Hollerin’ o’er the Hill
You can call me Buddy. Last name’s not important, ‘least not for this story anyway. First off, I liked workin’ at Percy’s farm because o’ the nice weather, ‘n the cattle was always good ta me, whether I’s in a bad mood or not. Percy was a good man, ‘n I’s happier than a pig ‘n slop most o’ the time. Now, I didn’ like workin’ there fa three reasons: ol’ miss Duncan was a real pain in my ass, that damn dog that alwas followed me ‘round, and that ruckus o’er the hill that alwas caught ma ear in the night. I didn’ know what it was, an’ I didn’ wanna find out. All that hollerin’ and screamin’ and shoutin’ scared the livin’ daylights outta me.
The sun was shinin’ nicely and I was doin’ my chores like usual down at the barn. The hens got watah ‘n I gave that stupid dog half o’ my sandwich ta get it outta my sights ‘til I was done milkin’ the cows. Wasn’ a bad lot of eggs but I went an broke two when the dog kept circlin’ ‘round ma heels spittin’ spit everywhere. It was ma fault though, walkin’ too fast probably. I was on my way ta town for Percy ‘n I noticed his truck. There was a purty young girl ‘bout my age in the seat, ‘n I saw Percy go ‘n kiss her ‘n I wish I didn’.
I got back from town ‘bout seven and had to run miss Duncan’s ripped dress up to Glennie’s ‘fore he went to bed and she warned me if them chickens ever went ‘n ripped her dress ‘gain she was gonna shoot the whole lot o’ em. That’d jus’ give me less work ‘n I wasn’ gonna complain ‘bout that. I run fast up to Glennie’s so I could get home in time ta eat while ma food was warm.
I’s shovelin’ shit afta supper and I’d be lyin’ if I told you I didn’ hear that damn hollerin’ o’er the hill. I don’ usually leave the farm, but I did and I’m damn ashamed I did. I saw tha’ whole group o’ townsfolk, mistah Jackson in there too, all puttin’ tha rope ‘round that girl’s neck ‘nd her eyes all bulgin’ ‘n scared. Now, I didn’ go ‘n tell on Percy, ‘n it wasn’ my business seein’ nothin’ o’ the sort, but I wish I nevah went o’er the hill.