The Celebrated Battin' Cow of Calaveras County --OR--The Yankees Ain't Got Nothin' Over'n The Red Sox

      Recently, after reading Mark Twain's "The Celebrated Jumping Frog of Calaveras County," I assigned my junior class students the task of continuing on with Simon Wheeler's stories of Jim Smiley. 

"Mrs. Batson," one student began, "could you do this?"

I have a policy that I will not ask my students to do anything that I won't or can't do.  So with the asking of the question, the challenge was on.  What follows is my response to the task; however, to fully understand and enjoy the story, a reading of Mark Twain's story is a must and I have provided the link to an online text of the story.  So please, read "The Celebrated Jumping Frog of Calaveras County here:http://etext.virginia.edu/railton/huckfinn/jumpfrog.html, then enjoy my version below.  One other remark before you read, I wrote in dialect which may make it a little difficult to read.  I am sorry for that, but I wanted to try to capture the way I thought Simon Wheeler would really sound. Finally, my apologies to Mark Twain.

Ya’ll know the story of Jim Smiley and that frowg of his. Well, thish-yer Smiley had a yaller one-eyed cow that didn’t have no tail, only jest a short stump like a bannanner, and if you thank that I'm exaggeratin’ just ask that monkey that Miss Cissy has.

Miss Cissy got Macbeth, that’s what she named the monkey, when he fell off the circus train that passed by here a year or two ago; or it could be four or five. I don’t quite recollect. Macbeth came hobblin’ inta town and was all bruised and scratched up from fallin off that train. Miss Cissy felt a might sorry for 'em and carried 'em home and nursed 'em back to health. Macbeth was so appreciative that he decided jest to stay own with Miss Cissy.

Now Macbeth might've appreciated her, but the townsfolk didn’t appreciate him. Not after the Widder Barber had her say all over town. She got to moanin’ and groanin’ bout how monkeys carry diseases, and we were all gunna die, just cuz he was here. They had a big town meetin’ over yonder at the meetin' house and folks decided that Miss Cissy just needed to move away. So she moved down that road right ther’ a piece. The Widder Barber was still not happy, she won'ted 'em to move plum outta state, but warn’t much she could do bout that.

Miss Cissy vowed never to return to town since people thought Macbeth was such a problem, and she han’t neither. She sends Macbeth inta town ever so often with a grocery list, and Tom the grocery man puts what she needs inta sacks and Macbeth carries ‘em all the way home. Now if that don’t just nearly chap the hide right off the Widder Barber to see that monkey in town.

She tried to get up a p’tition to ban Macbeth from comin inta town at all. The truth was, most the townspeople thought Macbeth was a sight and liked to see 'em come to town. So the only signatures on the p’tition was the Widder Barber and some stranger that was jest passin' through. Even then some people say that—well, the Widder Barber is a looker and one of those kinda women, and there's the others that say that he might of been threatened a little cuz well, let’s jest say that some think that Mr. Barber didn’t die of nat’ral causes like she said 'e did.

That monkey was perdy smart. At night he opened the door ta that ther cage she keeps ‘em in and then 'e snuck out the winder and comed inta town where Hecate, that’s Smiley’s cow’s name, stayed in Smiley’s barn, and he'd go up to that cow’s stumped tail and chaw right down own it. Hecate, she didn't say nuttin' jest stood there chewing own her cud. After a bit, I reckon Macbeth figured out that he warn't gunna get that bannanner off a that cow so he’d jest up’n head for home.

On secon’ thought, maybe Macbeth warn’t so smart, cuz he came night after night tryin' to get that bananner. One night ol’ Hecate got tard a him trying to make a snack outta her tail so she give him a good hard kick, and we’ll just say that a little dowg mightta laughed, but it warn’t cuz a cow jumped over the moon.

One day, ol’ Smiley had a wad a cash and couldn’t fine nuttin’ to bet own so he decided that he was gunna learn Hecate how to play baseball. He dispeared inta his barn over yonder, and nobody saw hide ner hair of 'em for sumpin like six munts, but we all heard bangin’ and clangin’ and that cow a’bellerin’ and Smiley a’cussin quite reg’lar, sometimes well inta the night. Ever once'n awhile somebody'd say, "Reckon we oughter go over ther an check on 'em?" but nobody'd volunteer to go over ther. I thank they might bin a bit scared of what they'd fine. Then things'd get all quite and us here in the tavern would wonder whether Hecate and Smiley had kilt each other or not. Then it would’n be long for they was a’ bellerin and a cussin’ , bangin’ and clangin’ agin.

One day he comed outta that barn an’ he had two black eyes, three pump knots across his forehead, black an’ blue marks all over his body from head to toe. I’s the firs one to see him, and I said, “Jim, my god, son what happ’n to ya?”

He says, “I did it Simon! I learnt Hecate to play baseball! She’s a smashing good batter too. Why she can bat a ball right outta Calaveras County!”

“Ya don’t say,” I says.

“Yep, and I’m gunna take ‘er to try out for the Boston Red Sox.”

“Smiley, you bein’ ridiculous. They ain’t gunna let no cow on a baseball team.”

“I betcha they will once they see whatter slap-up batter she is!”

“Smiley,” I says, “that’s one bet I’m gunna take you up own.”

So we decided on the amount and shook hands and Smiley was up’n gone after Hecate. I was settin’ ri’ chere in this same seat I'm in now, and I heard a bunch a bangin’ an clangin’ an’ ol’ Hecate a’bellerin’ and Smiley a cussin’, then Smiley come outta that barn a’ridin Hecate and headin’ outta town to the east. All the way outta town that ol’ cow was a’bellerin’ an Smiley was a’cussin’. As he was leavin’ I swore I saw a wooden bat tied to that stump of a tail. Mustta been a bat too cuz Hecate swung like she would if she were swattin’ flies, and Smiley let out a yell of total pain then blurted out a string of cuss words that even I wouldn’t repeat, and I ain’t the most church-goiness man in the county.

pert near a year passed for we heard anything more about Smiley. Some thought he mustta died on his way to Boston; that ol’ Hecate prolly kilt ‘em. Some thought he prolly got tard of ridin’ a cow and sold’er to somebody in the next town and jest settled in thar for a spell.

Then one day we gotta newspaper an’ own the front page was Smiley an’ his cow Hecate. They’d just signed a contract with the Boston Red Sox. Well then, us that knew ol’ Smiley, we began to be sure we got a newspaper to see what was goin’ own with him and Hecate. Ever day articles own how that cow was makin’ the team one a’ the best in the league graced the sports page if not the front page. The Chicaga Tribune called Hecate and Smiley "a team in their own right."

Well, I jest couldn’t stand it any longer so I got m'self a train ticket an’ I headed out ta Boston ta watch Hecate play and to also take care a' the bet that I'd made with ol' Smiley.

They’s playin the Yankees that day. I got in the stands, and I watched the game, an for the lowngest time, I didn’t see Hecate or Smiley. I woulda got’ a might dispointed too if it hadn’t been such an excitin’ game.

Then—it was the bottom of the ninth. The bases was loaded and the score was tied. All was quite in the stands. You could feel the tension comin' in all drections. All a’sudden I heard some familiar clangin’ and bangin’. The announcer said, “The Red Sox are bringin’ out their not so secret weapon, Hecate!” Well, that crowd jest went wild. Then we heard some bellerin’ and cussin’ and their cheers turned into out and out full-fledge belly-laughs as they watched Hecate step up to the plate swingin’ her bat like she was swattin’ flies and ever time she swung that bat she’d hit Smiley and he’d scream and start to cussin’. Oh what a sight to see. I couldn’t stop laughin’ m’self.

Then Smiley got off Hecate, turned her around where her butt was over the plate. The pitcher sized up the situation then let that ball rip. “Swing Hecate!” says Smiley. An’ she swung that stump-of-a-tail with a bat on the end of it like no tomorra. The ball went right outta the park jest as easy as you please. Course they won that game; an they woulda won the world series too if Smiley hadn’t decided to bring his three-legged, cat that ain't got no tongue to the game…but then-- that’s another story.