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A little old man came bustling out, chewing his tobacco so fast, and almost frantic about his suspenders, which it seemed he couldn't get adjusted. As I rode up, he said, "Whither, friend?" I said "Hither." Then he asked, "Air you spying around for one of them dinged game wardens arter that deer I killed yisteddy?"
"Mac, it's the same bunch as attacked us day before yisteddy," he observed. "It shure ain't," replied McDermott. "There's a million of thim to- day." He aimed his rifle as if following a moving object, and fired. "Mac, you git excited in a foight. Now I niver do. An' I've seen thot pinto hoss an' thot dom' redskin a lot of times. I'll kill him yit."
The Irishman sidled over to Neale. "Say, did yez hear about Casey?" he inquired, in very friendly fashion. "No, I didn't," replied Neale. He remembered Casey, the flagman, but probably there were many Caseys in that camp. "There wus a foight, out on the line, yisteddy," went on the fellow, "an' the dom' redskins chased the gang to the troop-train. Phwat do you think?
He was so small and so old, but so cheerful and so sprightly, and a real Southerner! He had a big, open fireplace with backlogs and andirons. How I enjoyed it all! How we feasted on some of the deer killed "yisteddy," and real corn-pone baked in a skillet down on the hearth. He was so full of happy recollections and had a few that were not so happy!
A pair ob carpet slippers, two collars, an' a lot ob chicken fixin's. Not a shirt to his back 'cept de one, he had on! Had to stay abed yisteddy till I i'oned it. Dar's one ob his collars on de line now. Dese yer Yanceys no 'count no way. Beats de lan' how de colonel can put up wid 'em, 'cept his faader was quality. You know de old gineral married twice, de las' time his oberseer's daughter.
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