The young man was lost, and a little apprehensive about spending the night under a tree in this never-ending forest in this backwoods. He pounded himself on the thigh with his fist, and cursed. "Now, what, Blair? Stuck in the middle of nowhere, faulty directions, am I stupid, or what, maybe I didn't understand the man in the store..."

"Hey, there young feller, you lost?"

Blair nearly jumped out of his skin. Man, oh man, I didn't hear him, I'm seriously losing it. He turned to see a middle-aged man on horseback coming out of a seemingly invisible path.

He gulped and thought, why not go for it? I am so not in the mood to spend the night out here. "Sir, I believe I'm lost. I'm wondering if you can tell me...that is I think I misunderstood the directions Mr. Wilson gave me back in Roseville."

"Know ever' crook 'n cranny 'round chere. Where might you be needin' to git to?"

Blair stared hard at the man, before he remembered the lecture on mountain dialects he'd read before beginning the trip. He wiped the smile off his face, and admitted, "Sir, I'm trying to find the Ellison's residence."

The man grinned, then grimaced, then grinned, "Hoo haw, boy, whatchew needin' them crazee folks fer?"

"Crazy?" asked Blair, riffling his curls, and fanning his hot neck with his hands."I wasn't told...anyway, I'm specifically looking for a man...a James J. Ellison, I've come to write..."

The man boggled his eyes. "Attair man is somepin' else, why he's crazier than a bessie bug...folks say he cun see way down in the next holler, and cun count the cones on the furthest pine tree, and they say he cun smell when Granny Tooner's been lucky on the big ole highway to Jacksboro, 'cauze she all'ays cooks up a big pot of armordillar stew and dumplins', after pilferin' the ditches. Why that feller can hear the eggs when they pops out of the hens ever' mornin' so's he can gather 'em fer his brekk'ist."

Blair's blue eyes opened wide, wider, widest. He nearly hooted himself. In fact, he jumped a few jacks. "Yes! That's the man I'm trying to locate. Can you tell me how to get to the family's home?"

"Yessirree, just hedd on up that little cow path over by that hicker nut tree, an' it'll take ya up into Coon Ridge, and the first house yull cum ter, is the Ellisons' home place. Watch out fer Cassie, now, young feller. That's Jimmy Joe's li'l sister, she's got a powerful hankerin' in her fer purdy fellers sech as yerself."

The man laughed as he scratched at his whiskers. "Don't tell nobody I said this, but all them Ellisons is quare in the haid...ole man Willie...do bleeve he's crookedder than my dawg's hind leg, and Jimmy Joe's ma, Miss Gracie, why she's not werth a hoot'n'a'holler...off an' leevin' them youngins', carryin' on feerce 'bout city learnin' and didn't want to raze her boys with Willie, who's a skinflint, if'n ya ast me, but Miz Gracie, why she cum home from summ'ers up nawth back to the homeplace, and Stevie, why that boy's so slick, he cud sell a drowndin' man a jug of water..."

Blair was amazed. Damn, if I only had the time and the energy to...maybe I'll get a chance to write all these idioms down. Fascinating. And what a second paper: closed societies, mountain folk were known for their "standoffish" ways to strangers.

"Thank you, sir, for your help. Now, I turn this way?"

The man nodded politely. "Yep. Glad I could cyst ya. Say hello from Beenie and Leola, will yer?"

Blair nodded, glad to be on his way, happy to have received directions to his sentinel.