Late again," the third-grade teacher said to little Sammy.
> > "It ain't my fault this time, Miss Crabtree. You can blame this'un on
> > my Daddy. The reason I'm three hours late is my Daddy sleeps naked!"
> >
> > Now, Miss Crabtree had taught grammar school for
> > thirty-some-odd years. Despite her mounting fears, she
> > asked little Sammy what he meant by that.
> >
> > Full of grins and mischief, and in the flower of his youth, little
> > Sammy and trouble were old friends, but he always told her the truth.
> >
> > "You see, Miss Crabtree, out at the ranch we got this here low
> > down coyote. The last few nights, he done ate six hens and killed Ma's
> > best milk goat. Last night, when Daddy heard a noise out
> > in the chicken pen, he grabbed his shot gun and said to Ma,
> > "That coyote's back again, I'm a gonna git him!''
> >
> > "Stay back, he whispered to all us kids!"
> >
> > "He was naked as a jaybird, no boots, no pants, no shirt!
> > To the hen house he crawled, just like an Injun on the snoop.
> > Then, he stuck that double barreled 12 gauge shot gun
> > through the window of the coop."
> >
> > "As he stared into the darkness, with coyotes on his mind, our
> > old hound dog, Zeke, had done woke up and comes sneaking'
> > up behind Daddy. Then, as we all looked on, plumb helpless,
> > old Zeke stuck his cold nose in Daddy's crack!"
> >
> > "Miss Crabtree, we all been cleanin' chickens
> > since three o'clock this mornin'!"