"Late again," the third-grade teacher said to

You can blame this on my Daddy. The reason

I'm three hours late is Daddy sleeps naked!"

Now Miss Crabtree had taught grammar school for

thirty-some-odd years. So she asked little Sammy

what he meant by that, despite her mounting fears.

Full of grins and mischief, and in the flower of

his youth, little Sammy and trouble were old

friends, but he always told the truth.

"You see, Miss Crabtree, at the ranch we got

this here lowdown coyote.

The last few nights he done et six hens and

killed Ma's best milk goat.

And last night, when Daddy heard a noise out in

the chicken pen, he grabbed his gun and said to Ma,

"That coyote's back again, I'm a gonna git

him!'"

'Stay back, he yelled 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 barrel 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 come sneakin' up behind Daddy.

Then we all looked on plumb helpless, as old

Zeke stuck that cold nose in Daddy's crack!

"Miss Crabtree, we been cleanin' chickens since

three o'clock this mornin'!"