Now that King had caused such hard times in the country that Rob and his gang went to takin’ stuff from rich folks that came through on the public road and would give it to them that needed it. So fin’lly they lived pretty good out there, and all the poor people who knew where they camped at wouldn’t tell it. The high sheriff of that county he ’uld try to catch some of’em, but they always went out several in a bunch and folks ’uld warn ’em in time ’fore any posse got anywhere close. Then they’d hide out and shoot at the sheriff and his men and scare ’em right bad; so pretty soon they just quit tryin’ to arrest any of that wilderness outfit.
Then one mornin’ some of ’em was walkin’ along and they looked out one side the road and saw a woman sittin’ on a log a-cryin’. Asked her what was the matter, and she told ’em that her two sons had been arrested for killin’ a deer and were goin’ to be hung that very day at ten o’clock in the courthouse square. She said she was a widow and they were so poor they hadn’t nothin’ to eat, and her boys had taken a chance on killin’ a deer but had got caught ’fore they got in home with the meat.
“Never you mind about that, ma’m,” Rob told her. “You can just cheer up now, and go on back home. If anybody gets hung at ten o’clock, hit’ll not be your boys, because I’m the one that’s goin’ to do any hangin’ that’s done today.”
So the old lady she cheered up and left.
Then Robin he fixed it up with his men to hide out near the courthouse with their bows and plenty of arrows, and he told ’em that when he blowed his horn they were to come a-runnin’. Told ’em to go on and get ready. Said he was goin’ on ahead by himself.
So Robin went on toward town, got out in the main road and directly there came an old beggar, bowin’ to him, bowin’, and takin’ off his hat. He had on an old jingly suit of clothes, coat all tore to pieces. He was awful honery-fixed.
“Howdy do, daddy.”
“Good mornin’, sir. Good mornin’, sir.”
“How’d you like to swap clothes with me?”
“Aw, you don’t want my old ragged fixin’s.”
“I might too now. You pull off and we’ll change right here.”
So the old beggar and Rob swapped clothes, and he gave the old man some money to boot. That pleased him awful well. Then Robin asked him, says, “Do you know who I am?”
“Why, no, I don’t know ye.”
“I’m the head of that wilderness gang, and you better stay out of sight today. They might take you for me and shoot ye.”
So the old beggar man he headed for the woods, scared to death, and hid out, and Robin went on toward town. He looked out before him directly and here came the high sheriff ridin’ on a big fine horse. So Robin commenced bowin’ to him, bowin’ to him, till he rode up. Then Rob he made like he wanted to speak to him. The sheriff pulled up his horse, says, “What you want?”—Talked awful hateful.
“I need me some clothes—bad. Hain’t you got an old suit you can give me?”
“No! I got no time to fool with ye. I got to hire somebody to do a hangin’ for me today. I been huntin’ since early this mornin’ for a man that’ll take the job, and it’s almost time for the hangin’ right now.”
“I’ll hire to hang.”
“You will? All right, then. You can have the clothes off the two men bein’ hung, and I’ll pay ye two dollars for the job.”
“That’ll suit me all right, I reckon.”
“Well, come on, you old fool. We’ll have to hurry.”
The sheriff rode on off, and left Robin to walk. And when Rob got to the courthouse the sheriff had them two young fellers up on the scaffle and the nooses already around their necks.
“Come on here, old man, and get this done. Be quick about it!”
Rob looked around, says, “Ain’t there no preacher here to pray for these fellers ’fore we hang ’em?”
“No. We got no time for any such foolishness. Come on here and pull the trap.”
“Oh, no, sir, not before we have some preachin’ done. I know where I can get us a lot of preachers. I can get ’em here right quick for ye.”
So Robin pulled out his horn from under that old ragged coat and blowed it, and all his men jumped out with their bows drawn on the sheriff and all his deputies and came at ’em. The crowd that was there to see the hangin’ commenced shoutin’ and hollerin’ and laughin’ to see the high sheriff in such a fix, and the sheriff and his men saw the danger they were in and had to back down. Then Robin he took the ropes off the two young men and told ’em to go on back home and let their mother see they were all right.
Then Rob he took hold on the high sheriff and dragged him up on the scaffle, put the noose around his neck, says, “I said I’d do your hangin’ today, didn’t I?” Says, “I’d sure like to have that suit of clothes you got on, too.—You ready to pull the trap, boys?”
So they kept on foolin’ with the ropes and the trap, a-mak-in’ out like they would hang the sheriff and he kept beggin’ ’em not to do it. Then Robin says to him, says, “I’ll make ye a proposition now; you promise you’ll not bother them two boys no more and not take up any more men for deer-killin’, and we might let ye off, this time.”
The sheriff he promised quick. He was just a-sweatin’.
“And you can tell the King, too, if he interferes with these two boys, or us either, I’ll call my men and we’ll raise an army and hang him and all his deputies. There’s a lot of folks don’t care much for the way he’s been runnin’ things.”
So the sheriff agreed to that, too, and Robin turned him loose and he and his men they left there in a hurry.
“We’re through, boys. Let’s go on back to headquarters.”
So they all went on back to the wilderness, and the law quit botherin’ ’em.
Then that mean King he fin’lly got put out of office, and they had a good King who tried to make better laws and run the nation right, but word was slow gettin’ out to that part of the country where Robin and his gang lived, and there were lowdown deputies and severe tax-assessors still runnin’ over the people in that section.
So Robin and his men they still saw fit to take from the rich and give to the poor. And one day Rob was out huntin’ when he saw a brisk-lookin’ man comin’ along on a horse. Looked like a real rich man, so Robin got out before him, drawed his bow and stopped him, says, “Hand here your money, ever’ cent of it.”
That man reached in his saddle-pockets and started handin’ over his money.
“Look in your clothes, too. I want to know how much you got on ye.”
Well, when the man started reachin’ in his pockets, his coat folded back and Robin saw by the badge on him that it was the King. So he took all the money and handed it back to him.—Hit wasn’t so much—not more’n a travelin’ man ’uld need anyhow.
“No. I’ll not take anything off you. I love my King. We’ve done heard about you out here, and we’re glad you’ve come. I reckon you’ll be cleanin’ up all the deviltry that’s been goin’ on in these settle-ments.”
“And who are you?” the King asked him.
“My name’s Hood—Robin Hood.”
“Are you the one that dressed up like a beggar that time, and played such a trick on the sheriff?”
“Yes, I reckon I’m the one.”
The old King throwed back his head and laughed good, slapped his hand on his knee, says, “Then you’re the very man I’m lookin’ for. I’ve heard a lot about you boys—good report, too, accordin’ to my way of thinkin’. Heard about you bein’ such good shots with the bow ’n arrow and I wanted to see you shoot a little.”
“Just come on and we’ll go back where my gang is at. We’ll fix up a little somethin’ to eat first, and then we might do a little shootin’ for ye.”
So he took the new King right on in to headquarters, says, “Boys, this here man is our new King. Fix up a little dinner for all of us now, and after we eat we’ll have a little fun.”
They went to it and cooked up
all kinds of good deer meat and bear meat and wild turkeys and fish. Baked some big pones of bread, and got dinner all ready. Then they set the King down and they all pulled up their benches, and it was a sight in the world to see them men eat. The King bragged on how good everything was, and they talked politics a little, and they fin’lly got done eatin’. Then they set up some poles and marks a good piece off and went to shootin’. It was hard to say which one was the best.
Then the King says to ’em, says, “I never saw such shootin’ in all my life.” Says, “Now, boys, I’ll tell ye: if you men want to come back under the law again I’ll not have ye prosecuted for a thing. Why, I can use ye, ever’ man here. I need ye for sheriffs and deputies in this section; and if any of ye want to jine my army, I’ll study about that too.”
Well, Robin and about half his men agreed and went with the King, but the rest of ’em said they had got so they liked that life out there in the woods best, and so they stayed.
“Do you remember who it was you heard tell that tale, Uncle Kel?” I asked.
“Heard it when I was a boy. Ain’t thought of it for more’n thirty years. My father told it as far as I can recollect. He knowed a sight of old tales—songs, too.”
“Did you ever hear a song about Robin Hood?”
“Why!” said Delia, “Norah Harmon, lives over on the road to Stanley, she knows a song about the two fellers bein’ rescued from the sheriff. Hit’s just the same as the tale, but it rhymes out real good and she’s got a tune to it.”
“I know a tale!” said ten-year-old Stan. “Boy in my room told it the other day. Said his mommy learned it to him. Teacher always lets us tell tales last thing on a Friday—if we been good all week.”
And without much urging Stan plunged in a bit breathlessly.
Sody Sallyraytus
One time there was an old woman and an old man and a little girl and a little boy—and a pet squirrel sittin’ up on the fireboard. And one day the old woman wanted to bake some biscuits but she didn’t have no sody, so she sent the little boy off to the store for some sody sallyraytus. The little boy he went trottin’ on down the road singin’, “Sody, sody, sody sallyraytus!” Trotted across the bridge and on to the store and got the sody sallyraytus, and started trottin’ on back.
Got to the bridge and started across and an old bear stuck his head out from under it, says:
“I’LL EAT YOU UP—YOU AND YOUR SODY SALLYRAYTUS!”
So he swallered the little boy—him and his sody sallyraytus.
The old woman and the old man and the little girl and the pet squirrel they waited and they waited for the little boy, but he didn’t come and didn’t come, so fin’lly the old woman sent the little girl after the little boy. She skipped down the road and skipped across the bridge and on to the store, and the storekeeper told her the little boy had already been there and gone. So she started skippin’ back, and when she got to the bridge the old bear stuck his head out—
“I EAT A LITTLE BOY, HIM AND HIS SODY SALLYRAYTUS—AND I’LL EAT YOU TOO!”
So he swallered her down.
The old woman and the old man and the pet squirrel they waited and waited but the little girl didn’t come and didn’t come, so the old woman sent the old man after the little boy and the little girl. He walked on down the road, walked across the bridge—Karump! Karump! Karump!—and walked on till he came to the store, and the storekeeper told him the little boy and the little girl had already been there and gone.
“They must’a stopped somewhere ’side the road to play.”
So the old man he started walkin’ on back. Got to the bridge—
“I EAT A LITTLE BOY, HIM AND HIS SODY SALLYRAYTUS, AND I EAT A LITTLE GIRL—AND I’LL EAT YOU, TOO!”
And the old bear reached and grabbed the old man and swallered him.
Well, the old woman and the pet squirrel they waited and waited but the old man didn’t come and didn’t come. So the old woman she put out a-hunchety-hunchin’ down the road, crossed the bridge, got to the store, and the storekeeper told her, says, “That boy’s already done been here and gone—him and the little girl and the old man, too.”
So the old woman she went hunchin’ on back—a-hunchety-hunchety-hunch. Got to the bridge—
“I EAT A LITTLE BOY, HIM AND HIS SODY SALLYRAYTUS, AND I EAT A LITTLE GIRL, AND I EAT AN OLD MAN—AND I’LL EAT YOU, TOO!”
Reached out and grabbed her, and swallered her up.
Well, the pet squirrel he waited and he waited and he waited, and he went to runnin’ back and forth up there on the fireboard, and he was gettin hungrier and hungrier; so fin’lly he jumped down on the table, jumped off on the bench, and jumped to the floor. Shook his tail out behind him and out the door and down the road, just a-friskin’. Scuttered across the bridge and on in the store. R’ared up on his hindquarters and looked for the storekeeper, squarked a time or two, and when the storekeeper looked and saw him, the pet squirrel raised up on his tiptoes and asked him had he seen anything of the little boy or the little girl or the old man or the old woman.
“Law, yes! They all done already been here and gone. Surely they ain’t all done stopped ’side the road to play.”
So the pet squirrel he stretched his tail out behind him and frisked out the door. Frisked on over the bridge—
“I EAT A LITTLE BOY, HIM AND HIS SODY SALLYRAYTUS, AND I EAT A LITTLE GIRL, AND I EAT AN OLD MAN, AND I EAT AN OLD WOMAN—AND I’LL EAT YOU, TOO!”
The little pet squirrel he stuck his tail straight up in the air and just chittered, but time the old bear made for him he was already scratchin’ halfway up a tree. The old bear he went clamberin’ up to get him. The squirrel got ’way out on a limb, and the old bear started out the limb after him. The squirrel he jumped and caught in the next tree.
“HUMPF! IF YOU CAN MAKE IT WITH YOUR LITTLE LEGS, I KNOW I CAN MAKE IT WITH MY BIG ’UNS!”
And the old bear tried to jump—didn’t quite make it. Down he went and when he hit the ground he split wide open.
The old woman stepped out, and the old man he stepped out, and the little girl jumped out, and the little boy he jumped out. And the old woman says, “Where’s my sody sallyraytus?”
“Here,” says the little boy, and he handed it to her.
So they went on back to the house and the pet squirrel he scooted on ahead of ’em, cloomb back up on the fireboard and curled his tail over his back, and watched the old woman till she took the biscuits out the oven. So then she broke him off a chunk and blew on it till it wasn’t too hot, and handed it up to him. And he took it in his forepaws and turned it over and over and nibbled on it—and when he eat it up he leaned down and chittered for some more. And he was so hungry the old woman had to hand him chunks till he’d eat two whole biscuits.
“Why, that’s like one I read in a book!” exclaimed one of the girls.
“Billy Goats Gruff,” snorted one of the boys. “I read that in the third grade, but it wasn’t like that; didn’t have no squirrel in it nor no bear.”
“Did ye ever hear about the old sow and her three shoats?” asked Old Rob. “That’s in your books, too. Hit was even in the picture show down at Newton here a few months back.”
“Law me!” said Granny. “Have they done gone and put that old tale in the movin’ pictures?”
“They called it ‘The Three Little Pigs,’ but it wasn’t the way you told it to us.”
“Tell it, Granny!” came from all sides—
“Let Big Rob tell it.” She chuckled. “Hit’s one of your Jack-’n-Will-’n-Tom tales.”
Old Rob gave the two children on his lap a jounce and started out—
The Old Sow and the Three Shoats
One time there was an old sow lived ’way out in the woods under a rock-clift, had three little shoats. One was named Will, he was the oldest; and the next ’un was Tom, and the least ’un was named Jack. Well, them little shoats thought it was time they went out to seek their fortune and the old sow told ’em, says, “When y
ou build you a house build it out of rocks and bricks so the old red fox can’t get ye. And come back to visit your old mammy every Sunday.”
Well, Will, he started out first. The old sow fixed him three days’ rations and a little house-plunder on a drag-sled and he went on out in the wilderness, and directly he met the old red fox.
“Hello, little piggy! Where ye started?”
“Started out to build me a house.”
“What you goin’ to build it out’n?”
“Rocks and bricks.”
“Oo, no, little piggy! Rocks and bricks’ll be awful cold. Why, you ’uld freeze! Build your house out of chips and cornstalks.”
So Will he built his house out of chips and cornstalks, and that night the old red fox come to the door.
“Hello, little piggy! Let me in so I can warm.”
“Oh, no! I’m feared you might eat me up!”
“By the beard on my chin,
I’ll blow your house in!”
So the old red fox he fared back on his hindquarters and blowed—blowed the house over and grabbed Will and eat him up.
And Will didn’t come back to see his old mammy that Sunday.
Well, pretty soon Tom started out. The old sow fixed him up three days’ rations and a little house-plunder on a drag-sled and he went on out in the wilderness. Met the old red fox.
Grandfather Tales Page 6