Ain’t Nothin’ Says a Feller Cain’t Learn Nothin’

One Ugly Mug 2
One Ugly Mug
Thish hyar ole hillbilly aint much fer beleevin in thangs other foaks sez. Foaks’ll tell yuh, “Thish hyar sham pooh will make yore hair shannier and git ewe more wimmen then ewe kin shake a stick at.”

Ain’t no truth to it. Truss me. Bin air; dun at; got the scars on muh skalp tuh pruve it.

But sinst Ah wuz jist a liddle ole hillbilly, thaze one thang Ah had hyeerd tell thet Ah thott wuzz the God’s most honestest truth.

Ah wuz told tam an tam agin they ain’t no way a carp’s gonna take a lerr. An Ah wint an toald foaks the same thang. “Doant aiven thank about it,” Ah’d say. “Aint no carp nohwirr no tam noways evver taken no lerr.”

Well, culler thish hyar ole hillbilly a bratt shade of rong.

Yissterdy aivnin, Ah wuzz out fishin on Lake of the Als. Ah wuzz fishin with a lerr–a Rappluh Shaller Shad. Ah thoad it in cloast tuh the bank, twixt thuh bank an a mess of lily pads–an sumthin hit it.

Ah thot: at air is a natty fan bass.

Ah coulden take no lan up on the rail. Ah’d tern thuh handle, an Ah coulden git it tuh do nothin.

Purdy soon, Ah disaddid hit coulden be no bass. Hit was too big.

Fanly Ah got it up tuh the surfiss soze Ah kud see it. An hit warnt nuthin seppin a big ole carp.

Ah didden wanna brake muh rod ner bust muh lan, speshly coz Ah am rat fond of thuh Rappluh lerr Ah wuz a-yoozin. Soze Ah took muh naidle-nose plars an pluckt thuh lerr outen the ole carp’s mouth.

Ah taiken a cupple of pitchers. Thay aint suh sharp, mainly cozz thuh ole carp wuz a-moovin all thuh tam. But hittle give ewe an eye-deer. Ah wreckin thuh ole thang wood go mebbe ate er ten pownz.

Ah aint suh prowd bowt ketchin me no carp, seppin Ah cott it on a lerr. Thet’s strainj. Iffen Ah hadden had enuff mash tuh drank, Ah matter thott Ah wuz havin me sum deleeryum tree mens. In fack, Ah wuz suh consarned Ah give muhseff a blood test atter Ah let thuh ole carp go. Ah drawed off bout a teaspoon of blood and put a match to it. Shore nuff, hit burnt jiss fan, with a long blue flame. At let me no thet muh blood alkie haul content wuz jiss rat.

Laiter on, Ah ketched me a purdy nass liddle ole bass. Thuh ole carp woodah maid sicks er seven of at air liddle ole bass. Still, Ah lackt thuh ole bass a hoal sat bedder. Carp’s jiss an ugly critter. Kanly remands me of a praicher Ah yooster no, feller yooster come rown an preech tuh me bowt goin tuh church. Mebbe haze dun bin re in car naited.

Another on the Devil's Horse

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Hit Awl Duppinds on the Bate a Feller Yoozes

Not at All Coy

Thaze fellers hool tell yuh thet carp aint wurth aitin. Them foaks’ll say, “Em air fish liv in mud, an ay tace lack mud.”

Doant go lissnin tuh nun of at air nonscents. Carp is fan aitin, iffen a feller traits em rat. Hits moast kriticle tuh put jiss a spunefull of thuh ole hillbilly’s speshul rokkit fule mash in yore skillit hwin yuh frah em up. Hittle maik at air carp jist as smuthe as sikk an dee-lishus.

Ennywaze, wun aivnin a fyew daze ago, thuh ole hillbilly got hizzeff a hankrin fer sum carp. Thaze a hoal passle of em down in Laik Calhoon, so Ah got muh cane poal an sum corn fer bate an heddid off down tuh the laik.

Now, hwinnivver thish hyar ole hillbilly goze summers rown bowt, Ah moas jinrully hed thew the naibers’ bakyards. Ah go rown, maikin shore foaks’ back dores iz lockt an at air aint nuthin rown at a burgler mat stail. An iffen Ah dew fand ennythang lack at, Ah taik it back hoam fer saif-kaipin.

So Ah wuz stroallin thew the yards, an Ah spad a liddle pond. Ah stopt an lookt in, an hit wuz chock full of carp–big uns, long az muh arm an thick as thuh hed of a tawk-show hoast.

Now, thay wuz kanly odd lookin. Thay wuz awl kands of cullers. Sum wuz kanly orinj; sum wuz hwat; sum wuz awl mixt up, with orinj an hwat an aivin bloo.

But hit didden madder. They wuz carp, plane as plane kin be.

So Ah bated up muh hook an thoad it in. Purdy soon, Ah had ate er nan of em air funny-lookin carp land up sad me in the yard.

Ah wuz jiss taikin anuther offen the hook hwin thish hyar feller come tairin owt thuh howse, yellin his hed off.

Ah wuz tairbull confyoozed. Ah thot thay warnt nobawddy hoam.

But hyar he wuz, an ole ball-haided feller a-wairin sum plad pants, his faice a-turnin a nass shaid of cranbury.

Jiss hwat in tarnaishun dew ewe thank yore a-dewin? he shouted.

Ahm jist a-fishin, Ah sedd. Ah didden see no no-fishin sans.

No-fishin sans!

Izz air a ekko rown bowt? Ah axed.

Ewe dern fool! Ewe caint fish fer em air fish! Em air fish is coy!

Ah lookt at him an shook muh haid. Coy? Em air fish aint coy. Feller jist has tuh yooze thuh rat bate.

His ahz goggled owt, an he kummincet tuh turnin bloo an en purpull. Awl thuh vanes wuzz standin owt on his haid. Then he fell on thuh grownd an startid twitchin an kanly barkin, lack he wuz a sick dog.

Bowt then hiz waff come a-runnin owt of the howse, a-yellin her hed off. Ah dissaddid then thet hit wuzz gittin a bit lowd. So Ah thoad the carp in muh tow sack, slung it oaver muh shoulder, and slipt away.

Yawl let me no iffen yore intrestid in commin tuh muh fish frah . . .