Cleaning Chickens
>
>
> "Late again," the third-grade teacher said to little Sammy. "It ain't
> my fault," Miss Crabtree. "You can blame this on my Daddy. The reason
> I'm three hours late is Daddy sleeps naked!"
>
> Now Miss Crabtree had taught grammar school for thirty-some-odd
> years. So she asked little Sammy what he meant by that, despite her
> mounting fears. Full of grins and mischief, and in the flower of his
> youth, little Sammy and trouble were old friends, but he always told the
> truth.
>
> "You see, Miss Crabtree, at the ranch we got this here lowdown
> coyote. The last few nights he done et six hens and killed Ma's best milk
> goat. And last night, when Daddy heard a noise out in the chicken pen,
> he grabbed his gun and said to Ma, "That coyote's back again, I'm a
> gonna git him!'" "Stay back, he yelled to all us kids!" He was naked as
> a jaybird, no boots, no pants, no shirt! To the hen house he crawled,
> just like an Injun on the snoop. Then he stuck that double barrel
> through the window of the coop. As he stared into the darkness, with
> coyotes on his mind, our old hound dog Zeke had done woke up and come a
> sneakin' up behind Daddy.
>
> Then we all looked on plumb helpless as old Zeke stuck that cold
> nose in Daddy's crack! Then the gun went off!
>
> "Miss Crabtree, we been cleanin' chickens since three o'clock this
> morning!"
