to. And I reckon it's none of
anybody's business.

Well, it makes you feel kind of funny. You want to go out and pick on
somebody about four sizes bigger'n you are and knock the socks off'n
him. It stands to reason others has felt that-a-way, but you don't
believe it. You want to tell people about it one minute. The next minute
you have got chills and ague fur fear some one will guess it. And you
think the way you are about her is going to last fur always.

That evening, when I was cooking supper, I laughed every time I was
spoke to. When Looey and I was hitching up to drive down town to give
the show, one of the hosses stepped on his foot and I laughed at that,
and there was purty nigh a fight. And I was handling some bottles and
broke one and cut my hand on a piece of glass. I held it out fur a
minute dumb-like, with the blood and medicine dripping off of it, and
all of a sudden I busted out laughing agin. The doctor asts if I am
crazy. And Looey says he has thought I was from the very first, and some
night him and the doctor will be killed whilst asleep. One of the things
we have every night in the show is an Injun dance, and Looey and I sings
what the doctor calls the Siwash war chant, whirling round and round
each other, and making licks at each other with our tommyhawks, and
letting out sudden wild yips in the midst of that chant. That night I
like to of killed Looey with that tommyhawk, I was feeling so good. If
it had been a real one, instead of painted-up wood, I would of killed
Looey, the lick I give him. The worst part of that was that, after the
show, when we got back to camp and the hosses was picketed out fur the
night, I had to tell Looey all about how I felt fur an explanation of
why I hit him.

Which it made Looey right low in his sperrits, and he shakes his head
and says no good will come of it.

"Did you ever hear of Romeo and Joliet?" he says:

"Mebby," I says, "but what it was I hearn I can't remember. What about
them?"

"Well," he says, "they carried on the same as you. And now where are
they?"

"Well," I says, "where are they?"

"In the tomb," says Looey, very sad, like they was closte personal
friends of his'n. And he told me all about them and how Young Cobalt had
done fur them. But from what I could make out it all happened away back
in the early days. And shucks!--I didn't care a dern, anyhow. I told him
so.

"Well," he says, "It's been the history of the world that it brings
trou