Red Saunders Pets and Other Critters | Page 6

of hot iron,
and no heat, as usual. On it rested a wash-basin, wherein some snow
was melting for the morning ablutions. A candle projected a sort of
palpable yellow gloom into the grey icy morning air. I dressed rapidly.
As I slept in overcoat and cap, this was no great matter. A pair of
German socks and arctics completed my attire. Evidently I had been
put upon the floor by the hand of Oscar. For this, when Oscar stretched
his nether garment tight, in the act of washing his face, I smote him

upon the fulness thereof with a long plug of chewing tobacco. "Aow!"
he yelled, recurving like a bow and putting his hands to his wound.
Promptly we clinched and fell upon old Charley. To the floor the three
went, amid a shower of sparks from the cob pipe. "You dam pesky
kids!" said the angry voice of Charles (the timbre of that voice, after
travelling through four inches of nose, is beyond imitation). "Get off'n
me! Quit now! Stop yer blame foolin'!"
[Illustration: Get off'n me!]
Oscar and I swallowed our giggles and rolled all over Charley. "Well,
by Jeeroosha!" came from the bottom of the heap in the tone of one
who has reached the breaking point of astonished fury. "I'm goin' to do
some shootin' when this is over--yes, sir, I won't hold back no more--ef
you boys don't git off'n me this minit, so help me Bob! I'll bite yer!"
This was a real danger, and we skipped off him briskly. "Why,
Charley," explained Oscar, "you see, we got so excited that we didn't
notice----"
"There's Steve now," interrupted Charley, pointing with a long crooked
forefinger to the doorway. "Well, Steve! I'm glad you come. I just want
you to see the kind of goin's on there is here." Charles cleared his throat
and stuck his thumb in his vest. "F'r instance, this mornin', I sittin' right
there in that corner, not troublin' nobody, when up gets that
splay-footed, sprawlin', lumberin' bull-calf of an Oscar, an' that
mischievious, sawed-off little monkey of a Harry, and they goes to
pullin' and tusslin', and they jes' walks up and down on me, same's if I
was a flight of steps. Now, you know, Steve, I'm a man of sagassity an'
experiunce, an' I ain't goin' to stand fur no such dograsslin'. I felt like
doin' them boys ser'us damage, but they're young, and life spreads
green and promisin' befo' 'em, like a banana tree; consequently I prefer
jus' to tell you my time is handed in."
Charley was proudly erect. His arms stretched aloft. His one yellow
tooth rested on his lower lip; his face, the thickness and texture of a
much-worn leather pocketbook, showed a tinge of colour as the words
went to his head like wine.

Steve looked at the floor. "Too bad, Charley; too bad," he said in grave
sympathy. "But probably we can fix it up. Now, as we have company,
would you mind hitting the breakfast trail?"
"After I've made a few remarks," returned Charles haughtily.
Steve dropped on a stool. "Sick your pup on," he said. Charley leaped
at the opportunity.
"There are some things I sh'd like to mention," said he. We noted with
pleasure that he wore his sarcastic manner. "F'r instance, you doubtless
behold them small piles of snow on the floo', which has come in
through certain an' sundry holes in the wall that orter been chinked last
fall. Is it my place to chink them holes? The oldes' an' mose
experiunced man in the hull cat-hop? I reckon otherwise. Then why
didn't they git chinked? Why is it that the snows and winds of an
outraged and jus'ly indignant Providence is allowed to introdoose
theirselves into this company unrebuked?
"I have heard a' great deal, su', about the deadenin' effeck produced
upon man's vigger by a steady, reliable, so'thern climate. As a citizen of
the State of Texas fo' twenty years I repel the expersion with scorn and
hoomiliation. Nevertheless and notwithstanding, 'lowing' that to be the
truth, did you encounter anything in this here country to produce such
an effeck? For Gawd's sake, su', if there's anything in variety, a man
livin' here orter lay holt of the grass roots, fur fear he'd git so durn
strong he couldn't stay on the face of the yearth. Ef it ain't so sinful cold
that yer ears'll drap off at a touch, it's so hell-fire hot that a man's
features melt all over his face, and ef it ain't so solemn still that you're
scart to death, the wind'll blow the buttonholes outer yer clo's'. I have
seen it do a hull yearful of stunts in twenty-four hours, encludin' hot an'
cold weather, thunderstorms, drought, high water,