Weerd things happen in th’ werld. Ah’ve seen some really weerd things in my life. But th’ weerdest, though. That ‘ad to‘ve been the summer of ought eight.

Ah was near ‘bout thirty years old. Ah don’t rightly know the exact number a years, cause ah was borned in the country, ‘n Mam ‘n Pap; Well they didn know the year any more ‘n ah did.

Ah kina followed in Pap’s ‘xample, ‘n ah made a farm fer m’self. Ah married Polly soons ah sold m’ first few head a cattle.

Anyways, Polly ‘n me; we had us some young’uns. Ah think it was four ‘r five round bout that time. Not too sure, though. Ah never ‘ve been too good at dates.

Now, where ‘s I? Oh, yeah. Summer of ought eight. Went outside one mornin, and the bob wire fence round my pastsher. It’s knocked right down! Sumpin musta scared them cattle. Normly, they won’t bustta fence. Know ‘t ‘urts. But if’n they’s scared. Well, that’s a whole differnt thing.

Ah’ma guessin’ t’was a woof or a mount’n line. Them big cats – they scream at a pers’n. Right messes with yer mine. Ya thinks its a girl screamin’! But its really th’ cat.

Anyways. Where’s I agin? Oh. Th’ weerd thin’.

Ah’s goin’ out ta’ fix ma fence. Ah’s lookin’ at it ‘n thinkin’ its gonna be a whole days work. Mebby two, ‘n up th’ road. Well, there comes a kid. Looks mebby twenny, but’ee looks fit ‘s a fiddle. He walks upa me, and says, “’Owdy. Looks likes ya got some work needn’ done. Want some hep?”

Ell, ahm not th’ type’a look a gif, hoss n’a mouth, so ah says, “Shore, bit ahm not ebble to pay’a.”

“That’s aright, Mister. ‘F ah cn jest get a sum grub - thet’d be fine.”

“Shore,” ah told’m “Polly’ll fix ‘s up a nice messa grub.”

Now ya gotta unnerstan. This kid. He didn’ talk like me. He seemed; ell, he sounda like one’a them city folk.

We gots to workin’ an he shore waddn’ fraida ‘ard work. He got right in there. Workin’ jest’s hard ‘s enny’n ahd evva worked with.

Round noon, or there ‘bouts. We stops ‘n Polly brought us sum grub fer lunch. The kid sits imself down unner ‘n elm tree ‘n kinda gazes up ‘t it.

Ah warn’t sure ‘t he’s thinkin’, but affer a bit, he looks ‘t me an he asks, “Ever wonner what it’d be like ‘t be a girl?”

Now ahm not shore iffn he was rawt inna ‘ead, but I says to ‘m, “Naw. Can’t rightly say ah ‘ave.”

“Huh,” he says. Et’s all’ee says.

Well, we gits back ‘t work, ‘n round bout dinner time, we’s got it dun.

Polly gets ‘s sum more grub ‘n we eats up, then ‘th kid aks iffen ‘e c’n bed down under th’ old elm fer th’ night. Now ah can’t rightly say no, affer all ‘s hep, so ah tell ‘m shore.

El, ah go on in ‘t th’ ouse, n’ gits reddy fer sum shut eye.

In th’ mornin’ ah goes on out ‘t see ‘ow ee’s doin’. El, ‘ee ain’t ‘ere! Sum girl’s there ‘nstead. Well, she stands up, ‘n yawns, ya know, like she’s really bin sleepin’ ‘ard. She smiles jest ‘s purty ‘s you please, thanks me fer th’ grub ‘n takes off.

Never saw ‘er again. Real weerd though. Al’ays wunnerd what ‘appened to th’ kid. ‘Spose ahl never know.