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Updated: August 28, 2024
He never forgot his children or his children's children, but they're none too fond o' rememberin' him. "Everythin' you have now, he first showed you how. If he wanted a house, he had to build it; if he wanted bread, he had to raise the grain, grind, an' bake it; if he wanted clothin', he had to get skins, cure, an' sew 'em.
I reckon I'm very little good now, but I'm rememberin' the things I used to do befo' I took to transpo'tin' real estate with the help an' assistance of this gentleman here." He looked at Muldoon. "Invijjus arterficial hind legs!" said the ex-carhorse, with a grunt of contempt.
"Ye haven't by any chance forgotten somethin' ye'd like to be rememberin', have ye?" she asked, diplomatically. "I don't know," and the cobbler pulled his thinking-lock. "What might it be?" "Sure, it might be a faery penny," and Bridget eyed him anxiously. The cobbler slapped his apron and laughed again. "To be sure it might and I came near forgetting it."
God has made sunny spots in the heart; why should we exclude the light from them?" "Stick a pin in that, Doctor," says I, "for it's worth rememberin' as a wise saw." He then took up his wallet, and retired to his room to change his clothes, saying to himself, in an under-tone: "Stick a pin in it. What a queer phrase; and yet it's expressive, too. It's the way I preserve my insects."
Thet's what gave him the name Hell-Bent.... An' Coles swore thet Wade was the whitest man he ever knew. Heart of gold, he said. Always savin' somebody, helpin' somebody, givin' his money or time never thinkin' of himself a-tall.... When he began to tell thet story about Cripple Creek then my ole head begun to ache with rememberin'. Fer I'd heerd Bent Wade talk before.
That's where Spanish Bill launches that bread of his'n; an' the way it later turns out it sorter b'ars down on me, an' keeps me rememberin' what that skyscout says at the pra'r-meetin' about the action a gent gets by playin' a good deed to win. "'It's the middle of January, mebby two months later, when I'm over on the Upper Caliente about fifty miles back of the Spanish Peaks.
Now, Mamma, we can't let this goof stay here all night. I guess he's a thief. I ain't goin' to let the folks have a laugh on you. Didn't your father always keep a diary?" "Think of your rememberin' that, Dammy! Yes, always." "That's what Frisco's readin' up in. He's smart. Used to do im'tations of actors and cry like a hose pipe. Spotted that. Where's the strawb'ry jam?" "Right here, Dammy.
'Yes, I said, as she seemed waiting for my comment, 'I see. 'Wal, I come along slow, and right down by wall, I'll show you the place, I'm awful bad 'bout rememberin' names; but when I'd got more'n half-way home, an' was 'most up to a house that stood close to the street, I see the door begin to open, real careful at first, an' then quick; an' then out of the house came a tall man.
He said slowly, at length: "Buck, I kind of think you're right. They ain't no use in me. I been rememberin', Buck, how you sent Kate to me when I was sick." There was a loud clatter; the revolver dropped from the hand of Buck Daniels. The musical voice of Dan Barry murmured again: "And I remember how you stood up to Jim Silent, for my sake. Buck, what's come between us since them days?
When folks git to rememberin', it looks like the only thing they want to call up is the pleasure they've had, the picnics and the weddin's and the tea-parties. But somehow the work I've done in my day is jest as precious to me as the play I've had.
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