cattle over there by yer father's south place, an' never went to school.
Ma, Josie's ma, y' know, kep' the Greenwood school, an' crossed the
prairie there where I was a-herdin', an' I used to look at her mighty
longin' as she went by, when the cattle happened to be clost along the
track, which they right often done. You know how them things go. An'
fin'ly one morning a blue racer chased her, as the little whelps will,
an' got his dummed little teeth fastened in her dress, an' she
a-hyperin' around haff crazy, and a-screamin' every jump, so's't I hed
to just grab her, an' hold her till I could get the blasted snake
off,--harmless, y' know, but got hooked teeth, an' not a lick o'
sense,--an' he kinder quirled around my arm, an' I nacherally tore him
to ribbins a-gittin' of him off. An' then she sort o' dropped off, an'
when she come to, I was a-rubbin' her hands an' temples. Wa'n't that a
funny interduction?"

"It's very interesting," said I; "go on."

"W'l you remember ol' Doc Maxfield?" said Bill, well started on a
reminiscence. "Wal, he come along, an' said it was the worst case of
collapse, whatever that means, that he ever see--her lips an' hands an'
chin all a-tremblin', an' flighty as a loon. Wal, after that I used to
take her around some, an' her folks objected becuz I was ignorant, an'
she learnt me some things, an' bein' strong an' a good dancer an' purty
good-lookin' she kind o' forgot about my failin's, an' we was married.
Her folks said she'd throwed herself away; but I could buy an' sell the
hull set of 'em now!"

This seemed conclusive as to the merits of the case, and I told him as
much.

"W'l Josie was born an' growed up," continued Bill, "an' it's her I
started to tell about, wa'n't it? She was allus a cute little thing, an'
early she got this art business in her head. She'd read about fellers
that had got to be great by paintin' an' carvin', an' it made her wild
to do the same thing. Wa'n't there a feller that pulled hair outer the
cat to paint Injuns with? Yes, I thought they was; I allus thought they
could paint theirselves good enough; but that story an' some others she
read an' read when she was a little gal, an' she was allus a-paintin'
an' makin' things with clay. She took a prize at the county fair when
she was fourteen, with a picter of Washin'ton crossin' the
Delaware--three dollars, by gum! An' then we hed to give her lessons;
an' they wasn't any one thet knew anything around here, she sa