Not Enough Horse Sense to Drive

Pioneer Friday and More Unwanted Changes in Two Pan

Bricker’s been thinkin’ again.  That means hold onto your skirts, a new adventure will beset us. According to him, we need a team of horses.  Not work horses,  mind you. We’ve still got the broken-down oxen we brought over the trail.

from anyjazz 65 collection

No, he wants a team to pull his mining supplies around.  I think it’s because his jackass, Daisy, is smarter than him, so he wants an animal that’s so timid and stupid it believes everything will eat it. An animal that’ll spook at its own shadow.  A horse. Last week, it was a miracle moron horses didn’t kill the Woolsey children.

Mrs. Patricia Woolsey was driving her wagon back from Elgin  where she’d been visiting her sister.  Her two small children, Walt, and Elias were in the back.  They were four miles out of town when a gust of wind blew Mrs. Woolsey’s parasol onto the road. (She’s from Nebraska and too fancypants to wear a useful sunbonnet).

She hauled the horses to a stop, handed the lines to her six-year-old, Walt, and climbed out to get her parasol.

Well, what else would you expect a child to do, but shake the reins? Of course, the horses started up.  Mrs. Woolsey’s petticoats fouled her step and she wasn’t able to hop in the rig before it got going. (Maybe this will teach her not to get so dolled up just to go visiting kin.)

In a quarter of a mile, those horses were flying the downgrade to Two Pan. The wagon was bouncing in the air at every crossing. Roxie and Icel Poley saw the team race by their place, and expected, “that wagon to turn over and smash to pieces with every bump.”

Somehow little Walt hung onto the reins until opposite the Hopkins place, then he was thrown out.  They say he only showed some bruises and no serious hurt.

Those horses kept going until they reached the our place, two and half miles distant from where they started. Both wheels on one side of the wagon had broke off, and both axletrees were dragging and thumping the ground.

That hat would make anyone faint.

When the horses were stopped, the other child was still sitting in the back of the rig.  Less than a year old, little Elias wasn’t even crying and only bruised from rolling in the bottom of the buckboard like a beer barrel.

Patricia Woolsey fainted dead away after it was all over. Good thing her kids are knit from her husband’s iron constitution, and free of her lacy bones.

Bricker’s going over there tomorrow; he figures he can get a team cheap. He can have ‘em.  Me?  I’ll take the slow, intelligent jackass.

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About Barb

I escaped from a hardscrabble farm in Oklahoma. I'm not sure why people think I have an accent. I miss the sunshine, but not the fried foods.
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17 Responses to Not Enough Horse Sense to Drive

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  5. Spectra says:

    Oh, that darned Patricia Woolsey and her lacy bones! (which sort of reminds me of the time Alec Baldwins character, Jack. D., on 30 Rock, dated a woman with ABS, Avian Bone Syndrome – she claimed she had hollow bones which prevented her from having intimate relations)

    Of course this passage is only a few paragraphs, but has me very involved. As always, funny and well written 😀

    Like

  6. Elisabeth Miles says:

    Creative historian, my bustle. I happen to know that ever word she writes is the plain, unvarnished truth. Why, nobody could make up the stuff she yarns on about. Horses may be the beauties of the equine world, but,believe you me they are like my daughter-in-law’s Golden: About as much intelligence and pressure boiled lettuce.

    Like

  7. Big smiles. Though my smaller portion swears that horses are malevelolent. He says that if you go to the spot of a single vehicle fatality you will find a horse in a nearby field ‘peacefully’ grazing. He says that the horses leap out in front of the vehicle, causing it to swerve and crash. Mission accomplished, they go back to grazing.

    Like

  8. momaescriva says:

    I like that the kids are “knit from Bricker’s iron constitution! I also want to know how you got them there dang horses to plop along in yer story!

    Like

    • Barb says:

      Moma, Alice, first you put on your horse trader pants and start bargaining for the nags. I’m surprised you haven’t seen the horse droppings throughout all of my posts.

      Like

  9. Alice Lynn says:

    Two Pan must have been the most happening place this side of the Rocky Mountains! Either that or you are one creative historian. Now, where the heck did you get those little horses to pull that wagon over and over again? You know, the little guys at the side of your story.

    Like

  10. Roxie says:

    I don’t know if it’s such a good idea for Bricker to get a team. I mean, first you gotta be smarter than one horse. Then you gotta be smart enough to harness ’em. THEN, you gotta be smart enough to drive ’em. I just don’t know about Bricker. I mean, last time you introduced him as your first husband, he got the most confused look on his face. . . .

    You sure can tell a story, though. Thank God the children are tough. They got good stories to tell their grandkids.

    Like

    • Barb says:

      Of course, Roxie, I’d expect a gal of your caliber to understand “horse sense.” When a fella is a horse whisperer, all he does is blow into the vacuous cavity between the horse’s ears.

      Like

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