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Updated: May 19, 2025
So so, I'll cut out the wash-trough." "You most generally do," said Toby pleasantly. "You ain't comic 'cep' when you're feedin'," retorted Sunny, nettled. Then he turned to Minky, just as the doorway of the store was darkened by the advent of Sandy Joyce. But he glanced back in the newcomer's direction and nodded. Then he went on immediately with his talk.
So mad, I mean, you want to get right out an' hurt somebody or somethin'? So mad, folks is likely to git busy an' string you up with a rawhide? I'm sure mostly dead easy as a man, but I feel that away jest about now. I've sed to myself I'd do best settin' my head in your wash-trough. I've said it more'n oncet in the last half-hour. But I don't guess it's any sort o' use.
It was not much of a toilet that I made in this first wash-trough of my experience, but it had to suffice, and I took my seat at supper. Canned stuff it was, corned beef. And one of my table companions said the truth about it. "When I slung my teeth over that," he remarked, "I thought I was chewing a hammock." We had strange coffee, and condensed milk; and I have never seen more flies.
Yet I was doing better than I knew; my strict silence and attention to the corned beef made me in the eyes of the cow-boys at table compare well with the over-talkative commercial travellers. The Virginian's entrance produced a slight silence. He had done wonders with the wash-trough, and he had somehow brushed his clothes. With all the roughness of his dress, he was now the neatest of us.
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