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Updated: May 28, 2025
First, she gives us The Dying Ranger, the same bein' enough of itse'f to start a sob or two; speshul when folks is, as Colonel Sterett says, 'a leetle drinkin'. Then when the public clamours for more she sings something which begins: "'Thar's many a boy who once follows the herds, On the Jones an' Plummer trail; Some dies of drink an' some of lead, An' some over kyards, an' none in bed; But they're dead game sports, so with naught but good words, We gives 'em "Farewell an' hail."
It goes straight up ontil lost to view, onwindin' itse'f in its flight because of the wizard holdin' on. "'Gents, that ball of kyarpet-rags never does come down no-more! An' it's all done as easy as a set-lock rifle!
The game, turned strict, confines itse'f to eatin', drinkin', an' lyin'. "'Thar's plenty of whiskey in camp, says Jack Moore, meditative- like, 'whereby that drinkin' part comes easy.
As a condition prior advised by the barkeep, an' one which also recommends itse'f to me as dictated of the commonest proodence, I figgers on gainin' your views of these steps." ""You does well," I replies, "to consult me on them p'ints. I sees you're shore a jo-darter of a lawyer; for you handles the language like a muleskinner does a blacksnake whip.
'Whichever way she comes, says Cherokee, 'good or bad, luck avalanches itse'f on a gent. That's straight! goes on Cherokee. 'You bet! I speaks from a voloominous experience an' a life that, whether up or down, white or black, ain't been nothin' but luck.
If a gent's morose, an' his whiskey's slow placin' itse'f, he goes over to Hamilton's hurdy-gurdy an' finds relaxation an' relief. Now yere comes this stranger an' I makes it fifty dollars even he's from Massachusetts an' what does he do? Never antes nor sticks in a white chip, but purloins Hamilton's strains, an' pulls off his dances tharby.
The riches an' the poverty of Wolfville is sort o' exposin' itse'f 'round onder his nose; it's a open book to him; an' the knowledge of who's flat, or who's flush, is thrust onto him continyoous. As I says, bein' some sentimental about them hard ships of others, the information costs Cherokee hard onto a diurnal stack or two.
"'You can gamble a pony she comes, says Texas. 'If it's a wife, now, like mine which goes ropin' 'round for a divorce over in Laredo recent; an', as you-all is aware, she shorely ties it down thar might be a chance out ag'in her advent. But bein' she's his mother, Wolfville may as well brace itse'f for the shock.
"No, I ain't a believer in that enthoosiastic sense that fights its way to the mourner's bench an' manifests itse'f with groans that daunts hoot-owls into silence. Thar don't appear many preachers out West in my day. Now an' then one of these yere divines, who's got strayed or drifted from his proper range, comes buttin' his way into Wolfville an' puts us up a sermon, or a talkee-talkee.
Squar' Alexanders is waitin' for him in the bar. When he shows up, carelessly pickin' his teeth, it's mebby half a hour before the show, Squar' Alexanders don't fritter away no time, but rounds up the wizard. ""Thar's no show which has Satan for a silent partner goin' to cut itse'f loose in this village," says Squar' Alexanders. ""What's this talk about Satan?" responds the wizard.
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