he
don't upset is bottles; the only flooid he never spills is licker.
This yere last would be ag'inst his religion. Wharever he goes, he's
otherwise draggin' his rope, an' half the time he's steppin' on it.

"It's him that coaxes that onhappy Polish picture painter our way.
This yere is long after he's drivin' stage, an' as Wolfville's
offishul drunkard becomes a tol'rated feachure of the camp. This
Polish artist person is as much out o' place in Arizona as a faro
lay-out at a Sunday school picnic. Monte crosses up with him over at
Tucson in the Oriental S'loon, an' while thar's no ties between 'em,
more'n what nacherally forms between two gents who sets drinkin'
together all night long, before ever they're through with each other
that inspired inebriate lands the locoed artist party on our hands.
Enright shore does go the limit in rebookin' Monte.

"'Why, Sam,' says Monte, an' he's that depreecatory he whines, 'I
allows you'll look on him as a acquisition.'

"'All the same,' returns Enright, an' I never knows him more
forbiddin', 'yereafter please confine your annoyin' assidooities to
drivin' stage, an' don't go tryin' to improve the outlook of this
camp.'

"Monte, with this, gets that dismal he sheds tears. 'Which it shore
looks like I can't do nothin' right,' he sobs.

"'Then don't,' says Enright.

"From the start, Monte graves himse'f upon the mem'ry of folk as the
first sport, to onroll his blankets in Cochise County, who consoomes
normal over twenty drinks a day. Upon festal occasions like Noo
Year's, an' Christmas, an' Fo'th of Jooly, an' Thanksgivin', no gent
who calls himse'f a gent thinks of keepin' tabs on a fellow gent, no
matter how freequent he signs up to Black Jack. On gala o'casions,
sech as them noted, the bridle is plumb off the hoss, an' even though
you drinks to your capac'ty an' some beyond, no one's that vulgar as
to go makin' remarks. But that ain't Monte; he's different a heap. It
looks like every day is Fo'th of Jooly with him, he's that inveterate
in his reemorseless hankerin' for nosepaint.

"Also, regyarded as to his social side, Monte, as I states former, is
a nooisance. Knowin' folks, too, is his fad. Only so you give him
licker enough, he'll go surgin' round accostin' every gent he sees. No
matter how austere a stranger is, Monte'll tackle him. An' at that he
never says nothin' worth hearin', an' in its total absence of
direction his conversation resembles nothin' so much as a do