It comes off by Pickles' earnest desire; Jack couldn't
refoose. He would have lost both skelp an' standin' if he had.
Which, however, if this yere 'limination of Pickles has got to have
a name, my idee is to call her a case of self-deestruction on
Pickles' part, an' let it go at that.'"
CHAPTER IV.
Johnny Florer's Axle Grease.
It was the afternoon--cool and
beautiful. I had been nursing my indolence with a cigar and one of
the large arm-chairs which the veranda of the great hotel afforded.
Now and then I considered within myself as to the whereabouts of my
Old Cattleman, and was in a half humor to hunt him up. Just as my
thoughts were hardening into decision in that behalf, a high,
wavering note, evidently meant for song, came floating around the
corner of the house, from the veranda on the end. The singer was out
of range of eye, but I knew him for my aged friend. Thus he gave
forth:
"Dogville, Dogville!
A tavern an' a still,
That's all thar is in all Dog-ville."
"How do you feel to-day?" I asked as I took a chair near the
venerable musician. "Happy and healthy, I trust?"
"Never feels better in my life," responded the Old Cattleman. "If I
was to feel any better, I'd shorely go an' see a doctor.
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