OK, Walt. You've got to pull on my other leg because you've got me walking in circles.
Farm life in the '40s was like nothing at all today. Here's one that had me as the patsy when I was 8 years old:
There was an apple tree on the "house side" of a barbed wire fence. Moos
love apples. They were on the other side of the fence. So I'd wander over to the apple tree and pick a few apples to throw at the cows.
It was like throwing candy to kids. Even if I reared back and thumped a cow amidships with an apple, the moo would just spin to gobble it up.
OOOH-Kay. Stage is set.
Here goes Himself, over to the fence one day with rifle in hand. I had spotted a woodchuck on the far side of the field and it was my job to shoot them and cover up the holes. Moos are beyond stooopid, and will step right in a hole and break a leg. Bad ju-ju.
I was easing slowly across the field, sneaking up to where I could get a good shot.
Something... suddenly didn't feel right. I turned around and
YIIKES!
Here came the whole fargin herd of cows, runnin' flat out and not ten feet from me before I saw them, all of them trying to get to me first!!
...for some apples!
Well, it took two seconds (that's a long dang time under the circumstances!) for me to realize the situation... and terror turned to hilarity.
All the moos came skidding to a stop all around me like 1200-pound puppies.
The hunt was off, and I went back across the field with my entourage, climbed over the fence and nailed dam' near every one of them with apples.
