Jim Falk mini-sode The Raggedy Man Part 2 – The King of the Black Pond – coming soon!

The three part miniseries The Raggedy Man takes place a decade or so prior to the events of my full length novel The Witch at Sparrow Creek (Kindle version now available!) 

Part 2 – The King of the Black Pond …Coming this month!
Following a mysterious map, Falk and his strange new acquaintance head south-wise with their newly acquired horses and wagon. The journey takes them deep into the swamps, but Yav Shah soon realizes they are being watched. When a spell begins to drain their stamina and tire the horses, they make camp in the dark. What lurks in the shadows and gnarled branches waiting for the weary companions?

The Kindle Version Giveaway!
Yes! There will be another giveaway! Due to the popularity of my prior giveaways, there will be a Kindle version giveaway of The Witch at Sparrow Creek when Part 2 is released later this month! Keep checking my blog for updates or follow me on Twitter @joshuatkent

New Artwork On the Way!
The world of The Witch at Sparrow Creek is full of strange characters, creatures, and adventure. I’ve recently touched base with a new artist who will be collaborating with me to bring this weird world to life! Stay tuned for an announcement and interview with the new talent!

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One thought on “Jim Falk mini-sode The Raggedy Man Part 2 – The King of the Black Pond – coming soon!

  1. The Title of these mini-sodes is the same title as this children’s poem, which was a childhood favorite.

    The Raggedy Man

    O the Raggedy Man! He works fer Pa;
    An’ he’s the goodest man ever you saw!
    He comes to our house every day,
    An’ waters the horses, an’ feeds ’em hay;
    An’ he opens the shed—an’ we all ist laugh
    When he drives out our little old wobble-ly calf;
    An’ nen—ef our hired girl says he can—
    He milks the cow fer ‘Lizabuth Ann.—
    Ain’t he a’ awful good Raggedy Man?
    Raggedy! Raggedy! Raggedy Man!

    W’y, The Raggedy Man—he’s ist so good,
    He splits the kindlin’ an’ chops the wood;
    An’ nen he spades in our garden, too,
    An’ does most things ‘at boys can’t do.—
    He clumbed clean up in our big tree
    An’ shooked a’ apple down fer me—
    An’ ‘nother ‘n’, too, fer ‘Lizabuth Ann—
    An’ ‘nother ‘n’, too, fer The Raggedy Man.—
    Ain’t he a’ awful kind Raggedy Man?
    Raggedy! Raggedy! Raggedy Man!

    An’ The Raggedy Man one time say he
    Pick’ roast’ rambos from a’ orchurd-tree,
    An’ et ’em—all ist roast’ an’ hot!—
    An’ it’s so, too!—’cause a corn-crib got
    Afire one time an’ all burn’ down
    On “The Smoot Farm,” ’bout four mile from town—
    On “The Smoot Farm”! Yes—an’ the hired han’
    ‘At worked there nen ‘uz The Raggedy Man!—
    Ain’t he the beatin’est Raggedy Man?
    Raggedy! Raggedy! Raggedy Man!

    The Raggedy Man’s so good an’ kind
    He’ll be our “horsey,” an’ “haw” an’ mind
    Ever’thing ‘at you make him do—
    An’ won’t run off—’less you want him to!
    I drived him wunst way down our lane
    An’ he got skeered, when it ‘menced to rain,
    An’ ist rared up an’ squealed and run
    Purt’ nigh away!—an’ it’s all in fun!
    Nen he skeered ag’in at a’ old tin can …
    Whoa! y’ old runaway Raggedy Man!
    Raggedy! Raggedy! Raggedy Man!

    An’ The Raggedy Man, he knows most rhymes,
    An’ tells ’em, ef I be good, sometimes:
    Knows ’bout Giunts, an’ Griffuns, an’ Elves,
    An’ the Squidgicum-Squees ‘at swallers the’rselves:
    An’, wite by the pump in our pasture-lot,
    He showed me the hole ‘at the Wunks is got,
    ‘At lives ‘way deep in the ground, an’ can
    Turn into me, er ‘Lizabuth Ann!
    Er Ma, er Pa, er The Raggedy Man!
    Ain’t he a funny old Raggedy Man?
    Raggedy! Raggedy! Raggedy Man!

    An’ wunst, when The Raggedy Man come late,
    An’ pigs ist root’ thue the garden-gate,
    He ‘tend like the pigs ‘uz bears an’ said,
    “Old Bear-shooter’ll shoot ’em dead!”
    An’ race’ an’ chase’ ’em, an’ they’d ist run
    When he pint his hoe at ’em like it’s a gun
    An’ go “Bang!—Bang!” nen ‘tend he stan’
    An’ load up his gun ag’in! Raggedy Man!
    He’s an old Bear-shooter Raggedy Man!
    Raggedy! Raggedy! Raggedy Man!

    An’ sometimes The Raggedy Man lets on
    We’re little prince-children, an’ old King’s gone
    To git more money, an’ lef’ us there—
    And Robbers is ist thick ever’where;
    An’ nen—ef we all won’t cry, fer shore—
    The Raggedy Man he’ll come and “splore
    The Castul-halls,” an’ steal the “gold”—
    An’ steal us, too, an’ grab an’ hold
    An’ pack us off to his old “Cave”!—An’
    Haymow’s the “cave” o’ The Raggedy Man!—
    Raggedy! Raggedy! Raggedy Man!

    The Raggedy Man—one time, when he
    Wuz makin’ a little bow-‘n’-orry fer me,
    Says “When you’re big like your Pa is,
    Air you go’ to keep a fine store like his—
    An’ be a rich merchunt—an’ wear fine clothes?—
    Er what air you go’ to be, goodness knows?”
    An’ nen he laughed at ‘Lizabuth Ann,
    An’ I says “‘M go’ to be a Raggedy Man!—
    I’m ist go’ to be a nice Raggedy Man!”
    Raggedy! Raggedy! Raggedy Man!

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