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    Nishnabotna

    By Bill Fries & Chip Davis

    Nishnabotna is a Native American word, which means
    "Deep enough to float a canoe in".

    One time time when I 'as growin' up, it 'as when I 'as a kid
    There 'as nothin' to do at home so I called up on a friend
    An' said let's pack us a box lunch, an' go down to the Nishnabotna
    An' go swimmin', an' maybe look fer some toads
    My friend said he thought that 'as a good idea
    Cause he didn't have nothin' to do either, an' he 'as outta toads

    So we packed up our box lunches an' we started outta walkin'
    An' we come to a big iron bridge which 'as five miles from town
    Where we ob-served a big sign which sez West Nishnabotna
    I sez this here's the place, an' a now if we can just find some toads
    An' go fer a good swim, we can have fun all day doin' nothin'
    Just loafin' around in the crick

    We jumped into that dirty water an' I thought we might be able to swim in it
    But we quickly discovered that we could not even begin to dog paddle in it
    Be... Because right where we was
    The Nishnabotna 'as only four an' a half inches deep
    So we wound up crawlin' along on all fours in it
    Through the mud, an' beer cans, an' yucky things, an' old pieces of cars

    We went passed a bunch of fenders an' a couple of Plymouth hubcaps
    An' we came to place where we thought there might be some toads
    When we 'as surprised by a farmer who told us to git on outta there
    An' to never come back, or he'd call up the Sheriff
    An have us put into jail fer the rest of our natural born lives
    With nothin' to eat but bread an' water, so we'd starve

    But time passes by real quickly when yer havin' fun
    So we ran through the fenders an' the mud to the bridge again
    But when we got back there we sadly discovered that the sun had been out all day
    An' our backs 'as all blistered so bad
    We had to lay flat on our bellies fer two weeks in bed
    Which made us sick to our stomachs, an' we didn't care about nothin' anymore

    It just ain't to good fer yer livers, to go swimmin' in that river
    You can get cut up pretty bad in there, an' there to many toads
    There's nothin' but... There's nothin' but mud in there
    An' there's all kinds of crud, an' it's layin' all over the place so ya better watch out
    If you wanna git sick, just go a crawlin' around in that crick
    Cause there's a whole lotta bad things that can happen to you
    No it ain't... No it aint good fer yer liver to hunt toads in that river
    The West Nishnabotny, the crick of my childhood


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