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Texas Tales

published: October 31st 2008
by: MIke Cox

Anyone who likes to hunt dove knows that hitting a small, fast-moving object in the air is not easy.
    In his 1937 book, “Memories,” J.B. Cranfill told the story of J. M. Carroll, a man who had the reputation of being the best wing shot in Texas.
When a state shooting tournament came to Lampasas in the early part of the 20th century, Carroll went to the grounds the day before the scheduled competition to pop some caps in practice. He shot four boxes of shells, not missing a single of the 100 clay pigeons he trained his shotgun on.
    After Carroll put his piece away, a stranger approached and asked if they could talk privately. Carroll readily agreed.
    “You’re the best shot I ever saw,” the man began as soon as they had walked out of earshot of anyone. “If you will enter the contest, I will back you up and make bets on you, furnishing all the money, and we’ll divide the winnings.”
    Carroll smiled at the scheme the man laid out.
    “That’s mighty good of you, my kind friend, but I’m pastor of the Baptist church here and am afraid that the acceptance of your proposition wouldn’t look very well for a preacher.”
    “Oh, Hell,” the man said, shrugging his shoulders and walking off.
* * *
    Speaking of men of the cloth, an East Texas preacher, known to be quite fond of fried catfish, railed on in his church one Sunday about the sinfulness of fishing on the Sabbath.
    That Monday, one of his congregants came to him with a nice string of catfish.
    “I reckon I should own up that I got these yesterday,” the fisherman said with some hesitance.
    The preacher didn’t say anything for a moment, gazing intently at the hefty stringer. Then he piously reached for the gift.
    “These fish didn’t sin,” he pronounced.
* * *
    Born during the Civil War, Wilhelm Nowotny grew up along the Guadalupe River in Comal County.
    One of his descendants, Vera Jean Patton Nowotny later recalled in a privately published family history that Wilhelm had an interesting habit: Each morning he walked to a particular spot on the river, kneeled and splashed the water with his fingers.
    Perch would swim up and nibble on his hands. Whether he ever used this as a fishing technique went unmentioned. Ironically, as much as he loved the river, Nowotny eventually moved his family from Sattler to Blanco, believing the humidity from the Comal harmed his health.
***
    A preacher of a protestant denomination fervently opposed to drinking, despite the teachings of his religion, really appreciated an occasional bottle of bust-head Mustang grape wine.
    One day a member of his flock came to the church with an offering of $1,000 and a gallon of homemade wine. The preacher accepted both, but then realized he had an ethical problem. He would have to publicly acknowledge the gifts in the church bulletin, but he did not believe it wise to own up to having taken the wine.
    His solution, an example of the old saying that you don't have to lie if you tell the truth just right, read as follows:
    "We kindly thank Farmer and Mrs. [blank] for the fine financial contribution they made to our building fund. The reverend and his wife also enjoyed the Mustang grapes and the spirit in which they were given."
* * *
    A pupil at a country school wrote long and laboriously on the blackboard and finally sat down, quite proud of himself.
    Regrettably, the teacher couldn’t make out what he had written, his handwriting was so bad.
    “What in the world did you write?” she asked.
    “Well, damn, can’t you read?”
* * *
    A boozy roughneck in Eastland County pointed to the horizon and asked his equally drunk buddy if that was the moon rising.
“I don’t know, friend, I’m new around here, too.”
* * *
    Long ago, when the capital city was still a small town, a young man bent on a political career rode his buggy up into the hills west of Austin and gathered as many cedar choppers as he could find to hear his platform.
    He started talking and went on and on. Throughout his campaign speech, the cedar choppers sat expressionless. 
    “Have any of you ever heard of George Washington?” he asked.
    No one answered.
    “Have any of you ever heard of Sam Houston?” the candidate continued.
    Again, no one responded.
    “Well, have any of you ever heard of God?” he pleaded.
    At that, one tall mountaineer stood and said, “Did his last name start with a D?”