{"id":5075,"date":"2016-02-17T14:30:37","date_gmt":"2016-02-17T19:30:37","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.drslewis.org\/camille\/?p=5075"},"modified":"2020-01-22T21:59:20","modified_gmt":"2020-01-23T02:59:20","slug":"hermes-and-an-honest-babbo","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.drslewis.org\/camille\/2016\/02\/17\/hermes-and-an-honest-babbo\/","title":{"rendered":"Hermes, the Patron of Businessmen, and the Best Policies of an Honest Babbo"},"content":{"rendered":"
\"Please
Please welcome again our guest blogger, Daisy Lee Archibald, a story-teller from the Wiregrass. She asks that you judge her words as a work of fiction.<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n

Well now I haven\u2019t seen you in a coon\u2019s age. How are ya? Come on in here. I was just getting ready for the Women on Mission luncheon. Makin’ my hummin’bird cake. Have you had that? Now do not tell me you haven\u2019t. No good Southern cook leaves that out of the repertoire. Surely your mama has made it. You can help me ice the layers.<\/p>\n

Can you believe this weather? I thought tornados in the summer were bad enough, but an ice storm? It already nipped the forsythia.<\/p>\n

I hope you\u2019re not back for some of my strawberry preserves because I am tellin’ you it\u2019s all gone. Every last jar. I tried to make more this summer than last but my arthritis was just a-flarin’ so bad.<\/p>\n

How\u2019s your mama? That\u2019s good to hear. Old friends are the best friends, you know. And your sister? Has she got babies now? Do you have any pictures on your contraption there? Let me get my glasses . . . .<\/p>\n

My grandson is always showin’ me things on his gizmo, and I tell you I can\u2019t even focus on it proper. But I still like to see what I can.<\/p>\n

I like pictures I can hold and pin to my ice box. Like those up there. From the regular old-fashioned mail. Isn\u2019t she a lovely thing? Look at those curls! Just a princess.<\/p>\n

It\u2019s sure nice of Sal to send them to me even though we have no relation whatsoever<\/a><\/strong>. I guess he\u2019s proud of his little family. He\u2019s a kind man, I gather. Powerful, now. But kind, just the same. I think he\u2019s happy.<\/p>\n

He\u2019s happy ’cause he\u2019s honest. A little princess will do that to a man.<\/p>\n

You know what I read about him in the paper last year? I kid you not \u2014 Supreme Court Justice Anthony Kennedy actually sent this little princess a leather-bound, pocket-size copy of the U.S. Constitution with her name embossed on it in 24k gold. Like it was the Holy Scriptures or somethin’. I declare. . . .<\/p>\n

That\u2019s right \u2014 you and I were talking about Sal last time<\/a><\/strong>, weren\u2019t we? You need to come more often! Oh dear me, now isn\u2019t that a coincidence? I remember now. Here I go tellin’ stories again. That is not what I want to be known for.<\/p>\n

I guess, when you\u2019re here in this big ol\u2019 empty place and livin’ alone after having a house-full, I guess you do prattle on like I do.<\/p>\n

That\u2019s right \u2014 we were talking about brothers and turkeys last time<\/a><\/strong>. Mmm-mmm that was one good turkey that Christmas.<\/p>\n

Two turkey brothers preenin’ and feudin’ . . . . Sal doesn\u2019t really mention my friend anymore. I s\u2019pose he has completely molted now after puffin’ up his feathers to his brother. But he\u2019s at least got his health, I s\u2019pose.<\/p>\n

Theirs was supposed to be a dream, a family dream. Jet-settin\u2019 and fine-dinin\u2019 and antique-buyin\u2019 \u2014 even if it was tee-totalin\u2019. So they say. They were going to be “co-presidents.” Such fools, those boys. His sister is so sick. And his brother \u2014 the feudin\u2019 brother \u2014 is just gone. Absent. Poof! Never to be found. Like the turkey got run over by a truck and the buzzards took over.<\/p>\n

Vanished.<\/p>\n

Here\u2019s the second layer now. I cut it flat already. Help me set it straight.<\/em><\/p>\n

My Great Uncle George told me a vanishin\u2019 story when I was a girl. His bedtime stories never actually put me to sleep. They keyed me up. Grannie would scold him, but he never minded.<\/p>\n

Once he told me about his encounter with the Alabama White Thang.<\/p>\n

\"Alabama<\/p>\n

Now stop your gigglin\u2019. Don\u2019t let all that fancy city learnin\u2019 make you forget the country currency of a good story.<\/p>\n

George Washington Davidson was as honest as his namesake, my Grannie Narcissa Jane used to say. So I guess I should believe this story as true as if it were embossed in gold and carried in my pocketbook.<\/p>\n

My Uncle George and his kin were avid coon hunters and spent many a night in the woods. They had several close encounters with some kind of creature covered in white hair which stunk worse than a skunk, they say.<\/p>\n

Some used to say that White Thang screeched like a woman, but George never heard the scream himself. He said the creature\u2019s voice was low and stoney. Said it looked like a lion. Somewhere betwixt a lion and a dog. Bushy. All white with slick, long hair.<\/p>\n

And yes, he got a good close<\/em> look.<\/p>\n

George had been huntin\u2019 a coon one night right into the swamp.<\/p>\n

Now I don\u2019t recommend coon for eatin\u2019, if you must know. Stick with biscuits and gravy. Coon is greazy and slimy and not worth the trouble. But hunger didn\u2019t know better.<\/p>\n

So George had been huntin\u2019 that ol\u2019 coon right into the swamp. So intent he was on gettin’ that dinner that he slipped and dropped his ol\u2019 trusty huntin’ rifle right in the slimy water. George began this new hunt for the rifle in earnest, this time at the bottom of the swamp. With only the moonlight and his wits, he quickly lost track of time and his direction. And he panicked and cried out to the solitary darkness, \u201cI can’t afford to buy another, and now my children will go hungry. What can I do?”<\/p>\n

Only it wasn\u2019t solitary out there. And it wasn\u2019t altogether dark neither. George heard someone wade out behind him. He turned . . . expectin’ his kin.<\/p>\n

Only it wasn\u2019t his kin. It was Alabama White Thang. Right there. Tall and bushy. No eyes. No ears. At least none that you could see. Just a muscular 7-foot mound of white hair.<\/p>\n

The creature ducked in the swamp, as if he were more comfortable in the deep than in the air, and pulled out a gun, glistering yellow in the moonlight. As sure as we\u2019re standin’ here with this cake, Uncle George promised me that gun was gold! \u201cIs this your gun?\u201d the creature rumbled.<\/p>\n

Now George, as honest as his namesake, replied, \u201cNo sir, it\u2019s not. Mine is plain. With an old wooden stock.\u201d<\/p>\n

The creature disappeared into the water again and raised his arm above the water, holdin’ a different gun. This second swamp gun was the shiniest of silvers. Sterlin’, my uncle gathered. \u201cIs this your gun?\u201d the creature asked again.<\/p>\n

\u201cNo sir, it\u2019s not. My barrel is dull and made of steel.\u201d George replied. Too honest to say different.<\/p>\n

A third dunk in the water and this time George saw the creature darting back and forth like a giant white eel, slick and lithe. Finally he rose with the humdrum gun. \u201cIs this your gun?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThat\u2019s the one! Thank you, sir.\u201d<\/p>\n

As White Thang stepped toward George to hand him the rifle, he handed him three \u2014 the ordinary rifle as well as the gold and silver ones.<\/p>\n

The creature said as plain as day, \u201cMy friend, your honesty deserves a reward. Take all three guns home with you, and your children will never go hungry again!\u201d<\/p>\n

Uncle George was so thunderstruck he was numb. He leaned up against swamp tree cypress knees and fell asleep right there, clutchin’ his guns and vowin’ to himself to remember each event in stark detail.<\/p>\n

The huntin’ party found him the next mornin’. There at that tree. Clutchin’ the gold, silver, and regular rifles. If he hadn\u2019t had those guns, they would have ignored him entirely. But there was proof. Right there.<\/p>\n

Now George had a brother, James Madison Davidson \u2014 another presidential namesake \u2014 who was powerful jealous of his brother\u2019s fortune. Uncle Maddie wasn\u2019t as honest as George, Grannie said. \u201cWhy should my foolish brother have better luck than me?” Maddie groused. “Tonight I\u2019ll try the same trick and come home wealthy too!\u201d<\/p>\n

Maddie purposed to return to that swamp the next night and get his own golden rifle. And return he did. But he tossed his only rifle right from the bank and made a powerful fuss so that any creature of the deep could hear.<\/p>\n

I always imagined that White Thang came to just get him to hush. The creature appeared and scoured the bottom of the swamp like a catfish. He brought up a glistering golden rifle, \u201cIs this the gun you lost?\u201d he growled.<\/p>\n

\u201cYes! That\u2019s it!! Uncle Maddie gushed.<\/p>\n

And the creature plopped the rifle right back in the swamp. \u201cFor your dishonesty, you\u2019ll have no rifle at all.\u201d And he vanished just like the guns, leavin’ Uncle Maddie poorer than ever.<\/p>\n

Maddie never hunted again.<\/p>\n

Here\u2019s the last layer now. Make sure you don\u2019t get crumbs in the icin’.<\/em><\/p>\n

Foolish story, isn\u2019t it? I would lie awake after hearin’ it, thinkin’, \u201cIf you are so honest, Uncle George, why did you tell me such a tale? You are as poor as me.\u201d<\/p>\n

Grannie assured me that there was more truth in fables than in facts sometimes. I s\u2019pose she\u2019s right. The truth is in the lesson, not the details, she’d say. Repeatin’ a pretentious lie like Maddie will make the things you need the most \u2014 practical guns or mythical helpers \u2014 vanish altogether in the deep.<\/p>\n

I think honesty is being friendly within your self. That sounds funny, don\u2019t it? But that’s what I learned from Uncle George. The friendly thing that talks between your inside and your outside, that brings together the real you and the you you wish to be. That friendliness keeps the real you from vanishing.<\/p>\n

Maddie wasn\u2019t friendly with that thing. Uncle George was. Sal is, I’d surmise.<\/p>\n

I\u2019m happy for Sal and his new husband. He\u2019s a handsome young thing. They are living a lovely dream with a beautiful princess in a castle down by the sea.<\/p>\n

And they don\u2019t get ice down there.<\/p>\n

Daisy Lee Archibald<\/a> lives in Castleberry, Alabama. Miss Daisy enjoys canning, crocheting, Bible reading, and getting ready for the Strawberry Festival.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Well now I haven\u2019t seen you in a coon\u2019s age. How are ya? Come on<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1001002,"featured_media":4570,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[16],"tags":[958,947,956,949,821,953,946,957,952,954,959,955,960,944,948],"class_list":["post-5075","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-read","tag-aesops-fables","tag-alabama-white-thang","tag-brothers","tag-carl-jung","tag-daisy-lee-archibald","tag-george-washington-davidson","tag-hermes","tag-hermes-and-the-wood-cutter","tag-hummingbird-cake","tag-james-madison-davidson","tag-mercury","tag-narcissa-jane-davidson","tag-patron-god-of-businessmen","tag-salvatore-dimitri-macchioto","tag-turkey"],"yoast_head":"\nHermes, the Patron of Businessmen, and the Best Policies of an Honest Babbo - A Time To Laugh<\/title>\n<meta name=\"robots\" content=\"index, follow, max-snippet:-1, max-image-preview:large, max-video-preview:-1\" \/>\n<link rel=\"canonical\" href=\"https:\/\/www.drslewis.org\/camille\/2016\/02\/17\/hermes-and-an-honest-babbo\/\" \/>\n<meta name=\"twitter:label1\" content=\"Written by\" \/>\n\t<meta name=\"twitter:data1\" content=\"Daisy Lee Archibald\" \/>\n\t<meta name=\"twitter:label2\" content=\"Est. reading time\" \/>\n\t<meta name=\"twitter:data2\" content=\"9 minutes\" \/>\n<script type=\"application\/ld+json\" class=\"yoast-schema-graph\">{\"@context\":\"https:\\\/\\\/schema.org\",\"@graph\":[{\"@type\":\"Article\",\"@id\":\"https:\\\/\\\/www.drslewis.org\\\/camille\\\/2016\\\/02\\\/17\\\/hermes-and-an-honest-babbo\\\/#article\",\"isPartOf\":{\"@id\":\"https:\\\/\\\/www.drslewis.org\\\/camille\\\/2016\\\/02\\\/17\\\/hermes-and-an-honest-babbo\\\/\"},\"author\":{\"name\":\"Daisy Lee Archibald\",\"@id\":\"https:\\\/\\\/www.drslewis.org\\\/camille\\\/#\\\/schema\\\/person\\\/ae2027123fdb056c5d735a37a2b9e2b4\"},\"headline\":\"Hermes, the Patron of Businessmen, and the Best Policies of an Honest Babbo\",\"datePublished\":\"2016-02-17T19:30:37+00:00\",\"dateModified\":\"2020-01-23T02:59:20+00:00\",\"mainEntityOfPage\":{\"@id\":\"https:\\\/\\\/www.drslewis.org\\\/camille\\\/2016\\\/02\\\/17\\\/hermes-and-an-honest-babbo\\\/\"},\"wordCount\":1767,\"commentCount\":0,\"publisher\":{\"@id\":\"https:\\\/\\\/www.drslewis.org\\\/camille\\\/#\\\/schema\\\/person\\\/e93a8c9ec8fb8b926471114158437f82\"},\"image\":{\"@id\":\"https:\\\/\\\/www.drslewis.org\\\/camille\\\/2016\\\/02\\\/17\\\/hermes-and-an-honest-babbo\\\/#primaryimage\"},\"thumbnailUrl\":\"https:\\\/\\\/www.drslewis.org\\\/camille\\\/wp-content\\\/uploads\\\/2013\\\/09\\\/FGYf2ql.png\",\"keywords\":[\"Aesops Fables\",\"Alabama White Thang\",\"brothers\",\"Carl Jung\",\"Daisy Lee Archibald\",\"George Washington Davidson\",\"Hermes\",\"Hermes and the Wood Cutter\",\"Hummingbird Cake\",\"James Madison Davidson\",\"Mercury\",\"Narcissa Jane Davidson\",\"Patron god of Businessmen\",\"Salvatore Dimitri Macchioto\",\"Turkey\"],\"articleSection\":[\"Read\"],\"inLanguage\":\"en-US\",\"potentialAction\":[{\"@type\":\"CommentAction\",\"name\":\"Comment\",\"target\":[\"https:\\\/\\\/www.drslewis.org\\\/camille\\\/2016\\\/02\\\/17\\\/hermes-and-an-honest-babbo\\\/#respond\"]}]},{\"@type\":\"WebPage\",\"@id\":\"https:\\\/\\\/www.drslewis.org\\\/camille\\\/2016\\\/02\\\/17\\\/hermes-and-an-honest-babbo\\\/\",\"url\":\"https:\\\/\\\/www.drslewis.org\\\/camille\\\/2016\\\/02\\\/17\\\/hermes-and-an-honest-babbo\\\/\",\"name\":\"Hermes, the Patron of Businessmen, and the Best Policies of an Honest Babbo - 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