At the spanky new library in Kingston, a free luncheon drew a nice crowd.
Audrey and Henry Crosby chatted after my storytelling program about country life. Henry said: In the outhouse, the index of the Sears and Roebuck catalogue was preferred because that paper was softer than the shiny, slippery paper in the rest of the catalogue.
Good to know.
And a couple of us tried to piece together that old story about Tut Tuttle and the drawbridge.
Near as we could figure, one of Tut Tuttle’s cows was feeling poorly, so he administered an enema of warm soapy water poured into the bell of a trumpet gently inserted where it would do the most good.
The cow got nervous during the procedure and ran for it. Ran right for the drawbridge, and, well, with all that internal pressure, that horn she blew.
It being a foggy day, the fellow running the drawbridge failed to see Tut Tuttle’s distressed cow, thought the blare was a signal to raise the bridge for a passing boat.
So he did.
And Tut Tuttle’s cow ran right off the edge of the bridge and plunged into the water below.
Which didn’t do her any good.
Tut was so mad. He said to the fellow he should be fired if he couldn’t tell the difference between a maritime signal and a cow with a trumpet up her . . . bum.
I think that’s how it goes. Corrections? Additions? Embellishments? All much appreciated.
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