ar when we pulls out. They've
retired from the world an' its cares for the night an', in our
ignorance of them chicken's domestic arrangements, we blindly takes 'em
with us. Now an' then, as we goes rackin' along, one of 'em gets
jolted off. Then he'd hang by his chin an' beat his wings; an' it's
these frenzied efforts he makes to stay with the game that evolves them
alarmin' flutterin's.

"'Jule--who don't own chickens an' who ain't no patron of cockfights
neither--is for settin' the shawl-necks on the fence an' pickin' 'em up
as we trails back from the Gander-Pullin'.

"'"As long as it's dark," says Jule, "they'll stay planted; an' we
rounds 'em up on our return."

"'But I ain't that optimistic. I knows these chickens an' they ain't
so somnolent as all that. Besides it's a cinch that a mink or a fox
comes squanderin' 'round an' takes 'em in like gooseberries. 'Leven
shawl-necks! Why, it would be a pick-up for a fox!

"'"You're a fine Injun to take a girl to a dance!" says Jule at last,
an' she's full of scorn.

"'"Injun or no Injun," I retorts a heap sullen, "thar ain't no
Gander-Pullin' goin' to jestify me in abandonin' my 'leven shawl-necks
an' me with a main to fight next month over on the Little Bloo!"

"'At that I corrals the chickens an' imprisons 'em in the r'ar of the
side-bar an' goes a-weavin' back for camp, an' I picks up three more
shawl-necks where they sets battin' their he'pless eyes in the road.

"'But I shore hears Jule's views of me as a beau! They're hot enough
to fry meat! Moreover, Jule tells all Sni-a-bar an' I'm at once a
scoff an' jeer from the Kaw to the Gasconade. Jule's old pap washes
out his rifle an' signs a pledge to plug me if ever ag'in I puts my
hand on his front gate. As I su'gests, it rooins my social c'reer in
Sni-a-bar.

"'While I'm ground like a toad that a-way beneath the harrow of this
double setback of the drum an' Jule, thar's a circus shows up an'
pitches its merry tent in Sni-a-bar. I knows this caravan of yore--for
I'm a master-hand for shows in my yooth an' allers goes--an' bein' by
virchoo of my troubles ready to plunge into dissipation's mad an'
swirlin' midst, I sa'nters down the moment the waggons shows up; an'
after that, while that circus stays, folks who wants to see me, day or
night, has to come to the show.

"'The outfit is one of them little old jim-crow shows that charges
two-bits an' stays a month; an' by the end of the first day, me an'