They never has sech a time, them Osages don't, since the
battle of the Hoss-shoe. Son, they packs it off in blankets,
freights it away in wagons. They turns loose on a reg'lar axle
grease spree. In a week every box is sold, an' thar's orders stacked
up on Florer's desk for two kyar-loads more, which is bein' hurried
on from the East. Even the Injuns' agent gets wrought up about it,
an' begins to bellow an' paw 'round by way of compliments to Johnny.
He makes Johnny a speech.
"'Which I've made your excellent discovery, Mr. Florer,' says this
agent, 'the basis of a report to the gov'ment at Washin'ton. I sets
forth the mad passion of these yere Osages for axle grease as a
condiment, a beverage, an' a cure. I explains the tribal leanin'
that exists for that speshul axle grease which is crowned with
years, an' owns a strength which comes only as the cor'lary of hard
experience. Axle grease is like music an' sooths the savage breast.
It is oil on the troubled waters of aboriginal existence. Its feet
is the feet of peace. At the touch of axle grease the hostile
abandons the war path an' surrenders himse'f. He washes off his
paint an' becometh with axle grease as the lamb that bleateth.
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