Fizzle Bodner came knees and elbows through the canes down to the creek where we were poling our half-drums up and down the tributaries of the Amazon. We aimed our rifles and shot him down.
“Huh! I ain’t goin’ to fall in this mud. Anyway, you ought to come up to Miz Blake’s. She’s got a lottery.”
We poled the tubs over to the planks we called a dock.Continue reading “Full of Beans”