NEWS: 1907, Bullitt Co., KY - Lost - Strayed or Stolen

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Contributed by Silaslevi@webtv.net
Date: 3 Aug 2000
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Pioneer News Bullitt Co. Ky
Friday Feb.15th 1907 
LOST, STRAYED or STOLEN 

A few moons ago a youngish man with auburn locks and a cast in his off eye, answering to the 
name of Sorghum was seen to leave his comfortable shack on Knob Creek and follow the mule 
even to the gentle confines, limits and boundaries of Shepherdsville. As he drove along he 
studied about fourteen feet of foolsnap paper carefully pinned together and bearing what 
appeared to be a map of Paradise with a scope of preambulations of the wandering Peri. 

To every question put him he had but one reply in some unknown tongue " Donneau." As he 
wended his way up through the Cedar Grove neighborhood he gazed ardently upon the mail-boxes 
along the route as if seeking some unknown symbol graven there. 

On past Cedar Grove hiked the mule even unto the beautiful village of Browning Town. 
Consulting ever and anon the Palestinian map, he threaded the mazy ways of that populous 
city, passed through the hazel-nut patch, took the poplar flat on his left shoulder and
gestulating wildly with one hand, holding the reins in one and the map in the other he smote 
up against a stone house over on the bluffs of Rock Run. 

This seemed to be his destination for when a young lady of tender years appeared he lapsed 
from the mystic symbol of "Donneau" and reverted to his mother tongue. 

Parenthetically, we venture to remark that when he got back home his mother's tongue 
reverted to him, and that if his palladium-like exterior went free of scratches, it was 
because the " old cat" wasn't around. It is understood that Sorghum piked out from the 
suburbs of Browning Town about dark, and it is further chronicled in the annals of Knob 
Creek that the silence of the wee small hours was broken by the brazen hee-haw of the mule's 
domestics. 

This is the tale of Sorghum Joe 
From the darksome danks of Cupio 
        A mule, a maid and a muleteer, 
        A map, a road and an I. A. gear; 
        A smile, a nod and a low " Donneau" 
        A twenty-mile ride thorough mud and snow. 
        A night, a day, and back we go Twenty miles to Cupio; 
        A slash, a trot, through the night air ran
        A gentle cuss and a loud hee-haw, 
        If there's any more, well, I dunno, 
        And this is the tale of Sorghum Joe.