'"
CHAPTER XVII.
Old Man Enright's Love.
"Son, I'm gettin' plumb alarmed about myse'f," observed the Old
Cattleman, as we drew together for our usual talk. "I've been sort
o' cog'tatin' tharof, an' I begins to allow I'm a mighty sight too
garrulous that a-way. This yere conversation habit is shore growin'
on me, an', if I don't watch out, I'm goin' to be a bigger talker
than old Vance Groggins,"
"Was Groggins a great conversationist?" I asked.
"Does this yere Vance Groggins converse? Which I wish I has stored
by a pint of licker for everythin' Vance says! It would be a long
spell before ever I'm driven to go ransackin' 'round to find one of
them life-savin' stations, called by common consent, a 's'loon!'
This Vance don't do nothin' but talk; he's got that much to say, it
gets in his way. Vance comes mighty clost to gettin' a heap the
worst of it once merely on account of them powers of commoonication.
"You see, this yere Vance is a broke-down sport, an' is dealin'
faro-bank for Jess Jenkins over on the Canadian. An' Vance jest
can't resist takin' part in every conversation that's started. Let
two gents across the layout go to exchangin' views, or swappin'
observations, an' you can gamble that Vance comes jimmin' along in.
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