluded.

Well, I happened by J.B.’s just after the sheriff had loaded up Myra and the jug of evidence and started into town. J.B. was busy trying to straighten up what was left of the furniture. He told me that he’d seen hornets nests kicked, bears treed by black and tans and once, even a bobcat and a rattlesnake fighting but he’d never seen anything like Sheriff Jessup trying to get handcuffs on Myra. I believed him because the house looked like my brother’s two boys had been turned loose on it for a week. He said Myra really hurt the Sheriff a time or two, especially with the knitting needles, but finally he was able to pin her using some of the tricks he’d learned during the war.

Everybody around the store laughed till their faces hurt and Ben just stood there fiddling with a funny looking bottle cap. One of the boys finally quit laughing long enough to spot the bottle cap and asked Ben what kind it was. Ben laughed and said, " Hell, this ain't no bottle cap. Its the sheriffs badge. I found it under Myra’s cook stove when I helped J.B. put it back in the kitchen. Guess I better run it to him over at the jail but I think I’ll give " em time to get Myra locked up first. "

**********************************************************

THE HORSE TRADE

By: Wm. Axley Allen

(First Appeared in The Mountain Laurel, September, 1983 issue.)

"Fast talking trading like fast drinking can pull a high toll." ( Uncle Ben )

There's three kinds of traders, the ones who do it for fun, the ones who do it for profit and the ones that are born traders, like my Uncle Charlie was. Once Uncle Charlie decided to trade for something there was no backing down. He became a man possessed and his better judgment sometimes got churned like butter into a blind optimistic faith that a little more boot would work the deal.

The best example I know of this " trading fever " was the time he decided to trade horses with Uncle Ben. This is a more or less true account of what happens to a trader consumed with " have to have it fever. "

Uncle Ben sat with his elbows propped on the kitchen table. His brother-in-law, my Uncle Charlie, was leaning over the back of an old straight chair that he was sitting backwards on. They were at Uncle Ben's house and Uncle Charlie was trying to trade Uncle Ben out of a horse.

First off, Ben told Charlie that he, " Didn't much want to get rid of that horse, " but Uncle Charlie only became more set on trading. He offered his horse and five dollars to boot for Uncle Ben's horse. Uncle Ben just sat there, staring Uncle Charlie in the eye, without speaking.

Uncle Charlie said, " Come on, Ben, name you a price. I tell you what, I'll throw in another five dollars boot. " ( In those days, five dollars was a pile of money and the ten dollars that Uncle Charlie was offering as boot on the trade was many days wages. ) Still Uncle Ben just sat staring at him without opening his mouth.

Finally, Uncle Charlie couldn't wait any longer and he said, " Ben, you old cuss, you drive a hard bargain, but I'll tell you what I'll do. You see this here knife ? " he asked as he pulled a pearl handled knife out of his pocket. " This here's a genuine Barlow and you've been wanting this knife ever since you first seen it. I'll throw my knife in too. What do you say, Ben, we got a deal ? " Ben never answered. He only sit there like a piece of granite and stared at Uncle Charlie.

Uncle Charlie couldn't take the silence and finally he said, " Now look here Ben, I'll give you my horse, ten dollars cash money, my genuine Barlow knife and I'll even throw in that blue-tick gyp I got. You know she's one of the best " possum " dogs in these parts. Now I ask you, Ben, aint that a good deal for you ? "

Uncle Charlie developed a look of shocked disbelief. He couldn't believe that Uncle Ben wasn't jumping at such a deal. But Ben never moved a muscle or batted an eye.

By this time, Uncle Charlie had the determination of a Baptist preacher with a sinner to save. Ben's not saying anything was making him more determined to trade, regardless of the price.

" OK, Ben, I know what you're wanting and I'll tell you what I'll do. I'll give you my horse, ten dollars cash money, my genuine Barlow knife, my blue-tick gyp and I'll throw in my saddle as boot. You know that's the best sitting saddle you've ever seen, said so yourself not two weeks ago. That's my final offer, Ben, you can take it or leave it! You sit here and think it over. I'm going to the outhouse. "

He got up and went out the door. Uncle Ben sat there without moving or speaking a word for a good while after Uncle Charlie went out. Then in his slow drawl he said, " I wuz gonna take his first offer but he wouldn't let me have time to say it. Guess I better tell him it's a deal a'fore he throws in his young'uns to boot. "

( Authors note : Would anyone care to trade for a good Tennessee Walking Mule ? He's got one good eye and I have it on the word of the man that I got him from that he's the last of a great line of " Walking Mules ". ) Alas, I am afraid that my personality derived in part from both my uncles.

**********************************************************

THE BULL STORY

(First Appeared in The Mountain Laurel, June, 1983 issue.)

Large families were common in the mountains 75 or 80 years ago, even 50 years ago, but this story is about a fellow who had a family that was large even by mountain standards.

We have been told he had twenty sons. (Whether or not they were all by the same wife, we aren't sure.) According to the story, sometime around the turn of the century, he loaded them all up on the "Dick & Willie" Railroad in Stuart, Virginia, and took himself and all twenty boys to Danville, Virginia for the county fair.

When they got there of course they toured the whole fair and saw everything there was to see. One of those things was a big, prize dairy bull on exhibit. Naturally, they wanted to see it so the father walked up to the ticket taker and says, "I'd like to have twenty-one tickets for me and my boys."

The man selling the tickets said, "Wait just a minute. Mister, are you telling me that all twenty of those boys are your sons?"

Our fellow said, "Yes sir, they sure are."

The ticket man just stood there looking at him for a moment and said, "Mister, you don't owe us a thing! Go right on in. I want that bull to get a look at you!"

**********************************************************

Wild Man Of Borneo

(A fictional accounting of a supposedly true tale)

Near as I can remember, it must have been 20 years ago when Clovis Smart brought a little excitement to the county fair. Clovis had been once already and in one side show, he’d seen "The Wild Man of Borneo. " Now wild men from Borneo were a curiosity to Clovis and he paid his 25 cents and went in. The hawker was loudly giving his spiel of the many amazing traits of this semi-tame, human being. He proclaimed loudly, " Step right up folks and see a wild man ! A man that lives and sleeps with the most deadly reptiles on earth ! See the amazing wild man of Borneo. Don’t worry folks, he’s chained in a pit for your protection! Don’t miss this once in a lifetime chance to see a savage captured in the wilds of Borneo. A being so mean and fierce that deadly snakes are his only pets and companions!"

Well, Clovis walked cautiously over to the edge of the seven foot deep pit and peered down at the "wild man." There in the bottom of the four foot square pit sat a normal looking fellow with a huge chain around his ankle and the other end around a stake drove into the bottom of the pit. Occasionally he would look up at the curious onlookers and give his imitation of a wild man growl. The ladies would draw back and shiver and the men folk would act with the necessary bravery from a distance. Clovis was one to notice details and the details that caught his eye the most were the gold caps of the " wild man’s" teeth and the fact that none of the snakes were poisonous. There were probably 10 or 15 small reptiles in the pit with the " wild man" but they were green snakes, black snakes and garter snakes. None of them were poisonous, as the hawker had claimed. Well, Clovis took all this in and decided he’d liven things up the next night.

Sure enough, the next night, Clovis was standing on the edge of the pit, looking down at the " wild man " with the other spectators. Clovis looked over at the hawker and said, " Does he really like snakes ? " " Why Mister, " the hawker said, " He likes snakes so much that he eats them just like me and you would eat an apple. He don’t like snakes, he loves ‘em and the more deadly poisonous they are, the more he likes ‘em. " Clovis stood there as solemn as could be for a moment then he said, " Well, I brought him something he’s gonna love. "

The " wild man " who had been keeping an eye on Clovis and an ear on the conversation suddenly took on a look of terror. Clovis had a brown paper bag in his hand and he proceeded to open it up and dump the contents into the pit. As he was in the process of doing this, he explained to the hawker that he’d brought the " wild man " two King Cobra's that he’d caught. The " wild man " had been doing alright with the innocent and harmless snakes in the pit but when he heard that there was two King Cobra's and saw the contents of Clovis’ bag dropping into his pit, he became a dynamo of human activity. In one continuous motion, he ripped the stake, holding his leg irons, jumped up out of the floor of the pit and he passed them two old King Cobra in mid air with the their hoods going out and the " wild man " coming climbing out !

Clovis Smart brought an end to the " Wild Man of Borneo " act and nearly to himself. The " Wild Man" came up the walls of that pit with murder on his mind but Clovis was into the crowd and gone before he was caught.

Somebody said that they had seen the " wild man " down at the Mount Airy Fair a little latter on but he’d given up being wild and had settled instead on running the cotton candy machine.

The hawker who had convinced the wild man that this was a " perfectly safe act " wasn’t quite so lucky. It took three roustabouts to keep the "wild man" from throwing him in the pit with the King Cobra's

            

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