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Might come handy, some time; only Tige, he hates the sound of it like he hates porkypines or badgers. "Mary and me and Tige laid up in Los Angeles fer a spell, resting the cattle. All greasers, down there and fleas and take the two t'gether, they jest about wore out the hull kit and b'ilin' of us. "What's pesterin' the ole feller?
"But ye don't know everythin', Joe Barron. It wa'n't no weasel as was takin' them there aigs!" "What were it then?" demanded the woodsman, incredulously. "It was two big porkypines an' a monstrous big wildcat," answered Mrs. Gammit in triumph. "Did ye ketch 'em at it?" asked the woodsman, with a faint note of sarcasm in his voice. But the sarcasm glanced off Mrs. Gammit's armour.
Gammit snorted at the sarcasm. "Mebbe," she sneered, "ye kin tell me why it's so impossible it could be porkypines. I seen a big porkypine back o' the barn, only yestiddy. An' that's more'n kin be said o' yer weasels, an' foxes, an' skunks, what ye're so sure about, Mr. Barron." "A porkypine ain't necessarily after aigs jest because he's back of a barn," said the woodsman.
And there, indisputably, were the porcupines, bothering her all the time, with unheard-of impudence. Weasels, indeed! "'Twa'n't you I was after," she muttered obstinately, apostrophizing the now motionless form in the rain-barrel. "It was them dratted porkypines, as comes after my aigs. But ye're a bad lot, too, an' I'm right glad to have got ye where ye won't be up to no mischief."
It awoke the farmer, who rubbed his eyes, arose on his elbow, listened a moment, muttered, "Another of them durn porkypines!" and dropped to sleep again. When the leisurely adventurer had eaten as much of the box as he could hold, he took it into his head to go home, which meant, to any comfortable tree back in the woods. His home was at large.
"Porkypines!" propounded Mrs. Gammit, with a sudden smile of triumph. Joe Barron neither spoke nor smiled. But in his silence there was something that made Mrs. Gammit uneasy. "Why not porkypines?" she demanded, her face once more growing severe. "It might be porkypines as took them aigs o' yourn, Mrs. Gammit, an' it might be bumbly-bees!" responded Barron. "But 'tain't likely!" Mrs.
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