The last time I seed Ruby

There was an old boy who lived in our neighborhood when I was just a pup that we called Hunchy. My brother had the habit of naming all the bums that roamed around town and Hunchy was one of his favorites. It seems that Hunchy would carry around a box, the kind a proper lady might put her best Sunday-go-to-meetin' hat in. Well, one day we heard that Hunchy had been married for a spell but that his wife had just up and skeedaddled one fine afternoon and nobody knowed where she'd runned off to. Not one to be stumped by such and obvious situation, my brother began sayin' that old Hunchy was a'carryin' his wife's head in that old box a'his.
As he walked through town one sunny day, just a'talkin' to 'isself, Hunchy stopped suddenly and scratched 'is head and set that box down for jus' a sec. Well, that was the opportunity my brother was a'seekin' and off like an antelope he begun to sprint. His intent, a'course, was to grab the box and have 'isself a little look-see and settle the mystery once and for final. Just about the moment he reached the box, and Hunchy, he caught the tip of his boot on a railroad spike and pitched headlong into oncoming traffic.
Hunchy rubbed his nose, picked up the box and sauntered off down the road...
They're still lookin' for parts o' my brother to this very day.

Marcus Tee