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Updated: May 28, 2025
Neither of them ate much dinner, although Isaiah had prepared a cranberry pie, made from the first fruit of the fall season, and was correspondingly disappointed when both of his employers left it untouched. "Ain't a mite of use my slavin' myself to death cookin' fancy vittles for this crew," he grumbled.
But she just stood there dripping perspiration and good nature until the Doc had wound up by allowing that there was only one part of the hereafter where meals were cooked on Sunday, and that she'd surely get a mention on the bill of fare there as dark meat, well done, if she didn't repent, and then she blurted out: "Law, chile, you go 'long and 'tend to yo' preaching and I'll 'tend to my cookin'; yo' can't fight the debbil with snow-balls."
"I ain't never had a fair show on eatin'," he complained to the apprehensive storekeeper. "It's been ten years that my wife ain't got me a fair and square meal o' vittles. She don't believe in cookin' nothin' ahead nor gettin' up anything decent. She's a Go-upper and thinks the end of the world is li'ble to come any minit.
It was obvious that he was interested and absorbed as no other task in the world could interest and absorb him. The soul of an artist was poured into his work. He lingered over every detail, and saw that it was right. "Now, ain't that old Long Jim through an' through?" whispered Shif'less Sol to Henry. "Did you ever see a feller love cookin' ez he does? It's his gift.
One afternoon when Dick was cookin' up a stew Jabez came out an' sat on a cracker-box talkin' to him. He allus seemed to have a likin' for Dick, an' used to chat with him right consid'able. This afternoon he got to spreadin' himself about how much money the place handled every year an' how much the' was invested in it, an' what a great thing the cattle industry was to the entire country.
"Me'n Luke's been talkin' it over," she said, with some embarrassment; "we 'lowed you mought mebby be willin' to put up with us; we've got a spare room, an' you know about how we live. You've lied unmercifully ef you don't like my cookin'," she concluded, with an awkward little laugh. "I never lie," he retorted, smiling.
But conviviality was the order of the evening, and the punchers grouped together and told and listened to jokes, old and new, talked sagebrush politics, and threw dice for the privilege of paying rather than winning. "Says he's scoutin' for a job cookin'," remarked a young cowboy to the main group of riders. "Heard him tell Johnny."
"I shall employ Parker in your place." "What does he know about cookin'?" "He ran a restaurant in New York for five years, the first part of the time having charge of the cooking. We shan't suffer even if you do leave us." "I think I will stay," said Gordon in a submissive tone. "It is too late. You have discharged yourself. You can't stay here on any terms."
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