Wednesday, January 7, 2009

The Journal of Cotton Adams #5

July 27th, 1737
One thing about my old horse, Calico, you can fall asleep in the saddle and he keeps on traveling. Well, this afternoon, I did just that. I woke up near the town of Crittermill to the sounds of singing and shouting! There was a big tent in the distance with hundreds of people jumping and hollering at the top of their voices. Seems there was a self-proclaimed "miracle-workin', preacher man" by the name of Willy Poppit. He had a hand painted sign outside the tent which read, "Man, I Cure! The Willy Poppit Power-on-High Heaven-Sent Anointed Revival and Mobile Library". Another sign read, "Snake Handling 101" and on the tent itself, someone had written in bold red letters, "Name Your Poison…and I'll Drink it!" Baskets for money were being passed around as the white haired figure behind the pulpit was barking like a wounded dog on a trail drive. I think he knew who I was, for he made his way down, looked me in the face with his wild-eyed stare, and said…"Yabba Dabba Doo and YOU CAN TOO!" Then he started bouncing around, slapping people on the head. I had never seen the like. Suddenly, a wee Scotsman came in playing the bagpipes and the crowd scattered like blind field mice at a cat convention. A fire broke out and cattle stampeded, tearing down the tent as it burned. I barely escaped with my life. A few hours later, I rode ol' Calico back to that spot. Sadly, I found Willy Poppit's body face down in a nest of rattlesnakes and a note that read, "I drank the poiso…" I have never been able to find out what "poiso" is. It must be some kind of liquid refreshment or something. I buried him by a weeping willow near Cockroach Creek. Even though, he was a tad looney, I hope to see him someday. Less wild-eyed and snakeless.

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