Ain't nobody gon' fool me ag'in

I thought I wadn' gon' git this report back t' civlization in time t' tell y'all what all happened t' me tryin' t' git t' France an' git into th' truffle industry, where they lookin' fer hawgs that c'n smell better'n most folks.

I got th'owed off th' hunt down there on th' creek at a ,place called St. Martinville, when I stumbled into a Mardi Gra parade, then escaped an' run off and slud in another creek onto a barge load 'a corn they said was goin' t' France Road in N'yorlins, by which I figgered I was on my way t' France an' a new prosperous career in real aggerculture.

I laid up on th' front a' that barge 'mongst a pile a' sacks, not wantin' t' be spotted an' slung off in that creek and git et by a alligater. It wadn' a bad ride, and I got me a perty good nap while them tugboat boys was cruisin' along. Then, it must'a been a couple a' mornin's, pert' near sunup, we commenced t' run into a gret wide river, then turned up another l'il ol' creek where they was gret big boats, bigger'n a house, standin' off on th' side 'a that creek. They pulled that barge upside 'a one a' them big boats, an' tied 'er off, when I looked up an' seen a big sign that said, "France Road Terminal." Goodness, we here! I said t' myself. I reck'n if I jist git off an foller France Road, I'll find France right soon, and git t' work!

I waited 'til dark, while ever'body got off th' boat an' went off t' relax, then I struck out walkin' right fast up th' bank 'a that creek, then I come t' that gret big river, and wadn' nothin' t' do but head on up th' bank a' th' river. I walked near' about all night 'long th' river, when jist 'fore sunup I fin'ly come t' a bridge that was bigger'n ary bridge I ever seen b'fore. I woulda' stretched from Dodson jist about all th' way t' Winnfield, an' I happn'd t' see a sign that said, "Huey P. Long Bridge." I near 'bout fell over. This ain't no France, I said t' myself. What's goin' on? Right about then, I seen a black an' gray Chevy pickup truck parked at a li'l ol' fillin' station across th' street, that looked an awful lot like one I seen hanging' around Dodson. I eased over t'where I could watch, an' they was a feller talkin' t' somebody, sayin' "I jist come in from my two weeks out, an' I'm headin' on up t' Dodson an' he'p my Papaw Andy keep his store open fer a few days."

Well, I give up on France right there, and hopped up on a big crate and snuck down in th' bed 'a that truck. Way before sundown I was lookin' at Dugdemony and my old rootin' holes. Ain't nobody gon' fool me into runnin' off huntin' no France ag'in, never.