Tuesday, December 13, 2011

Three Codgers

 Reservoir Hill
Long ago, in a galaxy far, far away
These three codgers are the living personification of freedom itself.  They’re dressed in tattered dungaree pants with suspenders, or a wide leather belt, or both!  Their shirts are long-sleeved red wool affairs, patched at the elbows with whatever material they happen to have on hand. Their pants are loose at the waste, and the legs are tucked into the top of rough leather boots that cover their calves right up to their worn-out knees. Their hair and beards are wild as the rugged country they inhabit, and what little of their faces you’re likely to see, are chapped and weathered and rough as their leather boots. They carry a deliciously rank tobacco pipe and a dandy Colt revolver; they know how to use ‘em, and they fire ‘em both up every day.  They have one or more knives that they sharpen religiously on the sides of their leather boots.  They’re sharp as a razor and used for pealing everything from pears to possum.  They can stick them an inch deep in a pine stump, from twenty paces away; they practice with em’ daily, and they’re willing and able to stick ‘em in more than a stump!  Having said all that, these three guys are the most gregarious, amicable; easy to get along with rascals I’ve ever met.  “Obie’s Quest”

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