“In her left hand she carried an old flour sack bulging with crawdads, and, from time to time, she would pause, set the sack down, and glance inside. “Oh, you’re gonna be good eatin’!” Reaching inside, she picked up a large crawdad, more than four inches long, and held it by its hard shell. She put her forefinger carefully in front of him, and when he pinched her, she squealed and jerked away. “You’re gonna be good eatin’ tonight, so just make up your mind to that.” Dropping the crustacean b...ack into the bag, she tied a knot in the top and began to sing as she approached the house: “Muskrat, muskrat, what makes your back so slick? I’ve been livin’ in the water all my life There’s no wonder I’m sick I’m sick, I’m sick, I’m sick. “Rooster, rooster, what makes your spurs so hard? I’ve been scratchin’ in the barnyard all my life There’s no wonder I’m tired I’m tired, I’m tired, I’m tired.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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