ersistent with sound morals, but I hold that a person
who scratches herself at meals ain't never quite the lady. She should do
it private.

There's the Widow O'Flynn on the trail to Hundred Mile,--she's harsh,
with a wooden limb. Besides she wants to talk old times in Abilene. I
don't.

As to the married women, I reckon that tribe is best left alone, with
respects. If you sees me agin, it will be in Heaven, and I don't aim to
disappoint you by turning up at the other place. I'd get religion,
mother, but for the sort of swine I seen converted, but even for the
sake of finding grace I ain't going to graze with them cattle.

While I've mostly kep' away from the married ladies, and said "deliver
us from temptation" regular every night, there was no harm as I came
along down, in being sorry for Mrs. Trevor. Women are reckoned mighty
cute at reading men, but I've noticed when I've struck the complete
polecat, that he's usually married. So long as a woman keeps her head
she's wiser than a man, but when she gets rattled she's a sure fool.
She'll keep her head with the common run of men, but when she strikes
the all-round stinker, like a horse runs into a fire, she ups and
marries him. Anyway, Mrs. Trevor had got there.

* * * * *

Said to be Tuesday.

Trip before last was the first time I seen this lady. The trail from
Trevor's meets in with the track from Sky-line just at the Soda Spring.
From there a sure-enough wagon road snakes down over the edge of the
bench and curves away north to Brown's Ferry. At the spring you get the
sound of the rapids, you catch the smell of the river like a wet knife,
you looks straight down into white water, and on the opposite bench is
my ranch.

Happens Jones reckoned she'd been appointed inspector of snakes, so I'd
had to lay off at the spring, and Mrs. Trevor comes along to get shut of
her trouble. She's hungry; she ain't had anything but her prize hawg to
speak to for weeks, and she's as curious as Mother Eve, anyway.
Curiosity in antelopes and women projuces venison and marriages, both
species being too swift and shy to be met up with otherwise.

She's got allusions, too, seeing things as large as a sceart horse, so
she's all out of focus, supposin' me to be romantic and picturesk,
wharas I'm a workingman out earning dollars. Still it's kind in any
lady to take an interest, and I done what you said in aiming at the
truth, no matter what I hits.

Su