A Squirrely Story from Papaw Stone

Hello folks, let’s chat… I come from a long line of story-tellers, and some of the best ones I ever heard came from my Papaw Stone in Natchez, Mississippi. Papaw was a big story-teller, and a big squirrel hunter. The two usually went hand in hand. Papaw is squirrel hunting in heaven these days, but his stories will live on as long as I can do anything about it.

For instance, Papaw loved to tell about the time he ran into a stranger while squirrel hunting in the woods behind his house. It was a beautiful day, but at least for Papaw, it had been a very unsuccessful hunt. He was headed home empty-handed when he crossed paths with a stranger. The man was wearing a big brown hat pulled down so far over his ears it hid most of his face and he was carrying several nice-size grey squirrels in each hand. The stranger barely returned Papaw’s greeting. That wasn’t so uncommon. There were a lot of interesting people living up in those woods that liked to keep to themselves. The man would’ve gone on his way had Papaw’s curiosity not gotten the better of him.

“Excuse me, buddy,” Papaw said. “I couldn’t help noticing you aren’t carrying a shotgun. How’d you kill those squirrels without a gun?” Papaw said the man looked up and removed his hat, revealing what could possibly have been the ugliest face my grandfather had ever laid eyes on. Papaw tried hard not to stare. “If you must know,” the man said. “When I see a squirrel, I just take my hat off and scare ‘em to death.”

By this time, most people would have realized Papaw was telling one, but that never stopped ‘em from getting a kick out of his punch line. “Poor fellow,” Papaw would say. “He told me he used to bring his wife along but she tore them squirrels up so bad they couldn’t use ‘em!”
Hugs,
Shellie