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McFay rolled into his bunk, having nothing more to add to the evening's entertainment.


          The regular evening's session of story telling from the "deacon's seat" was in full swing again this evening. Swan Gullickson, a tall Norwegian, held the seat of honor. "Yentleman", he was saying, "dis bane true story, I tell you. Many bluffs stand by my hame, so high dat I skal not see the sun afore de clock go round, so de dam' hand stand at clock dree. So de dark coom, but gude Scandahoovian man is not afraid for dark.
          Yust four mile from my house live bunch of dose Irishers, who are very queer, you know. Val, you see, dis here golly hey talk some bad t'ings about. De Irishers call it de hanted golly and it hey bad name. I say, 'by yiminy, dis dam' banshee cat. I am not scare for fear.'
          Some of my Tronjam people dat coom from de fjords and de rock boun' coast of Norway, bane dam' gude fellows yust de same, but dey skal say to me, `Gullickson, you vatch dem Irishers.' Val, I don't know,                                                                             .


yen a man is deat he is deat, but de Irisher, yen he is deat, you skal hey to vatch him dree nights yet and den you ain't sure.
          Val, dis big Irisher hey cow and calf for sell. He stan' by my house to town, so he meet gude fellas in tavern, who help him yolly oop de panga for his cow and calf. Val, about clock two in morning, I hear some bad noise in dark road. My Christene, she say, 'Swan, I tink I hear Banshee cat cry! She was pretty scare for fear. Val, I hear so much about dose Leprachaun fairies and banshees dat belong to de Irish people, I skal say, I vas scare for fear. But I yump my shoulders, and Christene holler, 'Swan, you stay in hame, I skal die har, dis banshee cry'.

          Val, I call my dog Ole, he bane gude dog too but he bane awful scare too. He no gude, he so scare. His tail bane so tight between his leg, he bane hey no tail. Dis blood of mine, coom running long tam, from viking king and god Thor, so I say, Ton Stracha', I vill not fear for dam and I rush out. Val, I hey as gude eye as any yumping Scandahoovian. Dis banshee cat, she lean on fence. She hey hair on forehead, plenty long hair under nose, lak                                                                             .


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The Hodag and Other Tales of the Logging Camps, Written by Lake Shore Kearney
(Madison, WI: Democrat Printing Press, 1928) Original Text and Illustrations Public Domain License.
Copyright © 2006-2014 Thrill Land.