Ye Olde Tale of de Commencement of de Weddin Journy

Say fine companions, I tell thee a story of my travels so far as of this dark soggy eve. Lend an ear if ye may have the time and will to do so. I received word by means of a fine peddler peddling copper pans, pots, and pails of the wedding and following picnic of Miss. Christy Kurtz of the Massachusetts colony. Formerly of the New York colony, and ever a brave soul often found to wander abouts the Tennessee frontiers for several yeers of her girlhood. As I would have fear of many other maidens in that hostile land, but Miss Kurtz has been known to hold her own in a hatchet throw, and mingles well with the Natives oft times being spyed to wear those

dreadful abominations upon her feet known to some as mokkasens.



So being informed as of this day, and less than four and one half fortnites before the joyus occashun and my due time to arrive upon de Maine Territory, (I no less fear I do not understand her draw to these far and dreary territories, but never to speak such things am I commonly to be) I dropped my plow, filled my haversack nigh full of hardtack, and cast my GreatCoat upon my shoulders (and a great coat it may also be.) and lept upon the back of my fair mare Tory. (Now a tory she nay not be, but a fine rebel indeed.) I trotted north easterly over all civilized trails of dae New York colony (at a perfect post I may add)

until the woods thickened with fir and began to grow rocky and of a fair steepness. I are't to see that I traveled ouert the land of the savage Mohawk. Aye it be fearful. But I knew Tory to be fleet of feet and sound of steady mind, so I proceed onward where other men dare not to be. Oft less in times of such as this.

Suddenly my own mare's ears begin to twitch ot ay sound in near bushs. I see the Mohawk party and nare escape with my scalp and life, as Tory puts many furlongs between us and the savage british allies.

I be of much kind luck they never ride, but walk at all times. Never de less, my stocking was to be lost in the briars. I do not believe that I could leave my fair settlement alongs the banks of Little River and be absent of a kneesock with no observance of such? Nay my mind be better than that! Aft long day and late eve of riding in steady rains, I be secure to be out of the Mohawks grasp for the dark and a time of rest till de morn. So thy sincere writer was to hobble his mount, find his camp and spark a fire, savor a lean meal of hardtack, and eagerly pull his laptop from his haversack to log his fair and honest tale on ye olde site of ye blogger, as de shadows flickered in de Aspenglow...... Miss. Christy, and Mr. Barry, ye nay not know all I art to have to face over de long treacherous trail to Maine territory but I be looking forward to thy wedding very much so, ... and de viddles truth be told...

DE ENDE