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She had learned the symptoms of epizoötic whatever that was and poll-evil and stringhalt, and had gone from that to making a shopping tour through a Montgomery-Ward catalogue. There was nothing else in the house to read, except a half-dozen old copies of the Boise News. There was nothing to do, nothing lo see, no one to talk to.
Don't buy any cheap, weighty stuff here, because the freight will eat up all you save. But I'll leave that to you folks; I guess you've had experience enough " "Considering most of us learned our a-b-c's outa Montgomery-Ward catalogues," Weary observed with a quirk of the lips, "I guess you can safely leave it to the bunch.
"That Montgomery-Ward cowpuncher has been drunk again, evidently," he commented. "I wouldn't call him that. I'm told he can rope and ride with any of them." He looked at her quickly. "You seem to keep track of him." She replied bluntly: "He interests me." "Why?" curtly. Canby looked malicious as he added: "He's a fizzle." "He'll get his second wind some day and surprise you." "He will?"
Morgan docs not approve of such fiction. He confided to me that he finds more entertainment, of a winter's night, in perusing a Sears-Roebuck or a Montgomery-Ward catalogue. And and do you know what I admitted to him? No? Well, I told him that some of the happiest moments of my life had been spent in just such fashion. I've always thought they were fascinating!"
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