The Cotton Brothers wore clothes that weren’t. Their duds were made by a blacksmith instead of a tailor because as members of a three man fence crew down around San Angelo they faced three of God’s most dangerous inventions: barbed wire, brush that cut like it, and rattlesnakes.
Somehow the Cotton brothers, “Big” and “Little”, got teamed up with God’s fourth worst creation, Bosco Taylor. Bosco was born fully grown and was shaving by the time he reached the first grade, which is about as far as he pursued his higher education. Bosco was big enough to shade a rhinoceros and could probably out wrestle one if he knew what one was. But Bosco had a mean streak in him which caused the Cotton Brothers more grief than all the brush, barbed wire and rattlers put together.
“Bosco was always playing mean tricks on me and Little Brother,” recalled Big Brother. “Like the time we all sat down in a shady spot to eat lunch after a hard morning of stringing the devils’ hatband. We were famished and Little Brother couldn’t wait to open up his Star Wars Lunch Box and see what mom had packed. But instead of the usual peanut butter and jelly there was a baby rattler staring right back at Little Brother. Bosco had put that snake in his lunch box when he wasn’t looking.
“Bosco always made me and Little Brother do all the hardest chores too, like digging holes and pounding posts. His practical jokes went on non-stop, always crying “snake” when there wasn’t one. And there was nothing we could do about it. That is until one day we were punching holes in the ground out around Big Spring. The snakes in those parts were so thick you had to parade around on stilts. So in the course of digging holes it was only natural that me and Little Brother came across the biggest, deadest snake I had ever seen without the aid of liquor. It was then and there that I got the inspiration on how to get even with Bosco.
“Bosco always took a nap right after lunch and while he was busy snoring we made preparations. Little Brother got a fork out of his lunch box and bent back the middle two tines. Then I placed that dead rattler right next to Bosco’s leg. I got a shovel in my hands and gave Little Brother the sign. Little Brother jabbed that fork into Bosco’s leg backed up by two years of pent up hatred.
“Bosco woke up with a scream that would have raised the hair on a buffalo rug. The first thing he saw was Mr. Snake right next to his leg and the second thing he saw was me swinging that shovel right down on top of that snake and chopping him right in two. But it was too late. That dead snake had already done the damage, which Bosco was now trying to examine by dropping his drawers right there in front of God and everybody.
“Bosco was bellering like a fresh cut bull while me and Little Brother tried to tell him that the most important thing to do after getting bit by a snake is to stay calm. But that wasn’t Bosco’s nature and I guess it didn’t help none that me and Little Brother were telling him what a slow and terrible death lay ahead for him.”
“You gotta do something,” Bosco pleaded.
“Who… us? The two guys you have tormented for two years with your practical jokes?”
“After we let Bosco plead, beg and promise to be our loyal servants for the rest of his life we obliged. “I guess we could help,” I said.
“What are you going to do?” asked Bosco.
“We gotta cut you and draw out the blood if you want to have any chance of surviving,” Little Brother explained. ‘But when Little Brother drew out his pig sticker, a bone handled knife with a six inch blade, Bosco took one look at the knife and proceeded to pass out.”
“Miraculously, Bosco somehow survived his “snake bite” by trying to drown all his troubles. But it didn’t work. Me and Little Brother knew how to swim.”
