Tuesday, December 22, 2015

Work Brickle: A Christmas Story, Digest Version

Today's story is a compacted version of a Christmas story from two years ago ala the Reader's Digest.  Original version can be accessed by clicking here.
Did I ever tell you about your Uncle Mil's Christmas?  Ever’one said Milford was work brickle. Waal,  he warn't work brickle, he were more "boss brickle." . See, still a teenager, he had this job over to the yards in Lamar keepin’ the steam up in the switch engine durin’ the night.  One night his boss tell him, “Hey, Mil.  Hate to lose you, but the company is sendin’ you to Dodge.  You start over there next Monday.  No tellin’ how far you go with the company, Kid."

"Nuts to that," says Mil.  "I quit right now.  I ain't a leavin' Lamar."

"Now, wait, now.  You got that firebox to keep up tonight.”

"Fire it yourself."

So then Mil find work at the mill.  Doin' pretty well, too, until his boss come around and give him a new assignment, and you might guess how that turn out.  Boss brickle, like I say.

Out a job agin, Mil see people a thowin’ off perfeckly good stuff at the town dump, he decide he can make a livin’ pickin’ the place an’ resellin’ stuff.  An’ he done hit.  He sorts stuff, repairs stuff, peddles it aroun’ town, makin’ good money.  Waal, he gets official approval an exclusive rights to the dump and he is in bidness, for sure.

Now kids around town make fun of Mil.  You know how it goes, "Dirty Mil, dirty Mil, live on top a garbage hill." But Mil is shrewd, and he know which folk thow stuff out, and which ones never show up at his workplace.

Then a really cold and blustery Christmas Eve come along and ever'body stayin' cozy in they houses.  But lo! On Christmas mornin' folk at twenty-five, thirty houses find the most wonderful collection a toys on they front steps.  Santa done come, and no one saw hit happen.  Waal, there was some talk around town.  But when the same thing happen again the next Christmas Eve, people really start to wonder who is blessin' them thisa way.  It is fine for the kids to believe it is Santa, but we know better.

So on the next 24th a December, three, four a the guys make it up amongst theyselves to find out once and for all who the Secret Santa is.  By postin' theyselves around town, keepin' a low profile,  Frank Chambers finely 'bout 'leven o'clock spot Santa at work down on South 4th Street.  Hit were Milford.  Now whilst Mil was makin' his own livin' sortin' and sellin' rags and metal and all sort a junk, he was collectin' toys and takin' 'em home where he spend his evenin's repairin' and paintin' and makin' those toys just like new!  And on Christmas Eve he was brightenin' the lives of a whole passel a kids who he know warn't likely to get much fer Christmas.

37% reduction in the number of words without serious damage to the story (I hope).
© David W. Lacy 2015

More Christmas stories yet this week!


Secondary Roads said...

That's a lovely story. Reminds me of the town blacksmith when I was a kid.

vanilla said...

Chuck, I like the recognition of unassuming people who simply "do good" for others with no expectation of said recognition.

Vee said...

Sweet story, especially because that kind of caring is so rare in an "all about me" world.

vanilla said...

Vee, as many as are turned inward upon themselves, there are still many who give of themselves.

Sharkbytes said...

Great tale!

vanilla said...

Sharkey, I thank you!