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What he'ps, no doubt, is they're capar'soned like folks, with big hats, bloo shirts, trousers, cow-laiggin's, boots an' spurs, fit an' ready to enter a civilised parlour at the drop of the handkerchief. Ceasin' to rope for reasons, however, it's enough to say these savages an' me waxes as thick as m'lasses.
"I had not been sitting by the stove long until I noticed, in a show case, a trombone. I asked Larry to please let me see it. 'Oi'll lit ye say the insthrumint, said he, 'but pwhat's the good of it? Ye can't play the thromboon, can ye? Oi'm the only mon in this berg that can bloo that hairn. Oi'm a mimber of the bhrass band.
Sandy bloo oot the can'le; an' by a' the how-d'ye-does ever was heard tell o', you niver heard the marrow o' yon. Stumpie Mertin roared "Order! Feyre!" at the pitch o' his voice; an' the chairman was yowlin', "For ony sake, gie's a grip o' some o' your hands till I get oot o' this draw-wall, or I'm a deid man."
"This yere imprint, the COYOTE, is done owned an' run by Colonel William Greene Sterett. An' I'll pause right yere for the double purpose of takin' a drink an' sympathisin' with you a whole lot in not knowin' the Colonel. You nacherally ain't as acootely aware of the fact as I be, but you can gamble a bloo stack that not knowin' Colonel Sterett borders on a deeprivation.
The fat man with the megaphone would bawl out, "'Hicky Bloo! Miss Ryan." And Miss Ryan would oblige. She made a hideous rattle and crash and clatter of sound compared to which an Indian tom-tom would have seemed as dulcet as the strumming of a lute in a lady's boudoir. Terry joined the crowds about the counter. The girl at the piano was not looking at the keys.
If this ghost is a bright ghost it would be easy. But he ain't; he's bloo an' dim like washed out moonlight, or when it's jest gettin' to be dawn. Enright's twenty yards to one side so as to free himse'f of Peet's smoke in case he has to make a second shot. "But Peets calls the turn.
"'As I sits yere, a relatin' of them exploits, an' Colonel Sterett tips the canteen for another hooker, 'as I sits yere, gents, all free an' sociable with what's, bar none, the finest body of gents that ever yanks a cork or drains a bottle, I've seen the nobility of Kaintucky the Bloo Grass Vere-de-Veres ride up on a blood hoss, hitch the critter to the fence, an' throw away a fortune buckin' Jeff's merry-go-round with them wooden steeds.
Thar's the Bloo Grass deestrict, the Pennyr'yal deestrict, an' the Purchase. The Bloo Grass folks is the 'ristocrats, while them low-flung trash from the Purchase is a heap plebeian. The Pennyr'yal outfit is kind o' hesitatin' 'round between a balk an' a break-down in between the other two, an' is part 'ristocratic that a-way an' part mud.
"'You're lookin' for trouble, Doc, says Colonel Sterett, kind o' laughin' at Peets. 'You reminds me of a onhappy sport I encounters long ago in Looeyville. "'An' wherein does this Bloo Grass party resemble me? asks Peets. "'It's one evenin', says Colonel Sterett, 'an' a passel of us is settin' about in the Gait House bar, toyin' with our beverages.
Jeff says he never sees so many folks sincere, an' with their minds made up, as him all' Morgan an' the rest of the Bloo Grass chivalry encounters oil that croosade.
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