The Haunted Mountain

The reason I despises tarantulas, stinging lizards, and
hydrophobia skunks is because they reminds me so much of Aunt Lavaca,
which my Uncle Jacob Grimes married in a absent-minded moment, when he
was old enough to know better.

That-there woman's voice plumb puts my teeth on aidge, and it has
the same effect on my horse, Cap'n Kidd, which don't generally shy at
nothing less'n a rattlesnake. So when she stuck her head out of her
cabin as I was riding by and yelled "Breck_in_ri-i-idge," Cap'n Kidd
jumped straight up in the air, and then tried to buck me off.

"Stop tormentin' that pore animal and come here," Aunt Lavaca
commanded, whilst I was fighting for my life against Cap'n Kidd's
spine-twisting sun-fishing. "I never see such a cruel, worthless, no-
good--"

She kept right on yapping away until I finally wore him down and
reined up alongside the cabin stoop and said: "What you want, Aunt
Lavaca?"

She give me a scornful snort, and put her hands onto her hips and
glared at me like I was something she didn't like the smell of.

"I want you should go git yore Uncle Jacob and bring him home,"
she said at last. "He's off on one of his idiotic prospectin' sprees
again. He snuck out before daylight with the bay mare and a pack
mule--I wisht I'd woke up and caught him. I'd of fixed him! If you
hustle you can catch him this side of Haunted Mountain Gap. You bring
him back if you have to lasso him and tie him to his saddle. Old fool!
Off huntin' gold when they's work to be did in the alfalfa fields.
Says he ain't no farmer. Huh! I 'low I'll make a farmer outa him yet.
You git goin'."

"But I ain't got time to go chasin' Uncle Jacob all over Haunted
Mountain," I protested. "I'm headin' for the rodeo over to Chawed Ear.
I'm goin' to win me a prize bull-doggin' some steers--"

"Bull-doggin'!" she snapped. "A fine ockerpashun! Gwan, you
worthless loafer! I ain't goin' to stand here all day argyin' with a
big ninny like you be. Of all the good-for-nothin', triflin',
lunkheaded--"

When Aunt Lavaca starts in like that you might as well travel. She
can talk steady for three days and nights without repeating herself,
her voice getting louder and shriller all the time till it nigh splits
a body's eardrums. She was still yelling at me as I rode up the trail
toward Haunted Mountain Gap, and I could hear her long after I
couldn't see her no more.

Pore Uncle Jacob! He never had much luck prospecting, but trailing
around through the mountains with a jackass is a lot better'n
listening to Aunt Lavaca. A jackass's voice is mild and soothing
alongside of hers.