Rip-Tail Roarers - Clever Sayings and Brags

"Life is short and full of blisters," sighed the elderlycame down to the levee to watch the goings
southern gentlemen as we exchangedon.Dad always took along a plug of chewing
confidences about our various problems.Thattobacco to pass around and loosen the tongues
seemed to sum up our mutual outlook on theof the old-timers. It didn't take much. I got to
vagaries of human existence, so we shook handskeep the little, tin, brand tags on the plugs - such
and went our separate ways.That succinctas "Tin Star," "Red Coon," and "Bull of the
sentence has returned to memory often since IWoods." They were prized collectibles."You boys
first heard it several years ago - partly becauseremember any of the old brags?" Dad would say,
of its homey philosophy, but mostly because it isas he stuffed in a chaw of terbakker. Then I
a draught of cool water to this writer who hassnapped to attention. One brag I remember went
wandered long in a language desert searching forsomething like this:"I'm half horse, half alligator,
oasises.I have come to realize that the colorfulwith a little touch of snapping turtle, clumb a
language of my youth in the South has nearlystreak of lightning, slid down a locust tree a
disappeared from the American scene. We speakhundred feet high, with a wildcat under each arm,
in precise phrases, short sentences, business-likeand never got a scratch. Whoopee-yip-ho!"I come
declarations. Efficient, but drab.When I wasto this country riding a catamount, whipping him
growing up "down home" it was common forover the head with a forty-five and picking my
folks to sprinkle their conversation withteeth with a rattlesnake, using a cactus for a piller.
colloquialisms. "Shoveling smoke," or "Money thinksWhe-e-e! I'm a two-gun cuss and a very bad
I'm dead," or "A day late, and a dollar short," orman, and it won't do to monkey with me.
"If they put your brains in a jaybird, it'd flyWhoopee! "I was raised in the backwoods, suckled
backwards."What we need are more inventiveby a grizzly bear, got nine rows of jaw teeth and
talkers - like my Uncle Hooky Brown. Heholes punched for more, a double coat of hair,
appreciated the fine points of discourse.Hookysteel ribs, boiler tube intestines, a barbed wire tail,
dearly loved clerking in the general store atand I don't give a damn where I drag it.
Bradford, Tennessee. He built up a big tradeWhoopee-wee-a-ha!"* * *Frontiersmen took great
because he was the best entertainment that sidepride in their personal yells, or brags, elaborating
of the Mississippi.At the conclusion of each sale,on them through the years. Generally they were
while sacking items purchased, he rattled off - ingiven preliminary to good-natured "tussling" or
one breath -- a long list of improbableroughhousing.Brags also were a way of
commodities the customer might have forgottenannouncing their presence at a strange saloon
to order. It was a symphony of dialog in a minutewhere they wanted to make friends quickly. A
waltz:"Thank you kindly, Miz Boone, and will therecreative brag usually was rewarded with a free
be anything elsebeer.A bar room sally went something like
sblackeyedpeasprunessealingwaxthis:"Hey, look at me! I'm the genuine article, a real
polishfurniturepolishsilverpolishdouble-acting engine. I'm a hard customer that can
ermintstickcheeseclothneedleslick any man here. If you don't believe it, step up
flowerseedssidemeatbuckshot or button hooks?"and try me. I can out-run, out-jump, out-swim,
The spiel varied - depending on the customer'schaw more tabaccy and spit less, drink more
sense of humor. It was fun to try and figure outwhiskey and keep soberer, than any man in these
what he was trying to get you to buy. You figurelocalities. Come out some of you and die decently,
it out.Once in awhile he would get caught by hisfor I'm spieling fer a fight."* * *The best roarers
tomfoolery. A sly customer would reply, "Why,were river men who drifted up and down the
yes, now that you mention it. I'll have a dozenMississippi without calling any place home until they
corset stays.""Yes, Mam," Hooky would saygot too old to haul a hawser. Once I heard this
without hesitation. "We're fresh out just thismagnificent boast at the Caruthersville
morning. I'll have a box of them for youlevee:"Yah-hoo! I'm the old original iron-jawed,
tomorrow. Would you care to make a ten-dollarbrass-mounted, copper-bellied corpse-maker from
deposit?"* * *Salty talkers in the olden daysthe wilds of Arkansaw. They call be Sudden
abounded everywhere. Hey-day of "rip-tailDeath and General Desolation. "Sired by a
roarers" had nearly vanished in my childhood ashurricane. Damn'd by an earthquake. Half-brother
regular fare. Nonetheless, we kids in small,to the cholera. Nearly related to the small pox on
southern towns could still coax old-timers to recitemy mother's side. "Look at me! I take nineteen
the brags and yells they learned as young ranchalligators and a bar'l of whiskey for breakfast
hands, lumberjacks or riverboat stevedores.Roarswhen I'm in robust health, and a bushel of
once were the fashion among rough, hardworkingrattlesnakes and a dead body when I'm ailing. I
men. They made a dent in my youthfulsplit the everlasting rocks with my glance, and I
memory.When I was nine, at Caruthersville,squench the thunder when I speak.
Missouri, my father would take me to the leveeWhoo-op!"Stand back and give me room
at the foot of Main Street to watch the Mississippiaccording to my strength. Blood's my natural
cotton boats tie up for cotton bales.When theredrink, and the wails of the dying is music to my
was loading, the good old boys -- who usuallyears. Cast your eyes on me, gentlemen.
whiled away the time around the courthouse --