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Updated: May 23, 2025
But I ain't goin' to shoot you. If I was to have the sayin' of it, I'd kind o' like to shoot that hoss, though. He broke as fine a pome in the middle as I ever writ, to say nothin' of hurtin' me personal feelin's. Well, so-long, leetle toad-lizard.
Perhaps the stunner had slowed up the hound's reflexes, for those jaws stilled with a last shattering snap, the toad-lizard mask a head which was against all nature as the Terrans knew it was quiet in the strangle leash of the rope, the rest of the body serving as a cork to fill the exit hole. Taggi had been waiting only for such a chance. He sprang, claws ready.
Well, I ain't cussin' because I don' know how. Lemme see . . . I was facin' east when I started. Now I'm lit, and I'm facin' south. Me hat's there, and that there toad-lizard oughter be over there, if he ain't scared to death. Reckon I'll quit writin' po'try jest at present and finish gettin' acquainted with that there toad-lizard. Wonder how far I got to walk?
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