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Updated: May 12, 2025
Then everybody tried to talk at once, and one chap got off a joke, but it warn't no use, they didn't laugh, and even the chap that made the joke didn't laugh at it, which ain't usual. We all just settled down glum, and watched the bar'l, and was oneasy and oncomfortable.
"I don't know; I reckon it ain't a bar'l, but I thought it might be," says he. "Yes," I says, "so it might be, and it might be anything else, too; a body can't tell nothing about it, such a distance as that," I says. 'We hadn't nothing else to do, so we kept on watching it. By and by I says "Why looky-here, Dick Allbright, that thing's a-gaining on us, I believe." 'He never said nothing.
O, no, he was both of 'em, says Bob. Then they all haw-hawed. 'Say, Edward, don't you reckon you'd better take a pill? You look bad don't you feel pale? says the Child of Calamity. 'O, come, now, Eddy, says Jimmy, 'show up; you must a kept part of that bar'l to prove the thing by. Show us the bunghole do and we'll all believe you. 'Say, boys, says Bill, 'less divide it up.
Thar's all thet soap grease to mek up soon's I kin git the leach bar'l sot up 'sides hens to set, gairden to plant, the turkey hens to watch so's they don't steal ther nests; an' Brindle an' Crooked Horn an' Spot all comin' in fresh nex' week, an' ther new calves to look aftah, 'sides all thet buttah an' milk an' cheese. The days hain't nigh long 'nough fer all the wuck thet's to be did.
The listener became all attention. "Queer doin's I seen long erbout then. Contractors is a scand'lous lot. Many's the load o' dirt I seen hauled out thet easy, whut th' state paid fer ez blasted rock. My, yes. But my party wuzn't workin' at contractin'; he wuz workin' at contractors, an' he knew 'em, lock, stock, and bar'l. He jes' owned th' whole blim pack. Thet's where his rake-off come in.
'So then we went to talking about other things, and we had a song, and then a breakdown; and after that the captain of the watch called for another song; but it was clouding up, now, and the bar'l stuck right thar in the same place, and the song didn't seem to have much warm-up to it, somehow, and so they didn't finish it, and there warn't any cheers, but it sort of dropped flat, and nobody said anything for a minute.
"But what's that got to do with Reub and George?" "Dew with em, why, man alive, don' ye unnerstan? Don' ye callate Berkshire folks haz got ez much grit ez the Hampshire fellers, an don' ye callate we haz ez much call to hev a grudge agin courts? Ye orter been daown tew the tavern tew see haow the fellers cut up wen the news come. T'was like a match dropping intew a powder bar'l.
Jest by the way of raw material, if you'll only confer on a Mexican a kettle, a rifle bar'l, a saddle cover, an' a pigskin full of sour pulque, he'll be conductin' a mescal still in full blast at the end of the first hour. But to go back to Enright's yarn. "'These yere pulque people, says Enriglit, 'does a fa'rly rapid commerce.
They were both purty well all in, an' I tell you I was scared. But we got Dick around somehow rolled him on a sugar bar'l, an' poured whiskey in him, an' worked his arms, an' put him in hot blankets. By and by he come to. There was his trouser all stiff with blood, an' he not sayin' a thing. Pluckiest little runt in three States, by Judas!
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