kefulness same as a
teethin' babe.

"Jim was wild as a coyote 'fore he marries that girl. She come all the way
from Topeka, Kansas, thinking she was goin' to find a respectable home,
and when she come out hyear and found the place was a dance-hall, she
cried all the time. She didn't add none to the hilarity of the place. An'
one day Jim he strolled in, an' seem' the girl a-cryin' like a freshet and
wishin' she was dead, he inquired the cause. She told him how that old
harpy wrote her, an', bein' an orphant, she come out thinkin' she was
goin' to a respectable place as waitress, an' Jim he 'lowed it was a case
for the law. He was a little shy of twenty at the time, just a young
cockerel 'bout br'ilin' size. Some of the old hangers-on 'bout the place
they see a heap of fun in Jim's takin' on 'bout the girl, he bein' that
young that he had scarce growed a pair of spurs yet. An' one of 'em says
to him,' Sonny, if you're afeerd that this yere corral is onjurious to the
young lady's morals, we'll call in the gospel sharp, if you'll stand for
the brand.' Now Jim hadn't a cent, nor no callin', nor a prospect to his
back, but he struts up to the man that was doin' the talkin', game as a
bantam, an' he says, 'The lady ain't rakin' in anythin' but a lettle white
chip, in takin' me, but if she's willin', here's my hand.'

"At which that pore young thing cried harder than ever. Well, Jim he up
an' marries the girl an' it turns out fine. He gets a job herdin' sheep on
shares, an' she stays with the Rodney outfit till he saves enough to build
a cabin. Things is goin' with Jim like a prairie afire. In a few years he
acquires a herd of his own, a fine herd, not a scabby sheep in the bunch.
Alida she makes him the best kind of a wife, them kids is the pride of his
life, and then, them cursed cattle-men do for him. Of course, he takes to
rustlin'; I'd do more'n rustle if they'd touch mine."

The pair of broncos that Mrs. Yellett was driving humped their backs like
cats as they climbed the steep mountain-road. With her, driving was an
exact science. It was a treat to see her handle the ribbons. Mary asked
some trifling question about the children and it elicited the information
that one of the girls was named Cacta. "Yes," she said, "I like new names
for children, not old ones that is all frazzled out and folks has suffered
an' died to. It seems to start 'em fair, like playin' cards with a new
deck. Cacta's my oldest daughter, and I named