Explore "The 'Possum Hunt" by Payson Sibley Wild on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
"Four Mile" was jes' kind o' googlin' along / (It ketches the Skillet in "Thirty-three" / Whar the woods is thick an' the moon ain't strong, / An' the 'possum hides in a holler tree); / 'T was shimmerin' thar all gold an' bright / Ez we loafed threw the medder thet Awtum night.
We'd et a light supper-sow belly, corn bread, / Pickled beets, fried eggs an' two kinds o' pie- / When Bill, sort o' cazuel, shoved back an' said, / A-squintin' aloft at a perfec' sky: / "S a pretty good night fer coons; so still / Yer kin hear yer heart when yer've clum up hill."