e held my hat for a wind-break, and I got my paper pipe
together. And then--not a match. I searched every pocket. Not a
lucifer. That is more of what I got for being funny and changing
my clothes. And then she happened to think of a box she had for
travelling, and fished it out of her grip.

"'Young lady,' I says, 'until it comes to be your bad luck--which I
hope won't ever happen--to be very much in love with a man who
won't play back, you'll never properly know the pangs of a man
that's got all the materials to smoke with except the fire. Now,
if I have a chance to do as much for you sometime, I'm there.'

"She laughed and crinkled up her eyes at me. 'All right, Mr.
Saunders. When that obdurate man disdains me, I'll call for your
help.'

"'The place for the man that would disdain you is an asylum,' says
I. 'And the only help I'd give you would be to put him there.'
She blushed real nice. I like to see a woman blush. It's a trick
they can't learn.

"But I see she was put out by my easy talk, so I gave her a pat on
the back and says, 'Don't mind me, little girl. We fellers see an
eighteen-carat woman so seldom that it goes to our heads. There
wasn't no offence meant, and you'll be foolish if you put it there.
Let's shake hands.'

"So she laughed again and shook. I mean _shook_. It wasn't like
handing you so much cold fish--the way some women shake hands. And
Loys and me, we were full pards from date.

"I made one more bad break on the home trip.

"'Jonesy will be powerful glad to see you,' says I.

"'Jonesy!' says she, surprised. 'Jonesy! Oh, is that what you
call Uncle Albert?'

"'Well, it does sometimes happen that way," says I. And then my
anti-George Washington blood rose again. 'You see, he was kind of
lonesome out there at first, and we took to calling him Jonesy to
cheer him up and make him feel at home,' I says.

"'Oh!' says she. And I reckon she didn't feel so horribly awful
about it, for after looking straight towards the Gulf of Mexico for
a minute, suddenly she bust right out and hollered. It seems that
Jones cut a great deal of grass to a swipe when he was back home in
his own street. It's astonishing how little of a man it takes to
do that in the East. We had an argument once on the subject.
'It's intellect does it,' says Silver Tompkins. 'Oh, that's it,
eh?' says Wind-River Smith. 'Well, I'm glad I'm not troubled that
way. I'd rather have a forty-four chest than a