ot of the bed, watchin'
of 'em, them fast asleep. 'Too late now,' says he to me. 'Too late.
All over now!' I didn't know what he meant till I looked under the
bedclothes; and there was a pan full of ginger cakes the woman had made
for the fam'ly. You needn't tell me a parrot can't think."

"It would seem," said Dan Anderson, meditatively, "that we may report
progress in civilization."

"But say, fellers," remarked Curly, taking off his hat and scratching
his head perplexedly, "sometimes I wish Bill was a chicken hawk instead
of a talker. There is rats, or mice, or something, got into this
valley at last."

"Do you want any drugs?" asked Doc Tomlinson, suddenly.

"No, not yet," Curly shook his head. "Never did see airy rat or mouse
round here, but still, things is happenin' that looks right strange.

"It's this-a-way, fellers," he continued, "--set down here and let me
tell you." So they all sat down and leaned back against the fence of
Whiteman's corral.

"Last Christmas," Curly began at the beginning, "why, you see, my girl,
she got a Christmas present from some of her folks back in Kansas, in
the States. It was a pair of candy legs."

"What's that, Curly?" said Dan Anderson, half sitting up.

"Legs," said Curly, "made out of candy, about so long, or maybe a
little longer. Red, and white, and blue--all made out of candy, you
know. Shoes on the feet, buckles on the shoes, and heels. Sort of
frill around on top. The feller that made them things could shore do
candy a-plenty. They was too pretty to eat up, so the little woman,
she done put 'em in the parlor,--on the table like, in the middle of
the floor; tied 'em together with a blue ribbon and left 'em there.
Now, you all know right well that's the only pair of candy legs in
Heart's Desire."

"That's legitimate distinction, Curly," Dan Anderson decided. "It
entitles your family to social prominence."

"Oh, we wasn't stuck up none over that," laughed Curly, modestly, "but
we always felt kind of comfortable, thinkin' them there legs was right
there on the parlor table in the other room. You can't help feelin'
good to have some little ornyment like that around the place, you know,
special if there's women around. But now, fellers, what I was goin' to
say is, there's mice, or rats, got in on this range some how, and
they--"

"Why didn't you put 'em in a box?" asked McKinney, severely. "You
ain't got sense enough to know the difference between a