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Miss Macbee, Set Me Free!

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Hold my face in the pale moon light til' dawn. The light my mind, simply spoken. "Miss Macbee, set me free," the little pukes hold a rhyme so funny I reckon' ol' dead Herald might crawl from his six foot deep holiday to aid the restless laughter. Better off dead, I would have killed him myself for a greatly golden anniversary if I hadn't dulled the damn shovel diggin' holes for these next. Herald wouldn't of wanted to been around anyway, he would of already shotten these fine folk tied to the far maple. His tempter used to be shorter then a kitten last with a grizzly when townsfolk felt they needed to meddle. Rigged em' up myself this morning after I seen them rummaging through my property. Harold would have wanted this, even his being deader than dirt. The east river is my crossin' point. You feel the gamble to run that line, I hope you can dodge a shell from this trusty bird-gun. I suppose me, Miss Macbee, is a bit bitter actin' at these. They probably just looking to snatch up some corn to feed. Ha! Maybe nay! I fire a shot at the maple. I work this land and run the river, you ingore my postings you call death! Look at the maggots, scared! I just took a hearty chunk out the left side, maybe a bit out that hornet home. I want you dead I'd make you holler to me when to squeeze the rusty trigger. You'd be rightly thankful. If you didn't say nothin' then I might let my rottie out to chase. I don't feed that tick-ridden hound when I have such company, so he'd be rightly thankful too. I'm gonna string up some linens to dry within spittin' distance of the three trespassers, figurin' on teaching some manners when I'm through. The breeze and blazin' sun sets just right for them to flap round' and get dry right quick. Leanin' my bird-gun down, them scoundrels try to finding out whose around them, stupid, blindfolded, half naked-starved pigs. I neglected gave them grub since they tied. Figure they don't need any if they ain't workin' or walkin'. My old bones cryin' as I reaching for some pins to fasten the linens. I swung up my bird-gun and started for the patchy maple. My gun shells smile a glissin' grin when they sees the men runnin' round' like mangy mutts on a tie down when they hear the ground crunchin' beneath my garden boots. I say hello, and they best repeat the words that follow.
"Miss Macbee, set me free!"
"Miss Macbee, set me free!"
"Miss Macbee, set me free!"
They alls do, but in no such loud respect. Ha! I smile at the puppets! They choose to dim the quiet once I start to firing by the dirt at their feet! I must have not tightened the iron sights accordingly, seein' I gave too much right and took one at his ankle. I kicked the severed limb on the grass case they were hungry. That pest lies churnin' on the dirt in pain. The two upright fools kept to pullin' on their ropes like their gettin' somewhere.
"Miss Macbee set me free!" They all yelled as one.
Ha! You want to leave I will see your wager! I whistled, my rottie came a runnin'. Wasn't of five seconds after unriggin' the wounded varmint that he takes off too the cotton. Rottie was on in chase and had he on the weeds when his limp fell in a whistle pig hole. I see a struggle, and laugh when he gets away only to go straight down in short steps. I shoulder my bird-gun and take to the house for tea. Sittin' on the porch I start to cleanin' and oiling since I had been shootin' not long before. Not to long after I just claimed my second cup if tea my rottie comes trottin' back down the grass lane, mouth drippin' of blood and fur entrappin' throat flesh. He retires under the porch steppin' tired from chase. Resting in my rocker with a sight-repaired bird-gun in lap, I closed my eyes trying at a nap. I awaken to a noise escapin' from the toolshed, and directly investigate. I raise my gun from the porch and set the sites across the way to see another! I fired! He fell into the pig water and dropped the cattle rope he was makin' to run off with. I sit back down in the rocker and add a shell. I see the marker where Herald now lay off in the distance. I reckon' he is right fine with me protectin' what land we used to share. Ain’t nobody gonna take advantage of me and my husban’! I raise my gun and fire away!
“Miss Macbee, set me free!”
“Miss Macbee, set me free!”
“Miss Macbee, set me free!”
“Miss Macbee, set me free!” I hollered til’ Herald hollered back!
My porch ceilin’ all shot up now, I’ll have to cross patches in the morning.
Oh Herald! These poor souls dare cross our land!
Oh Herald! I’m gonna shot them limb from limb til’ their skin is small as sand!
Ah! I’m as good poet as they, “Miss Macbee, set me free,” is what they like to sing. I demand it at the barrel of a gun! I call up ol’ rottie, he comes running accordingly. I raise my gun and give him one. A dog that have taste the blood can’t be trust. The darkness falls, another night! I hear them movin’ round the tree. I run to the shed to find some nails and rip some scrap sticks from behind the old barn. I drive three nails and a cross appears. One is done, I set it up. Tonight’s the night! Them all will fall! I drive more nails two crosses done appear! I run some paint and set them fast, their heads will roll in near!
“Miss Macbee, set me free!”
“Miss Macbee, set me free!”
Set you free I will! To the grave you all will fall! Cross my land you beg to death, “Take me I need it all!”
I dig a triple trench, a new home for they, I throw in my rottie for food. For when they falls into the ground tonight, they will feast in celebration!
“Miss Macbee, set me free!”
They hollerin’ when they hear me firin’ into the moon! I’m comin’ down to the maple now, best me prayin’ quick! My linens are hang, and they makin’ noise as I crunch the ground in near. They run around and get caught right quick when the rope comes back in snap. Foolish bred are these, you will not live another night! I raise my gun and fires a shot into the dirt I see a leg. He falls to ground and begs my name,
“Miss Macbee, set me free!”
Set you free I will!
He roll and tumble, I bet Herald can hear him now! I give him another in the chin! Kick the beast while he’s down! I load another. I fire away into his gut this day! HA! He crossed my line and paid his due!
Them fools townsfolk! You got your last! There ain’t no way your comin’ out alive tonight! I see my last, he can’t see me a circlin’ around. He hears my boots, I hear him tears!
“Miss Macbee, set me free!”
“Miss Macbee, set me free!”
“Miss Macbee, set me free!”
“Miss Macbee, set me free!”
“Miss Macbee, set me free!”
“Miss Macbee, set me free!”
“I sware on my grave you ain’t have to do this here! I’m not like them others!”
Ha! You curse on your grave, a mistaken thought you run dear boy! I am the one with the loaded bird-gun. I step in close; I see his sweat fall of his brows and splashin’. I whisper in his hear, the end is near!
His breath draw heavy. I smile and laughs. Alls a suddenly, I look down and see a sharp stickin’ run through my back! He splint a bone, from a past lost soul who crossed my river and paid! I fall to my knees and all he speak was “Miss Macbee, set me free!”





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