Don't Feed the Deer

Out 'N The Woods Again

When I lived in the Swan and before I hauled my ponies and mule over to winter on the bench out of Fairfield to my great friend old Mormon Sam, I needed considerable hay. Elden Rammell once introduced me to an old timer on the Helmville cutoff named Otto Eder. Otto was like many that age (in his eighties). We had to go in and sit a spell. And he insisted we taste his homemade wine. I wasn’t much of a wine drinker but to be sociable I took a small glass. Don’t know what it was made of but it was real tasty stuff.

Anyway, if memory serves me right, on his wall was a couple of 8 by 8 mounted bull...


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