Moe & Gertie: Continued Correspondence

Gertie replies to Moe's letter in the 12/7/22 PCN

Dear Moe,

Horace flew the coop. I didn't think he'd ever get shet of his mother's apron strings. Mamie, next door was working in her garden and heard the whole shouting match. Horace told his mother he was going to buy a new car and she blew a gasket. You know what a penny-pincher she is, She figured he could just keep on driving his dad's old rattletrap. You know it's older than the hills. And anyway it wasn't her money he's spending; he's old enough, being past forty and of sound mind and body. I guess he was plain fed up with her paltry ways. And about time, I'd say.

Glad you went to see Granpa Mac; though he's really none of our kin, everybody roundabouts calls him that. What is he now?Over ninety I'd guess.

Which brings to mind a story old Tex told about his growing up years in Texas. You know he's living with his daughter Maude here in Cornburg. He has some tall tales to tell; maybe not all true but I think this one is.

The way he tells it is when he and his brothers were youngsters, they practiced their roping skills on anything that moved which in turn, branched out to ropin' coyotes. They had a goodly amount of hides stretched out on the shed while thoughts of selling danced in their heads.

So after chores were done one morning they mounted their steeldust ponies and went on the hunt. They spied a coyote and twirling their ropes took after him. He ran and they, hot on his heels saw he was headed down the arroyo where Widow Burns lived. Some wary, because of her shotgun's notoriety but sorely intent on getting that coyote they pursued the cuss; they saw that the door to her cabin was open and pulled up; the coyote didn't. He ran right in. Emboldened by the fact that no sound of voice nor gun issued forth they peered in. "He shore made a mess of her bed, he chuckled.

Suddenly the braying of a mule caught their attention and they saw the Widow riding up the trail on her old gray mule. "The coyote streaked out and we taken out of there like the devil himself was after us. Don't know how come her door was open. Not likely she'd leave it open in rattlesnake country. But we shore didn't stick around to ask. And I'll tell you what, us boys rode a long ways around and away from her cabin for a long time after that.”

I heard that Sadie Schmidt is awful sick. Annabelle wrote to her cousin Sylvie but seeing as how that Sylvie hasn't come home in the last ten years, who knows what she will do. And Sadie being such a saintly soul. Well, we'll see what happens.

Clem went on a toot last week. He's plumb wore out his welcome at my place. He'll have to find another relative to sponge off of if he stays around Cornburg.

My radio went on the fritz; until I get a new one I'm going to miss the music yours truly really likes. I could fairly swoon when I hear Wilf Carter singing his Lonesome Cattle Call. All of them Carter family sings really good. And Grand Ol Opry!I 'specially like Minnie Pearl. Do you still strum your guitar? We had some good times singing those old ballads, whist I could remember the words and the tune to Barbara Allen. And Down in the Valley valley so low, hang your head over, hear the wind blow...

Don't suppose you have much chance to yodel anymore. That Cowboy yodeling was pleasuresome to hear. There's a trick to that; I did onct upon a time but as they say, if you don't use it,

you lose it. So long for this time.

Gertie

The author of these letters is longtime Phillips County resident Betty Munson. Munson wrote these letters while she was a resident at Havre's Eagles Manor. The characters in these letters are entirely fictional. Please enjoy!