The woman fealt him going she said, “Dont you fancy me no mor?”
He said, “It aint that its jus Ive overwent my self I think Iwl res a littl now.”
She said, “I think youwl res a littl longern you think.”
He said, “Whyre you looking at me that way who be you and whats your name?”
She said, “Who I am is Auntys saymling sister and my name is Arga Warga.”
When the bloak heard that he tryd to run but he wer that woar out he cudnt move and she jumpt on him and et him up. From then on they callit that place Hagmans Il.
Time back when Wayman Footling tol me that story I askit him, “Be that realy how that place got its name?”
He said, “No not realy. There use to be a fents there it ben Hogmans Kil Fents befor it be come Hagmans Il.”
I said, “Why wer it callit Hogmans Kil?”
He said, “Bloak namit Hogman he wer the Big Man they use to make pots there. Hogmans Killen wer what it wer but every body callit Hogmans Kil.”
I said, “Howd it get to be Hagmans Il tho?”
He said, “Hogman had a fight with his wife and she kilt him.”
I said, “O that musve ben why they callit Hogmans Kil then.”
He said, “No it ben callit Hogmans Kil befor she done him in. After she done it they callit Hagmans Il. Becaws she ben a rough and ugly old woman and it come to il he marrit her.”
I said, “Then whered the other story come from? The 1 of the bloak as got on top of Aunty.”
He said, “It come in to my mynd.”
I said, “You mean you made it up.”
He said, “Wel no I dint make it up you cant make up nothing in your head no moren you can make up what you see. You know what I mean may be what you see aint all ways there so you cud reach out and touch it but its there some kynd of way and it come from some where. That place Hagmans Il I use to wunner about it every time we come by it til finely that story come in to my head. That story cudnt come out of no where cud it so it musve come out of some where. Parbly it ben in that place from time back way back or may be in a nother place only the idear of it come to me there. That dont make no odds. That storys jus what ever it is and thats what storys are.”
1ce we got a good offing from Bernt Arse we come down be twean Brabbas Horn and Sel Out Form. They ben manooring ther arrabl we wer smelling cow shit on all sides of us. We come on to the A20 then which the Ram hevvys all ways roadit that track be twean Bernt Arse and Fork Stoan but I wernt looking for nothing to be moving on it this nite.
After a wyl the wind easit off and there come thunner and litening. Meat smoak in the rain and fires we cudnt get warm at. It snuck me how soon that come to seam the naturel way of things it fealt like I ben roading in the rainy dark with Lissener and them dogs for years. Yet when the litening flasht and Iwd see all them dog backs wet and shyning in the rain then it wer like a dream.
1ce Lissener said to me, “Dyou have the gethering dream?”
I said, “Whats that?”
He said, “Its where theres all the many nor there aint no end to you there aint no place where you begin nor leave off. Mountins of us valleys of us far far lans and countrys of us. Tits and bellys it wud take you days to walk acrost. Girt roun bums and arms and legs all jynt big and long and long and girt jynt man and woman parts all mullerplying back to gether all what ben de vydit. No mor oansome in the gethering. No mor edge where you leave off and the nex begins jus all of us as far as you can see with all the eyes of us it dont matter whose eyes youre looking out of you dont nead none of your oan. You have that dream?”
I said, “No we have the ½ dream.”
He said, “Whats that?”
I said, “It aint a parper dream realy its a fealing comes on you when youre falling a sleap. Youre jus going off easy when suddn its like a bersting in you like youre bersting in 1000 peaces then you come a wake with your hart going fas.”
He said, “Funny. It ben the Puter Leat give you that dream yet we dont have it our self.”
It realy glitcht my cool how he said that. He dint even have no parper face on the front of his head. Him the Puter Leat. I said, “What ben the Puter Leat any how?”
He said, “What Goodparley calls Eusas head which it ben a girt box of knowing and you hook up peopl to it thats what a puter ben. We ben the Puter Leat we had the woal worl in our mynd and we had worls beyont this in our mynd we progammit pas the sarvering gallack seas WE PROGAMMIT THE GIRT DANTS OF THE EVERY THING. WE RUN THE BLUE THE RED THE YELLER WE RUN THE RED THE BLACK WE RUN THE SEED OF THE RED AND SEED OF THE BLACK. WE RUN THE MANY COOLS OF ADDOM AND THE PARTY COOLS OF STOAN. HART OF THE WUD AND STOMP YOUR FOOT. 1 AND 2 AND SHAKE OF THE HORNS AND 1 AND 2 AND SPLIT OF THE SHYNING…”
