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Up a Stump!



Up a Stump!

 

Goodness to gracious, I reckon I'll take a second crack a' this writing business. I don' reckon I does things fer the likes o'others, n' I'm wanderin' if I migh' ge' a bucks kick ou'a doin' these shenanigans for me own self! Remember with the knife-mind o' Elves, this be me poetry o'sorts. Writin' spoken loud n' true as I go, good n' proper! 

So now, after slingin' me hook and payin' off Pa's debts, I reckon I been slung high up a mighty stump. This ain' any usual stump we be talkin', we're talkin' stumps like them ones yer ge' in the Buckland bordered forest! By-jee it's high and mightey up 'ere, n' i' makes me royal whoozy to look down I tells ya! O'course I'm talkin' in metaphor 'ere, n' I'm more awares o' these ways than me-maw gives me credi'! I ain' talkin' abou' no actual stumps. I'm in a fix! 

Tha' man we robbed done did find ou', n' he's huntin' up now fer the robbers tha' did him wrong. When I 'eard, why, a shiver when righ' through me bones, like a shade from the Barrows did come to take over me freedoms. I don' think lanterns ligh' will 'elp much in this man-hunt, n' I reckon he's go' good odds stacked ter russle up a rapscallion. I said I wouldn' turn miss madame, Eylis, in ter no authorities or hunters, bu' I reckon promises are like day time; recurrin' n' dissapearin' fer darknesses! 

Yer can' make me feel rotten abou' this snag, n' I reckon I ain'ts ter blame. I ain' no hero sain' nor did I ever claim ter be, n' nor is anyone in this town. Jeepers, I reckon mos' folk 'ere are cowards runnin' from their wars, 'ere ter bed who they pleases. Tha' ain' liven, n' I won' slip into tha' bowl o'worms! I reckon I'll throw Eylis under the wagon n' make no bones abou' it, n' yer won' catch me sobbin' and blubberin' in no corners! 

So, after takin' some time squattin' in a corner with a look of a stoic Eastern warrior, I reckons I come to a grea' bow-wow. This were troublin' me so much I canna sleep, n' I mos' wished I was dead. Still, the robbers yer enjoy the folktales abou' are never the ones who go' away, no sir-ree jim-bob! All famous robbers ge' hunted up n' shackled one day or another, n' I reckon now's me time! I decided I'll be away from Pap with iron bars betwixt us, n' a roof over my head with ho' stews to warm my belly. Fellow robbers will be servin' wi' me in our wars wi' the law, n' I reckon this can strike up a mighty opportunity ter make new comrades!