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Updated: June 26, 2025
An' the next news you gets is of how, inside of three months, she jumps some gent who's off his gyard an' is lulled into feelin's of false secoority ropes, throws, ties an' weds him a heap, an' he wakes up to find he's a gone fawn-skin, an' to realize his peril after he's onder its hoofs. That's what this Cumberland lady does.
An' when a gent goes to rollin' out of his blankets say at sun-up, it makes 'em monstrous angry to be disturbed; an' the first he knows of where they be an' how they looks on early risin', their teeth's in him up to the gyard, an' before night thar's one less gent to cook for, an' an extra saddle rides along in the grub-wagon with the blankets when they next moves camp.
"Can you think of any way, Chunk?" "Ef de gyard ony all get ter sleep, I'd tek de risk ob tacklin' Perkins, but dere's too many en I des stumped ter know w'at ter do." "Hi! Miss Lou," whispered listening Zany, "I kin tell you w'at ter do." "Doan you pay no 'tention ter her foolishness," said Chunk coolly. "Dis life-en-death business, en Zany outgrowed her sense."
'Tis the beginnin' av the overture; stand up! "He stud all he know, but he niver peeled his jacket, an' his shoulders had no fair play. I was fightin' for Dinah Shadd an' that cut on my cheek. What hope had he forninst me? 'Stand up, sez I, time an' again whin he was beginnin' to quarter the ground an' gyard high an' go large. 'This isn't ridin'-school, I sez.
"A word wid you, Dempsey," sez I. "You've walked wid Dinah Shadd four times this fortnight gone." "What's that to you?" sez he. "I'll walk forty times more, an' forty on top av that, ye shovel-futted clod-breakin' infantry lance-corp'ril." 'Before I cud gyard he had his gloved fist home on my cheek an' down I went full-sprawl.
Wid that I gave him both, one after the other, smash through the low gyard that he'd been taught whin he was a boy, an' the eyebrow shut down on the cheek-bone like the wing av a sick crow. "'Will you hear reason now, ye brave man? sez I. "'Not whoile I can speak, sez he, staggerin' up blind as a stump.
This festival of crime incloodes a whole region; an' twenty stages, in as many different places an' almost as many days, yields up to these yere bandits. Old Monte, looks like, is a speshul fav'rite; they goes through that old drunkard twice for all thar is in the vehicle. The last time the gyard gets downed. "No, the stage driver ain't in no peril of bein' plugged.
'Which you better look out a whole lot; you-all may get it yourse'f. "The gyard laughs ugly an' exasperatin' an' puts the ten-gauge in a locker along with two or three Winchesters. Then he turns the key on the firearms an' goes caperin' off to his feed. "The other gyard, his compadre, is settin' on a stool lookin' out a window. Mebby he's considerin' of his sins.
I over-shtayed somehow, an', whin I got to the train, begob, it was on the move. There was a first-class carr'ge door opin right forninst me, an' into that the gyard crams me holus-bolus. There was a juce of a foine jintleman sittin' there, an' he stares at me umbrageous, but I was not dishcommoded, bein' onbashful by natur'. We thravelled along a heap av miles more, till we came near London.
Sech a play would be onelegant an' no delicacy to it; an' I now returns to gyard ag'in it. "As soon as Peets is started for the Red Light, Tutt ag'in turns to the Signal party, who's settin' thar lookin' he'pless an' worried, like he's a prairie dog who's come back from visitin' some other dog, an' finds a rattlesnake's done pitched camp in the mouth of his hole.
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