[at-l] Hmm Marchin Thru Georgia

[chaynes@megalink.net (Clifford R. Haynes)]

Yee Gads and Little Fisk Hooks, I had forgotten.
I think it was somewhere in Virginia I picked up an old soup spoon Mandolin,
it wasn't in very good shape, but lasted long enough to bring back a bunch
of old jigs and dittys as well as some other old tunes before it finished
coming unglued, and ended it's days as kindling. Anyway one of the tunes was
especially good for knocking off the miles, and most of my time was spent
humming or happily whistling down the  trail. Often in town or where ever I
was around folks one of the tunes seemed to get a lot of strange looks from
folks. For some strange reason I never got the same looks if the tune was
Red Wing, the Old Washer Woman, or even the old French Canadian paddling
songs in PI French. Always strange looks for that one song.
Well shortly after starting the bus ride home sitting there absentmindedly
humming that tune, I again noticed that strange look from one of the other
passengers. It was than that it donned on me that I had been happily
tramping through the "South" to the tune of "The Yanks go Marchin Thru
Georgia".


> Yikes - now I'm gonna be marching through Georgia making little bunny ear
> motions with my hands.  I'm doomed.
>
> Egads!!!!
>
> Black&blue
>