VI The ’Possum Hunt

“Four Mile” was jes’ kind o’ googlin’ along (It ketches the Skillet in “Thirty-three” Whar the woods is thick an’ the moon ain’t strong, An’ the ’possum hides in a holler tree); ’T was shimmerin’ thar all gold an’ bright Ez we loafed threw the medder thet Awtum night. We’d et a light supper—sow belly, corn bread, Pickled beets, fried eggs an’ two kinds o’ pie— When Bill, sort o’ cazuel, shoved back an’ said, A-squintin’ aloft at a perfec’ sky: “’S a pretty good night fer coons; so still Yer kin hear yer heart when yer’ve clum up hill.” I sensed what he meant, so I flaxed around, An’ in less ’n no time we was out on the trail. Bill’s houn’ dawg, ol’ Jess, was sniffin’ the ground Pertendin’ tew ax, “Is it ’possum or quail?” Tho’ she knowed well enough thet a Hunter’s Moon Don’t never mean nuthin’ ’cept ’possum or coon. I’ve heerd tell o’ moonlights on earth here an’ thar, In Venice, an’ down in ol’ Rome’s Colyseum; But gim me the light of our lunary star When dew turns ter di’monds in Frost’s jubileum; When the ’simmons is ripe, an’ not a leaf stirs, An’ the fiel’s is jes’ drownded in silvery blurs! We was strollin’ ’long “Four Mile” when suddenly Jess With a sharp, quick yelp shot off threw the bresh. Jehosaphat, pard, I gotta confess How a houn’ dawg’s tonguin’ will quicken the flesh! For over a hour me ’n Bill snook along, An’ never got tired o’ foll’rin’ thet song. She was pawin’ a tree when we seen ’er at last, A-yelpin’ an’ whinin’ jessif she’s possessed. ’T was a gum, thick an’ solid, an’ big ez a mast, An’ ’fore I could speak Bill was down tew ’is vest. Some chopper is Bill, an’ I sure never seen A tree cut cleaner—nor ha’f ez clean. All shiny an’ white like a human kid Thet ’possum looked when we hauled ’er out! I felt like ’t was murder, I suttenly did, But Bill ’e sez, “Now, keep a eye on ’er snout; She’ll ac’ ’z if she’s daid ez long ez it’s curled, An’ don’t ye leggo of ’er—not fer the world.” When we reached “Four Mile” we sed down ter rest, Completely bewitched by thet orb in the West. We was talkin’ ’bout Injuns, an’ seein’ ’em tew, When I noticed, by jing, that ’ar ’possum hed blew!