Well the ole hillbilly has done up and moved agin. Ah am livin hyar in Miniapples now, in Minisoda hwar hit gits rat cold, leastways thats hwat the folks have told the ole hillbilly. Fum hwat Ah have seed so far, hit gits rat warm hyar too.
Anyways, hits a rat plezant place hyar, an Ah got me a shack jist a mosey up fum a lake hyarbouts that the folks call Calhoon. A feller tole me they is fish in at air lake, so one evenin Ah went into a naiber’s yard an cut me fav er sicks cane poals an Ah rigged me up sum fishin lans an bobbers an hooks. Thin Ah stuck muh jug of mash in a sack an staggered on down to the lake with muh fishin gear.
Well thish hyar ole hillbilly thowed in a lan, an kummincet to gittin bats rat away. They was comin fast an reggler lack. Seppin the bats warnt fish battin on muh bate. They wuz skeeters battin the ole hillbilly. An the skeeters roun hyarabouts aint no ordnerry skeeters. They is purt cloast to the saz of humminbirds.
So thaze hyar skeeters wuz havvin them a reggler drankin party offen the ole hillbilly. They wuz awl cawlin out to wun anuther, Git choreseff on down hyar! They is sum fan sippin hyar offen thish ole hillbilly! An Ah cooden do nothin bout em a sippin on me, seein as how Ah aint got but too hans. Ah was a holdin a cain poal in one hand an muh jug in tother, an Ah cooden swat nun of em air skeeters fer nuthin, seppin too er thray thet Ah hwocked rat smart with muh jug.
But hwat them thare skeeters haddent figgered on is that the ole hillbilly dranks a bit of mash ever now an thin. One tam a docter tole the ole hillbilly thet muh blood is jist rat arown thirty persint alkihaul. Thet aint suh bad, seein as how muh mash is rat roun aity persint alkihaul.
So the skeeters was drankin sum fan uncut hillbilly blood and thay kummincet tuh gittin a liddle bit tipsy lack. They startid doin loop de loops in thuh air an they was sangin an cuttin up an havvin thimsevves a fan ole tam.
But they didden no hwin tuh stop drankin fum the hillbilly fountin. They jist kep a sippin an sippin, an purt sune they cudden flah suh good. Thay startid to nosedav into the lake. Thade slap down on the wadder an lay thair, still a-sangin fit to beat the band. An thin the fish a startid in on em. They wuz a big ole northern pack thet snatcht up bout a duzzin of them thare skeeters. An then Ah rekkin the ole pack got hizzef perty drunkt up. He swum up tuh the bank and stuck hiz haid out the wadder an startid laffin at the ole hillbilly, a-poakin fun at muh overhauls an muh straw hat an muh butes an sich lack. Thin he grabbed muh cain poal an swatted me with it a tam er too.
Ah figgered thin hit wuz tam to mosey back hoam an chek on muh still . . .