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Updated: June 11, 2025


I told you I knew how to run one of these grafts, didn't I? Didn't I, now?" Wasn't that just like the old smarty? You never know when you got him nailed. And feeling so good over getting even with the Wales couple that had about a thousand dollars of his money that very minute! Still from the dimly lighted bunk house came the wail of Sandy Sawtelle to make vibrant the night.

They have also been driven by the same driver, a colored man, of the name of Edward Wesley Williams. He was with Captain Sawtelle until the 1st of March, 1862; was then transferred, with his team, to the City of Washington, and placed under a wagon-master of the name of Horn, who belonged to Harrisburg, Pa.

It was fitted out at Berryville, Maryland, early in the spring of 1861, under the directions of Captain Sawtelle, A. Q. M. They are all small, compact mules, and I had them photographed in order to show them together. The leaders and swing, or, as some call them, the middle leaders, have been worked steadily together in the same team since December 31, 1861.

What they were doing there I could not imagine, for neither had the look of habitues of such a place. I followed Kennedy's eye and found that he was gazing furtively at a flashily dressed young man who was sitting alone at the far end in a sort of booth upholstered in leather. The girl in white, whom I was now sure was Miss Sawtelle, went over and greeted him.

Not until we are well out in the sun, with the second cigarette going good, shall we again become credulous about life and safe to address. It is no meal to linger over. We grimly rise from the wrecked table and clatter out. Only one of us that matchless optimist, Sandy Sawtelle sounds a flat note in the symphony of disillusion.

Jimmie might be said to prevail. There was a fatuous tenderness in his attack and the thudding currycomb gave it spirit. Came a dramatic and equally soulful interpolation: "Whoa, dang you! You would, would you? Whoa-a-a, now!" Buck Devine still mouthed his woful whistle and Sandy Sawtelle valiantly strove for the true and just accord of his six strings. It was no place for a passive soul.

Down on the flat lands they had waving fields of popcorn and up above here they had a thousand acres of ripening peanuts; and Sandy Sawtelle, the king of the humourists, he hit on another idea that would bring in fifty thousand dollars a year just on the side.

"They offered me five hundred dollars a span for mine." "No, ma'am I mean, yes, ma'am!" "That's all. I thought you'd rejoice to know it." The lady turned to me as if Mr. Sawtelle had left us. "Yes, sir; he'd make you die laughing with some of his pranks, that madcap would. I tell you, when he begins cutting up " But Mr. Sawtelle was leaving us rapidly.

"That's right," I says; "take it out on the poor woman that's trying to win a nice bungalow with big sawed corners sticking out all over it, when that cut-throat Sandy Sawtelle has win about twice as much! That ain't the light of pure reason I had the right to expect from the Bazaar King of Red Gap." "That's neither here nor there," says he with petulance.

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