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And while they sort of squabble about this, with Cousin Egbert very pig-headed or adamant, who should come in but this Sandy Sawtelle, that's now sobbing out his heart in song down there; and with him is Buck Devine. It seems they been looking for a game, and they give squeals of joy when they see this one.
Müller's published statements. Last of all, the Rev. Dr. Sawtelle, a gentleman known to thousands in this country, has added his independent testimony to the truth of all that is here related. More conclusive evidence to the truth of facts cannot be desired. To account for a fact is to refer it to some general law whose existence is already established.
W. L. Sawtelle of Williams, who knew this great player in his playing days, writes as follows: "No Williams contemporary of Walter Bullard Street can forget two outstanding facts of his college career: his immaculate personal character and his undisputed title to first rank among the football men whom Williams has developed.
The faces of the others wore not even the tribute of pretended ennui. They had betrayed an elaborate deafness. They now affected to believe that Sandy Sawtelle had not related an anecdote. They spoke casually and with an effect of polished ease while yet here capitulated, as tale-tellers so often will.
Sawtelle received back his knitting. His pose was to appear vastly preoccupied and deaf to insult. He was still counting stitches as he turned away and clattered down the steps. "Say!" called his employer. Sandy turned. "Yes, ma'am!" "You seen the party that stopped here this morning in that big, pompous touring car?" "No, ma'am!" "They was after mules." "Yes, ma'am!"
Where did I put that dusting cloth?" "It takes all kinds of foreigners to make a world," said Ma Pettengill irrelevantly I thought, because the remark seemed to be inspired merely by the announcement of Sandy Sawtelle that the mule Jerry's hip had been laid open by a kick from the mule Alice, and that the bearer of the news had found fourteen stitches needed to mend the rent.
"What about that sufferer down there in the bunk house?" I demanded. "Didn't you ever have toothache?" "No; neither did Sandy Sawtelle. He ain't a sufferer; he's just a liar." "Why?" "So I'll let him go to town and play the number of them stitches on the wheel. Sure!
Kennedy and I were trying to act as if we were enjoying the cabaret show and not too much interested in the little drama that was being acted before us. I think little Miss Sawtelle noticed, however, that we were looking often her way.
We found he was willing to try anything that looked easy; for instance, like setting on colts for the first time. The first morning he went to work it was rainy, with the ground pretty wet, and he was out to the corral watching Sandy Sawtelle break a colt. That's the best time to handle colts that has never been set on.
The others also groaned as if in unbearable anguish. Only the veterinary and I were polite. "Oh, let him get it offen his chest," urged Buck wearily. "He'll perish if he don't having two men here that never heard him tell it." He turned upon the raconteur, with a large sweetness of manner: "Excuse me, Mr. Sawtelle! Pray do go on with your thrilling reminiscence. I could just die listening to you.
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