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"You didn't even forget that I love bluebonnets, did you, dad?" "Pshaw! I 'ain't had much to do but remember what you like, son." "What's the matter? Business bad?" "Bob's" face was still hidden. "Oh no! I'm busy as usual. But, now you're home, I'll probably feel like doing more. I got a lot of work left in me yet, now I got somebody to work for." "So you fixed everything with your own hands."
The cactus had nearly done blooming now, and its ever-listening ears were absurdly warted with fruit; gorgeous carpets of bluebonnets were spread beside the ditches, while the air above was filled with thousands of yellow butterflies, like whirling, wind-blown petals of the prickly-pear blossom.
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