compared to his--a gentle,
rock-me-to-sleep-mother tint, whilst his got up and cussed every other
colour in the rainbow. Yes, sir; there he sat, and he was knittin' a
pair of socks! For ten seconds I forgot how good an excuse I had to be
vexed, and just braced myself on my arms and looked at him and blinked.
"Well, no wonder, Pepe busted," thinks I, and with that my troubles
come back to me. "I don't know what in the name of Uncle Noah's pet
elephant you are," says I to myself. "Male and female he made 'em
after their kind, and your mate may do me up, but if I don't take a
hustle out of you there'll be no good reason for it." And feeling this
way, I moved to him.

[Illustration: Yes, sir; there he sat, and he was knittin' a pair of
socks!]

"Now," says I, "explain yourself."

"Heugh!" says he, just flittin' his little gray eyes on me and going on
with his knittin' as if he hadn't seen anything worth wasting eyesight
on.

I swallered hard. "Another break like that," I thinks, "and his family
have no complaint."

"One more question and you are done," says I. "Do you think it's fair
to sit on a hill and look like this? How would you feel if you come on
me unexpected, and I looked like you?"

By way of reply, he reached behind him--so did I. But it wasn't a gun
he brought forth; it was a sort of big toy balloon with three sticks to
it. Without so much as a glance in my direction, he proceeded to blow
on one stick and wiggle his fingers on the others. Instantly our good
Arizona air was tied in a knot. It was great in its way. You could
hear every stroke of the man filing the saw; the cow with the wolf in
her horn bawled as natural as could be, and as for the stuck pig, it
sounded so life-like I expected to see him round the corner. But at
the same time it was no kind of an answer to my question, and I kicked
the musical implement high in the air, sitting down on my shoulder
blades to watch it go, and also to acknowledge receipt of one bunch of
fives in the right eye, kindness of Grandma in the short skirts.
Beware of appearances! Nothin' takes so much from the fierce
appearance of a man as short skirts and sock-knitting, but up to this
date the hand of man hasn't pasted me such a welt as I got that day.

Then, sir, Grandma and I had a real good old-fashioned time. I grabbed
him and heaved him over the top of my head. "Heugh!" says he as he
flew. He'd no more than touched ground before he had me nai