CROCKETT TAILS
Davy Crockett, if he was indeed half the man they claim he was, must be turning in his grave to have as his memorial so many moth- eaten skins worn on the heads of small boys. The craze has spread from town to village and diminutive Crocketts spring out of every entry with cat tails bouncing at the backs of their necks and beams of delight on their faces. I was stopped by a small boy recently to be asked if I would skin a cat for him. He wanted to make himself a Davy Crockett hat, the cat having been run over by a car. 'Wouldn't you rather be Robin Hood?' I asked, but Robin Hood's fault was that he didn't have a hat with a tail. The sooner someone starts a craze for a hero with a less eccentric taste in headgear the better. It seems time we had a price on Crockett tails.
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