THE DELIGHTS OF A TENNESSEEAN PICNIC.

New Zealand Graphic, Volume IX, Issue 11, 12 March 1892, Page 248

THE DELIGHTS OF A TENNESSEEAN PICNIC.

I ii \i> been staying with a Tennessee mountaineer for three or four days, while I waited for mail and to get my shoes repaired, and was invited to go with the family down to a farmers’ picnic. Before leaving home the old man took his son Bill, who was a young man of twenty, asioe tor a talk, ami I noticed that Bill looked thoughtful all the way down. There were about 100 families gathered at the grove, and it seemed to me as if I had never seen a more pleasant or good-natured crowd. Lunch was over and everybody was still enjoying himself, when the old man winked me out of a knot of people, beckoned me into the bushes, and there stopped to say : ‘ Kurnel, I want yo’ to go ami wrassle with Bill, right away. ’ ‘ But I’m no wrestler,’ I protested. ‘ I dun doan’ mean fur yous to take hold of him, but to argefy. fie won’t listen to me, but he’s sorter took to you, and he’ll believe what you say.’ ‘ What’s the matter with Bill?’ * Why, he’s dun bound to git up a jumpin’ match.’ ‘ Weil, let him jump if he wants to.’ • Kurnel, yo’ doan’ consider the consideration. If Bill gits up a jumpin' match, he’s bound to spread hisself and jump nine feet. Thar's all the Hawkins boys yere, and some of ’em ar' gwine to jump ten feet or bust. Thar’s all the Bunbar crowd yere, and some of ’em ar’ gwine to make it ten feet six or break both legs.' ‘ Well ?’ ‘Well, do you reckon my Bill is gwine to stand that? No, sah ! When he finds hisself knocked out on the jumpin' bizness he’s gwine to pull that ole pistol o’ his and begin to bang, and the next tiling yo* know yo’ll think another war lias broke out! tio’n wrassle with him, kurnel, and wrassle fur all yer wuth, fur thnr haint live minits between us and the riproarist ole shootin' scrape yo’ ever heard of.* I found Bill just as he had taken oil'his coat to jump. It was tough ‘ wrasslin’ ’ to get him away and induce him to give up his programme, but he finally consented. On the way home he said to me : ‘ Kurnel, 1 reckon yon was right about that yere fussin’.’ ‘ Yes, 1 think so.’ ‘'Cause I dun looked at my pistol after I had promised, ami what do you reckon ? Why, she hadn't a dinned cartridge in her, and them Hawkins crowd would a made b’ar meat o’ine afore I could et hollered twice !’