chair, insert the stem of his
corncob pipe in an opening provided by nature at the cost of a
tooth, and tell us about it.

[Illustration: "Scraggsy looked like a forlorn hope lost in a fog."]

"Why can't people be honest?" said Mr. Scraggs--_Silence_!

"Charley!" cried Red, reproachfully, "why don't you tell the
gentleman?"

"No, no, no!" replied Charley. "You be older'n me, Red--you
explain."

"Well," said Red, "I suppose the loss of their hair kind of
discourages 'em."

"I had rather," meditated Mr. Scraggs, "I had much rather wear the
top of my head a smooth white record of a well-spent life than go
amblin' around the country like the Chicago fire out for a walk,
and I repeat: Why can't people be honest?"

"I begin to pity somebody an awful lot," said Red. "Did you send
him home barefoot?"

"You go on!" retorted Mr. Scraggs. "I fell into the hands of the
Filly-steins oncet, and they put the trail of the serpent all over
me. I run into the temple of them twin false gods, Mammon and
Gammon, and I stood to draw one suit of sack-cloth and a four-mule
wagon-load of ashes."

"Is them the close you got on now?" said Charley. "And what did
you get for the ashes?"

"The play come up like this," said Scraggs. "After my eighteenth
bestowin' of the honored name of Scraggs upon a person that didn't
appreciate it the Mormon Church see fit to assume a few duties on
me. I was put in a position of importance in a placer minin'
districk inhabited by jack-rabbits, coyotes, Chinamen, and Mrs.
Scraggses. And still I wasn't happy. Them jack-rabbits et up my
little garding patch; the coyotes gathered at nights and sung me
selections from the ghost dance; the Chinamen sprung every
con-cussed trick on me that a man who wears his whiskers down his
back can think of; and day and night alike, Mrs. Scraggs, from one
to eighteen, informed me what I'd ort to do.

"I tried to strike up a little friendly conversation with the
Chinks, for variety, but it weren't no use. A Chinaman'll be a
Mormon, or a Democrat, or a cannibal, or any other durn thing for
five cents, sixty days from date. He ain't got any more natural
convictions than a Missouri River catfish. They'd just keep
a-watchin' my face so's they could agree with me. Now, I didn't
want that. I wanted to get up an argument with somebody I could
sass back, because in my own house, where I was lord and master, if
I happened to remark it was a nice, bright day everyb