A story that always gives me a good chuckle was told to me when I was probably ten years old. Grandfather Forbes was the paternal grandfather of one of my best friends and when I'd see his team drive in her yard. I'd make a dash over to her house because I knew I would hear a good yarn. He reminded me of Santa Claus with his snow white hair, red face,and twinkling blue eyes. Gramp Forbes had run away from home at the age of fifteen to join the Union army. He lied about his age and was allowed to enlist. After the Civil War, he lived in "Bear Town" which was located in the south part of Williston, Vermont.
Frank Forbes was working as a hired hand for an Irishman and his good wife in "Bear Town" when this amusing episode occurred. The couple had a big black and white dog named Major. He always slept under Frank's bed at night which was located in a room off from the kitchen. Most of the farmers up and down the road had any number of dogs. At times they ran around in packs gethering more at each house as they came along the road.
One cold, moonlight night in the fall, the dogs gathered together for a nocturnal romp. By the time they arrived at old Majors domicile, there were probably eight or ten dogs in the pack and they made a dreadful racket as they came onto the back porch. They wanted Major to join them for a moonlight frolic and with all of their dancing around finally pushed open the unlatched kitchen door. There was pandemonium with dogs yelping and running all over the place.
The old Irishman thought these dogs weren't fit company for his dog so he kept calling down from upstairs,
"Sure'n ya be still Jaor'."
The noise became so loud and the Irishman never had a great liking for dogs except his own became scared and began calling,
"Frink, git them dawgs out of the kitchen before they have me house apart. Keep Jaor under the bed. Keep still Jaor. Frink, Frink, where are ya?"
With the Irishman Casey yelling from over the upstairs railing and the terrible uproar the pack of dogs were making in the kitchen, I couldn't keep Major still, so of course he began to bark. I jumped into my clothes as quickly as possible, grabbed a boot jack and peeked out.
What a site1. The bright moon light streamed in onto the fighting yelping dogs of all colors. They were all over the room. Some were standing on their hind legs up in an old sink that was in front of a window. I threw the boot jack at the fighting dogs and it went right through the window adding the sound of breaking glass to the pandemonium. At the same time, I yelled,
"Go after them, Major!" which the dog did with much furor. The dogs leaped through the broken window with Major barking at their heels.
Through all the noise, the old Irishman kept saying in a loud voice, yet muffled as though his head was under bed clothes,
"Frink, Frink, the dogs are in the kitchen and breaking all the windows and furniture: Git 'em out!"
After a time all was quiet and the only sound was the barking dogs running down the road with Major in the pack. I reassured the old man and his wife everything was all right and the only real damage was the broken window. I made sure the door was bolted and crawled back into bed and could still hear Casey cussing those blasted dogs as I dozed off dreaming of yelping dogs.