How eagerly we await the imminent return of the Licketysplit! I have word that she is hanging her coonskin cap back on its peg, ailment packing up her weasels and heading back up North. But I have not been privy to further details of her whitewashing of fences or sailing wooden rafts down the muddy crick. I will know she is coming when I hear the clack of her stick, spinning the wagon wheel as she saunters, shoeless, back to town.


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