Post by thbill on Dec 13, 2018 14:15:12 GMT -6
Just as Traveling Salesmen are prone to do, one broke down on Texas State Highway 36, just west of Sommerville. The young man got out of his, newly, restore 1953 Ford Pickup Truck, opened the Hood and determined that with a Flat Tip Screwdriver and a Monkey Wrench, he could fix it and be on his way.
Through the Barbed Wire and through the, better than, quarter of a mile of New Hay, hethrough legs and body through the other Barbed Wire to the deeply rutted dirt road. The old Santa Fe
Rail Road Tracks were a barrier that only tall men couldsee over but the young salesman scaled it and ran down the other side.
Hiking another fifty yards and he mounted the front pourch and knocked on the door. The short and stocky, grey headed, old German Swine Farmer opened the door and said, “Howdy, what can I do for you?”
The young salesman answered, “My pickup broke down, over on Thirty-six, but if you will loan me a Monkey Wrench and a Flat Tip I can fix it.” To this thehttps://www.mapquest.com/us/texas/somerville-tx-282033400 old German told him, “Well, of courseI will loa tn those to you if you you’ll follow me out to the Tool Shed.”
On the way out to the shed the salesman asked, “Do you anything about that three legged hog I passed in that Hay Field?” This brought about an abrupt halt, with the farmer turning to face the youngster ast he informed him, “Why, of course I do! Why that is my favorite piece of live stock on the whole place.”
The youngster then inquired, “Why is it missing it’s right rear leg.” to which he answered, “now son, you must be patient because it is important you hear all of this. Two weeks ago my grandson was swimming in that stock tank behind the house and the boy hung himself up in those vines that almost cover it every summer… he drowned!”
The salesman, feeling the strain, with elevated voice, almost yelled at the older man, “What in the wor...” the farmer stopped him with a hand held palm out and said, “Son… now son,” he dropped his hand and shook his head, “I told you, you need to be patient because all of this is important about that hog… Just last week I had backed my desil Massy up to the Sven Bit Plow.
Just like the Od Fool my wife accuses me of being, I left that engine idle in neutral and just like always, it bounced back and forth and side to side as the engine lopped in the idle. Just as I slid the third pin into the Three Point Hitch it bounced into Reverse, backed up against that Seven Bit and stalled that mighty Desil Engine… The Left Drive Tire parked itself in the middle of my chnest… I could not breath! It was killing me!”
He continued after a brief pause, “The only one that saw that happen was thar hog. He ran out of the bushes climbed the Superstructure on that seven bit and lept over to my mettal seat from the top of it and like to have killed itself trying to stop that much fat with those little hooves on that Steel Seat. But getting itself settled in, with it’s head, it began charging the Gear Shift, striking it over and over with it’s skull… Finally… it bounced out of gear… the tractor rolled off my chest…...saved my life!
The salesman contained himself no longer and screamed, “What does that have to do with that hog having no right rear leg?”
The old farmer, slowly, pulled his Ford Tractor cap down over his eyes, stuffed his hands into the hip pockets of his Bib Overalls, looked straight down at the dirt, kicked the dirt with his right foot and for two or three seconds, he scribbled in the dirt with the tow of his boot. Finally he stood his ground. Pulled his hands out, into the clear, lifted the brim of his cap, clearing his vision and said, “Son… now surely, you wouldn’t eat a hog like that more than one ham at a time.
Through the Barbed Wire and through the, better than, quarter of a mile of New Hay, hethrough legs and body through the other Barbed Wire to the deeply rutted dirt road. The old Santa Fe
Rail Road Tracks were a barrier that only tall men couldsee over but the young salesman scaled it and ran down the other side.
Hiking another fifty yards and he mounted the front pourch and knocked on the door. The short and stocky, grey headed, old German Swine Farmer opened the door and said, “Howdy, what can I do for you?”
The young salesman answered, “My pickup broke down, over on Thirty-six, but if you will loan me a Monkey Wrench and a Flat Tip I can fix it.” To this thehttps://www.mapquest.com/us/texas/somerville-tx-282033400 old German told him, “Well, of courseI will loa tn those to you if you you’ll follow me out to the Tool Shed.”
On the way out to the shed the salesman asked, “Do you anything about that three legged hog I passed in that Hay Field?” This brought about an abrupt halt, with the farmer turning to face the youngster ast he informed him, “Why, of course I do! Why that is my favorite piece of live stock on the whole place.”
The youngster then inquired, “Why is it missing it’s right rear leg.” to which he answered, “now son, you must be patient because it is important you hear all of this. Two weeks ago my grandson was swimming in that stock tank behind the house and the boy hung himself up in those vines that almost cover it every summer… he drowned!”
The salesman, feeling the strain, with elevated voice, almost yelled at the older man, “What in the wor...” the farmer stopped him with a hand held palm out and said, “Son… now son,” he dropped his hand and shook his head, “I told you, you need to be patient because all of this is important about that hog… Just last week I had backed my desil Massy up to the Sven Bit Plow.
Just like the Od Fool my wife accuses me of being, I left that engine idle in neutral and just like always, it bounced back and forth and side to side as the engine lopped in the idle. Just as I slid the third pin into the Three Point Hitch it bounced into Reverse, backed up against that Seven Bit and stalled that mighty Desil Engine… The Left Drive Tire parked itself in the middle of my chnest… I could not breath! It was killing me!”
He continued after a brief pause, “The only one that saw that happen was thar hog. He ran out of the bushes climbed the Superstructure on that seven bit and lept over to my mettal seat from the top of it and like to have killed itself trying to stop that much fat with those little hooves on that Steel Seat. But getting itself settled in, with it’s head, it began charging the Gear Shift, striking it over and over with it’s skull… Finally… it bounced out of gear… the tractor rolled off my chest…...saved my life!
The salesman contained himself no longer and screamed, “What does that have to do with that hog having no right rear leg?”
The old farmer, slowly, pulled his Ford Tractor cap down over his eyes, stuffed his hands into the hip pockets of his Bib Overalls, looked straight down at the dirt, kicked the dirt with his right foot and for two or three seconds, he scribbled in the dirt with the tow of his boot. Finally he stood his ground. Pulled his hands out, into the clear, lifted the brim of his cap, clearing his vision and said, “Son… now surely, you wouldn’t eat a hog like that more than one ham at a time.