Fellow at the volunteer fire department turkey shoot the other day
Fellow at the volunteer fire department turkey shoot the other day asked me about myself. I told him.
I was brought up by a pack of jackals in Cabarrus County, N. C.
& at the age of eight or thereabouts was found by a farmer who sold me to the county seat newspaper The Concord Tribune
which in deadline haste christened me Jackal Girl & named me Ruth
until they burned off my ticks & bathed & barbered me, whereupon lo & behold.
I was rechristened Jackal Boy & named William Ruth after old number 3 the great Yankee sultan of swat.
Later I added the Harmon from the Herrmannus oldest name in Europe carried in the Book of Doom & picked up in Clarissa & Our Mutual Friend & Let Us Now Praise Famous Men
& that Thomas Harman whose Caveat or Warning for Common Cursetors a forerunner of Red Ryder came out four hundred years ago today.
By 1922 I was big in pornography, being the first Golden Superman in Havana
& in that same year Miss Stein kindly put me in Geography & Plays as a minor character walking on in Act 3 of For the Country Entirely where it says
In the country and for the country.
Dear Master. Do not say so.
You mean there is no such address.
I do not mean that I criticize. I do mean that the method used
does not agree with me.
Certainly not.
Sincerely yours.
Harmon.
Why do you need a name.
I don't know. I like the point of Inca.
Which last refers obliquely to my savage background.
& even today
forty-five fiscal years later
I still return to my home wilderness from time to time.
Naturally now Ikkihr & Khigghl & Rhononkng-kl-Bniggng XXIII & all the other jackals who raised me are dead
but I can still talk the jackal language like a native & remain of course a full meat-brother of the pack.
Alas the wilderness of my childhood is becoming less & less free
what with freeways & supermarkets & subdivisions & periodical journalism gnawing gnawing
gnawing away at its purity
but it is there yet
& whenever I climb out of my car & strip off my American clothes & enter the chaste forest
I am greeted with friendly familiar cries of Auurhnga! Auurhnga!
& know I'm home again
I was brought up by a pack of jackals in Cabarrus County, N. C.
& at the age of eight or thereabouts was found by a farmer who sold me to the county seat newspaper The Concord Tribune
which in deadline haste christened me Jackal Girl & named me Ruth
until they burned off my ticks & bathed & barbered me, whereupon lo & behold.
I was rechristened Jackal Boy & named William Ruth after old number 3 the great Yankee sultan of swat.
Later I added the Harmon from the Herrmannus oldest name in Europe carried in the Book of Doom & picked up in Clarissa & Our Mutual Friend & Let Us Now Praise Famous Men
& that Thomas Harman whose Caveat or Warning for Common Cursetors a forerunner of Red Ryder came out four hundred years ago today.
By 1922 I was big in pornography, being the first Golden Superman in Havana
& in that same year Miss Stein kindly put me in Geography & Plays as a minor character walking on in Act 3 of For the Country Entirely where it says
In the country and for the country.
Dear Master. Do not say so.
You mean there is no such address.
I do not mean that I criticize. I do mean that the method used
does not agree with me.
Certainly not.
Sincerely yours.
Harmon.
Why do you need a name.
I don't know. I like the point of Inca.
Which last refers obliquely to my savage background.
& even today
forty-five fiscal years later
I still return to my home wilderness from time to time.
Naturally now Ikkihr & Khigghl & Rhononkng-kl-Bniggng XXIII & all the other jackals who raised me are dead
but I can still talk the jackal language like a native & remain of course a full meat-brother of the pack.
Alas the wilderness of my childhood is becoming less & less free
what with freeways & supermarkets & subdivisions & periodical journalism gnawing gnawing
gnawing away at its purity
but it is there yet
& whenever I climb out of my car & strip off my American clothes & enter the chaste forest
I am greeted with friendly familiar cries of Auurhnga! Auurhnga!
& know I'm home again
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