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Updated: May 22, 2025
As the tale was told over and over again, there came softly from the lips of the only other Irishman in the regiment, Jimmy Coolin, a variant verse of the song that the great McNeill had stopped: "Where is the shame of it, Where was the blame of it, William Connor dear?"
Bartley offered the moccasins, but Cheyenne waved the offer aside. "Just coolin' my feet," he explained. "It ain't so much the kind of boots, because these fit. It's scaldin' your feet that throws you." They smoked and drank from the canteen. Five minutes' rest, and they were on the road again.
"An' ye sweltered in the juice!" broke in Coolin with flashing eyes, proud to have roused Connor to this secret tale, which he would tell to the Berkshires as long as they would listen, that it should go down through a long line of Berkshires, as Coolin's tale of William Connor. "An' I sweltered in the swill," said Connor, his eye with a cast quite shut with emotion, and the other nearly so.
Thin a hand touched me face the same as you, Coolin, the same as you. Drames are thrue things, Coolin." "It was thrue, thin, Connor?" A look of shame and a curious look of fear crept into Coolin's face; for though it was not true he had dreamed of the hand on his face and the cold wind blowing over him, it was true he had dreamed he saw Connor lying on the ground with a bullet-hole in his tunic.
"Prove yoreself, then, Aaron," he challenged, "ye talks erbout yore hunger ter avenge yore dead boys albeit they fell in a pitch-battle an' ye don't know who deadened 'em an' ther fire of thet wrath's been coolin' fer a full score of ya'rs. Why did ye let hit simmer so long?" "Because I was pledged ter peace an' I wasn't no truce-buster. I sought ter remain steadfast and bide my time."
Kings and queens don't have anything on their tables half as good as one of your ash-cakes, with a glass of cool butter-milk." "Dat so, Honey?" she queried, with wonder. "Den you sho'ly shall have some, right away. Mammy churn dis ve'y mornin', and dars a pitcher of buttermilk coolin' in de spring dis minute.
Anything further removed from instinct it were hard to fancy; and one is even stirred to a certain impatience with a character so destitute of spontaneity, so passionless in justice, and so priggishly obedient to the voice of reason. There are not many dogs like this good Coolin, and not many people. But the type is one well marked, both in the human and the canine family.
The place was leased by a man called Bommaerts, and that was one of the two names I had heard whispered in that far-away cleft in the Coolin by the stranger from the sea. A sensible man would have gone off to the contre-espionage people and told them his story. I couldn't do this; I felt that it was my own private find and I was going to do the prospecting myself.
The gas, close over our heads, nigh made our brains bile over, so sez I, "Let's make tracks out of this, Squire. This parfume of humanity is horrid unhandsome." "Let's have a cup of corfy," says he, "to repare exhorsted natur." "A sherry cobbler would be more to the purpose," says I, "but if they hev none of them coolin drinks at art sworricks, here goes for the Moky."
"He found it, and about three minutes after that I saw him going to the brook in a hurry. He had quite a time on't, sloshin' water, coolin' off his mouth and I never knew him to touch an egg afterward. "But I see, ma'am, that you have got quite a robustious prejudice against Cayenne. It isn't such bad stuff, after all. It's fiery, but it never does any permanent harm.
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