By Slim Randles
There was something new in the noisy portable commercial that was Windy Wilson’s way of spreading the news around town.
“Pardners and pardettes,” came the familiar voice from the Gates of Heaven’s loudspeaker car, “you ever stop and listen to your innermoist partitions when it comes to books? No? Well, doncha think it’s time? A-course it is! And thass perzackly why you should head on over to the good ol’ Read Me Now bookstore. You know where it is. Hey, s’only bookstore we got. Jes’ cruise on over to the
section she calls “Love and other fiction,” and a-fore you can say Robinson Croozer, Sarah McKinley, herself, will come over to help.
“Sarah knows where all the good ones are. Hey, you want one a-them books to keep you awake all night? She knows which ones’ll do that. You wanna fall asleep fast? Ask her for A Cowboy’s Guide to Growin’ Up Right by Slim Randles.”
Windy turned the car around at the edge of town and started back.
“And while you’re assumptionin’ all that there wisdom from the books, keep in mind this year phrase … Why, I bet ol’ Windy coulda wrote one or two a-them books his ownself. And you know, thass why you’ll prolly write to the folks at Oxford Shoes University or mebbe Notorious Dames University ‘bout getting’ ol’ Windy his very own honorary degree.
“Now while you’re puttin’ all them keen sentences together, might jes’ as well do it down at Delbert Chin’s Gates of Heaven Chinese joint. You see, Delbert’ll give you some tea and mebbe some a-that good muleshoe pork while you’re busy writin’ that letter for Windy on them free gen-oo-wine paper napkins.
“All you rilly need is a pencil or somethin’ else to write with. And think what a great way this’d be to say much obliged to all the cowboy camp cooks you know.”
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