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diff --git a/old/66823-0.txt b/old/66823-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 6f06737..0000000 --- a/old/66823-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,1520 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg eBook of Wise Men and a Mule, by W. C. Tuttle - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and -most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms -of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you -will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before -using this eBook. - -Title: Wise Men and a Mule - -Author: W. C. Tuttle - -Release Date: November 26, 2021 [eBook #66823] - -Language: English - -Produced by: Roger Frank and Sue Clark - -*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK WISE MEN AND A MULE *** - - -[Illustration] - - WISE MEN AND A MULE - - by W. C. Tuttle - - Author of “Tippecanoe and Cougars Two,” “Powder Law,” etc. - - -“She’s the beautifulest story ever wrote. I tell yuh she’s a dinger, -and I’m a heap in favor of showin’ it to the multitude, _ad lib_, also -visibly.” - -“Magpie” Simpkins shifts his feet on the table and leans back in his -chair, acting like he’s said something real smart. - -“The best ever told,” admits “Old Testament” Tilton. “I longs to see -it portrayed piously and with feelin’ aforethought.” - -“But can she be done?” asks Wick Smith. “The time is short.” - -“Piperock can do anything she sets out to do,” states Magpie. - -“And everything else that could possibly happen between the time she -starts and the time she finishes,” says I. - -“I figured it was about time for you to say something, Ike,” opines -Magpie. - -Me and “Dirty Shirt” Jones wasn’t invited to this conference, but -we’re there anyway. Buck Masterson, Wick Smith, Judge Steele, Old -Testament and Magpie are the committee. Dirty said there’d likely be -need of substitutes before the meeting had gone far, so we took it -upon ourselves to attend. - -“Three wise men won’t be hard to find,” opines Buck. - -“Town’s full of ’em,” says Dirty. “Why stop at three?” - -“You’ve spoke your piece, Dirty,” states the judge. - -“We’ve got to have a star, ain’t we?” asks Buck. - -“Yeah, we sure have,” admits Wick. - -“Beyond the shadder of a doubt in my mind,” says the judge. “The star -must be there, sheddin’ its effulgent rays across the desert, lightin’ -up the—uh—place, as it were. It’s goin’ to be hard to get a suitable -camule or camules.” - -“Camule?” asks Buck. “Them humpbacked quadruples?” - -“Cam-el,” corrects Magpie. “Yeah, we’ve got to have one. We’ve got to -have a lot of presents and——” - -“Who’s going to be Sandy Claws?” asks Dirty. - -“Nobody!” snaps Magpie. “Them things are out of date. We’re just -steppin’ along ahead of them ancient has-beens, yuh betcha. Nobody can -go home from this celebration and say we had the same old stuff.” - -“Be —— lucky if they has the use of their vocal cords ten days -afterwards,” opines Dirty. “Piperock’s Merry Christmas has always -knocked —— out of Happy New Year’s. I suppose you’ll frame up a death -trap and charge us a dollar apiece to get butchered for a Piperock -Holiday.” - -“This is goin’ to be free,” states Magpie. - -“Just like a suicide,” sighs Dirty. - -“Since when was you and Ike Harper invited to this meetin’?” asks -Wick. “’Pears to me——” - -“We’re going out,” says I, “but before we erases ourselves from your -presence we’d like to orate open and free that we will not be part, -parcel nor accessory to anything pertaining to or being of a Piperock -entertainment. We will not do this nor that, and neither will we do -thus and so. We will toil not and neither will we spin to any extent. -Our hearts are hard and our minds are made up like a mule’s.” - -“Better wait until you’re asked,” advises Magpie. - -“No trouble to sound a warning,” says Dirty Shirt. - -“You’d ask in vain, Magpie,” says I. - -“I am full of wisdom——” - -“Don’t argue with that animated flagpole,” says Dirty. “You never get -no place talkin’ back to him, Ike.” - -Dirty was right. I might as well argue with the shadder of death, -because Magpie can’t hear nothing but his own voice in a argument, and -he knows he can hoodle me into places where an angel couldn’t find -footing nor room to flop its wings. - -I’m sleeping real hard when Magpie comes home that night, and he -proceeds to sit down on me, yanks my off ear and yells— - -“Ike!” - -I shoves him off and sets up, covering him with my gun. - -“Ike,” says he, sober-like, “what is there around here that looks the -most like a ca-mel?” - -“It’s a neck-and-neck race between you and Maud S.” - -“Thanks.” - - * * * * * - -He takes off his clothes and goes to bed, kinda chuckling to himself. -Maud S wasn’t no relation to the famous trotting mare of the same -name, unless you figure back to the dim and distant past to the time -when the devil got sore at a balky horse. He tried to haul it along by -the ears, but the horse dug in his hoofs, the same of which stretched -them ears a heap. When the devil saw what he’d done, he laughed. The -horse, being kinda sore, ruined its vocal cords mocking the devil’s -laugh. That’s how we got our first mule. - -Looking at Maud S from all angles I’d opine that she was the second -mule. - -Maudie was long. I don’t think I ever seen so much mule all in one -piece. Maud’s neck was long and looked like it might fall off any old -time and bust her crop-eared head. Her feet never wore shoes, and the -ends of her hoofs turned up like the ends of ski snowshoes. Maud was -cock-eyed in her one glass-eye, and her heart was bitter toward -mankind. - -Wick Smith owned her. He tried to sell her to a Piegan Indian, but the -old buck got one look at her and said— - -_“Diaub seahhost! Klahowya!”_ - -The same of which means— - -“Eyes of the devil! Good-by!” - -Of course Maud ain’t no cam-el, but she ain’t so danged far removed as -yuh might think. The next morning Magpie gets a heap enthused over -their meeting. - -“We sure planned out some _hy-iu_ festival. Goin’ to be great, Ike. -Sacred, solemn and satisfactory from all points of the compass.” - -“Undertakingly speaking?” - -“Not this time. There ain’t going to be no guns allowed. Every puncher -will have to leave his gun at the door. See the idea? Bill Thatcher -says he won’t bring no orchestra, but we’ll have one just as good. -Ricky Henderson has mastered the flute, and Wick Smith’s new drum is -due here today.” - -“That’s a —— of a orchestra.” - -“Yeah? ‘Frenchy’ Deschamps fell out with Bill Thatcher, and he’s goin’ -to play his jew’s-harp in our orchestra. That makes three good pieces -for our side, Ike.” - -“Tin whistle bass drum and a pheumonia noise.” - -“Mm-m-m-m, well, it won’t be no Suzer’s band, that’s a fact, but it’ll -be music. Matilda Mudgett is going to sing something sacred, and Wick -says that his wife wants to recite.” - -“Anything that Matilda could sing would seem sacred,” says I. - -“She could sing the ‘Lone Star Trail’ and make it sound like ‘Rock of -Ages!’ Magpie, a face like hers would drive the evil from a burro’s -soul.” - -“Uh—I almost forgot, Ike. You’re going to be a wise man.” - -“You’re danged well right I am. I’m going to be so wise that I won’t -be within seven miles of here on Christmas Eve. I ain’t going to be -wise—I’m wise right now.” - -“You and Dirty Shirt and Half Mile Smith.” - -“No-oo-o-o!” - -“If you’d rather have some other two men—get ’em, Ike. I’m leavin’ -that part of it to you.” - -“No-o-o-o! I won’t speak to nobody. I’m deaf and dumb. You and your -entertainment can go plumb——” - -“Well, now that it’s all settled I feel better, Ike. You corral Dirty -and Half Mile and bring ’em over to the Mint Hall tonight, and you’ll -find out what you’ve got to do.” - -“Magpie Simpkins, for gosh sake——” - -“Ike, I’d tell yuh if I knowed, but I don’t. Old Testament knows just -what you’ve got to do, so be patient.” - -I finds Dirty Shirt in Buck’s place, and he’s inoculated against -rattlesnakes. Dirty is bow-legged and cock-eyed, and wouldn’t be no -beauty if he wasn’t. I tells him what has come to pass, and he listens -close-like. Then he steps inside, yanks out his six-gun, and rings the -little bell on top of the Mint Hall three times in a row. Then he puts -his gun back and cocks his eye at me. - -“I ain’t drunk, that’s a cinch. Mebbe my hearin’ is weak, Ike. Say -that all over again, will yuh?” - -I explains once more. Dirty nods foolish-like. - -“Sounded the same both times, Ike. What does a wise man have to do?” - -“I don’t know, Dirty. We’ll find Half Mile and then they’ll explain it -to us.” - -“Half Mile’s in jail. He shot three times at ‘Scenery’ Sims, and -Scenery put him in jail for it. Here comes Scenery now.” - - * * * * * - -There ain’t no description to fit Scenery, except that he’s about five -feet tall and his voice squeaks and his mustache only grows at the -corners of his big mouth, like the whiskers on a bobcat. He continues -to be our sheriff, because nobody has took the time to kill him, -except some poor shot, like Half Mile. - -We explains the proposition to Scenery, and asks him will he let Half -Mile be a wise man. - -“How about me?” asks Scenery. “Half Mile ain’t got no sense. I studied -ellie-cu-shun oncet, and I’ve got a lot of natural sense about things -like that.” - -“We don’t give a ——,” says Dirty Shirt, “only we wants to die in good -company, Scenery.” - -“Bein’ the sheriff I’ll see that they don’t get rough.” - -“Since when has a sheriff been able to intimidate these Yaller Rock -snake hunters?” I asks. “The sight of you up there, Scenery, would be -like wavin’ a red rag at a bull.” - -“Nawsir,” squeaks Scenery. “And besides they ain’t goin’ to be allowed -to bring in no guns, so the judge tells me.” - -You can’t argue with no tin whistle like that, so we takes him with us -to our cabin, where we finds Magpie, Old Testament and the judge. We -explains that Half Mile is in jail and that Scenery is desirous to be -wise. Magpie says: - -“That’s all right, if he keeps his mouth shut, but we don’t want no -wise man with a squeaky voice. We’ll let Ike speak all the words what -is spoke.” - -“I can talk,” says Dirty Shirt, “and I’ve studied ellie-cu-shun. I can -make gestures, y’betcha.” - -“We ain’t usin’ none in this ta-blew, Dirty,” states the judge. - -“She’s to be pulled off almost in the dark, bein’ as she’s a night -pitcher, and gestures ain’t goin’ to do nothin’ but mebbe ruin the -thing. You hang onto your gestures and let nature take her course.” - -“Talk ain’t much without yuh gestures,” complains Dirty. - -“Your talk wouldn’t be much with ’em!” snaps Magpie. “Shut up.” - -“If you knowed anythin’ about ellie-cu-shun, you’d ——” - -“If you’re goin’ to be a wise man, Scenery,” says Magpie, soft-like, -“you’ll practise up right now by keepin’ your —— mouth shut. _Sabe?_ -Go ahead and gesture if yuh want to, but keep still.” - -“Well, if I can’t talk, I won’t, but jist the same—” - -“Stop!” howls Magpie. “Scenery, if you don’t shut up you’ll never live -to run for office again.” - -“I ain’t goin’ to run again,” says Scenery. “I wouldn’t have the job -again.” - -“Judge,” says Magpie, “we’ll let a certain few bring their guns inside -the hall. Now, let’s get down to business. Is Pete Gonyer makin’ the -star?” - -“Moon. He had a round piece of glass, but he says there ain’t no -danged way he can cut a star. Moon will do as well, won’t it?” - -“If we can’t get a star; but the Bible says they followed a star.” - -“Yaller Rock county won’t never know that,” says Dirty. “Not if yuh -don’t tell em.” - -“We’re having the stage built twice as big, and then we’ll put dirt -over the boards so it will look like a desert. We’ll have a curtain -built along two sides and the back, and we’ve got to have them stairs -braced up a little before we can bring Maud S up into the hall.” - -“Is Maud S comin’ to the show?” asks Dirty. - -“She’s the ca-mel,” explains Magpie. “Goin’ to fix up some humps on -her back and yuh never could tell her from a ca-mel. _Sabe?_” - -“Suppose she brays?” says Scenery. - -“Suppose she gestures?” says Dirty. “My ——, but a mule can gesture.” - -“Maud S ain’t got a kick left in her old carcass,” grins Magpie. - -Just then Muley Bowles and Chuck Warner shows up, and joins us. - -“Hear you’re goin’ to celebrate Christmas,” says Chuck, wiggling his -ears. - -“Want the Cross J quartet to sing?” - -“Nope,” says Magpie. “This is goin’ to be a sanitary proceedin’, and -there ain’t goin’ to be nothin’ done that might incite violence. We’re -just as much obliged as though you burned your shirt, Chuck.” - -“We’d sure be willing to help your ceremony,” says Muley. “We’d sing -free gratis for nothin’, without chargin’ you a cent.” - -“Nope. I ain’t got nothin’ against you your punchers—not as individual -human beings, but——” - -“I gets your meanin’, Magpie,” says Chuck. “The Cross J ain’t good -enough for your danged old half-baked celebration, eh? Our harmonious -voices don’t fit into your blasted old program-me. We has suffered and -bled that Piperock might make a success of their unusual doings, but -from now on we don’t do a danged thing to help yuh out. Your tone of -voice is a insult to four of the best singers in Yaller Rock county.” - -“I’m glad you understand what I meant,” says Magpie, mean-like. Muley -and Chuck turns around and beats it for town. - -“I reckon you know best, Magpie, but them four Cross J go-devils might -do us wrong. Yuh might ’a’ let ’em sing one song,” opines Testament. - -“Let’s get back to the ca-mel,” suggests Magpie. - -“Let’s get away from Maud S,” says Dirty Shirt. - -Then cometh Tellurium Woods, the danged old bald-headed bunch of wind. -He’s got a grin on his face. - - * * * * * - -“I got a idea,” says he. “I’ll be Sandy Claws.” - -“Where did yuh get it?” asks Magpie. “This is a Sandy Claw-less -Christmas.” - -“Aw-w-w, yuh can’t do that,” wails Tellurium. “Whatcha tryin’ to -do—put the celebration on the bum? Here’s the idea: I’ll dress up like -Sandy Claws, and when everybody is there and the program is about over -we’ll have Wick at the door. _Sabe?_ Somebody will give him messages -from Sandy Claws. Each message will show that he’s that much closer. -Everybody gets excited, don’t yuh see, and at the right time I comes -in. Fine, eh?” - -“I seconds the motion,” says the judge, “I remember when I was a -kid——” - -“I thirds it,” states Testament. “She’s a pious method, Tellurium. -Beats having Sandy come down the chimbley.” - -“Well,” says Magpie, weary-like, “go ahead and do what yuh like, but I -want this tab-lew to be just like I sees it. Testament, will yuh look -up something for the wise men to say, and how we wants ’em to dress?” - -“Yea, verily I will, Magpie.” - -“I can make me some whiskers out of a horse’s tail,” says Tellurium. - -“I hope the horse sees yuh takin’ them,” says Magpie. - -Then the meeting broke up, and we adjourned to Buck’s place. - -Scenery is tickled stiff to think he’s goin’ to be a actor, but I -ain’t cheering—yet. Me and Dirty Shirt are veterans in this acting -game, and we knows it takes nerve, speed and a strong constitution. - -The old Romans and their wild animal arena never had nothing of -Piperock. She’s a place where milk comes in tin cans, and the only -honey is what the sand-hornets puts up for their own use. Her motto -is: - -“Hurrah for ——! Who’s afraid of a little fire?” - -In Buck’s place we finds Muley and Chuck, and pretty soon Telescope -Tolliver and Henry Peck comes in, which makes the Cross J quartet -complete. - -“They won’t let us sing, Telescope,” says Muley, sad-like. - -“They won’t?” says Telescope, surprized. “Won’t let us sing?” - -“Not a note. Not only that but they insults us a heap.” - -“Well,” says Henry Peck. “Well, the nerve of the pelicans.” - -“Don’t blame us,” says Dirty Shirt. “We ain’t got a danged thing to do -with it—not even the disposition of our own re-mains after the -massacree is over.” - -“They won’t let us sing,” repeats Telescope. “Whatcha know about -that?” - -“Not even sing free,” admits Chuck, wiggling his ears real fast. “It -ain’t reasonable. Why, they won’t have no music a-tall. Bill -Thatcher’s orchestra ain’t comin’. Bill said it cost him a new bull -fiddle and a drum every time he played here, and he’s savin’ up to buy -a slip-horn.” - -“You ought to be glad,” says Dirty Shirt. “You sure ought to, boys.” - -“It’s a insult to harmony,” says Telescope. “We’ve almost got to the -point where we can sing ‘Tentin’ Tonight,’ with variations, and our -‘Sweet Marie’ sure does make the shivers run up your spine. ‘Jay Bird’ -Whittaker says it’s got anything beat he ever heard since he busted -the ear tubes of his talkin’ machine.” - -“What kind of a act does you perform, Dirty?” asks Hen Feck. - -“I portrays Wisdom,” says Dirty. “There’s three of us, Hennery, three -of a kind against a full house.” - -“Wisdom,” proclaims Muley, “Wisdom consists of more than three things, -Dirty. No three men can portray wisdom.” - -“We’re goin’ to give her a try, Muley. Me and Ike and Scenery.” - -“Wisdom—!” grunts Telescope. “You three?” - -“And Maud S,” adds Dirty, sad-like. - -“Oh,” says Chuck. “Oh, yeah. Well, mebbe you’ll get away with it.” - -According to all we can find out, Christmas is the time of peace on -earth and plenty of good-will to everybody. She’s a time when the lion -and the lamb lies down together, and the cowpuncher forgets that there -is such a thing as a sheep-herder. It’s a time when men’s hearts are -filled with love toward their fellermen, and a six-shooter is only a -ornament; a time, when you can say, “Yoo-hoo” to a horse-thief, -without expecting to grab a harp the next minute. - -“Yea, verily,” as Testament says. “It is a time when grown men become -like little children. Yeah, that’s a fact—mentally. Piperock ain’t got -any too much sense when she’s acting growed up; but right now—huh!” - - * * * * * - -There ain’t no reason why a lot of disreputable snake-hunters can’t -spend their Christmas in Paradise or Curlew; but they don’t. Nope. -They clutters up Piperock to partake of our good cheer. Me and Dirty -looks over that aggregation of incompetents, and the sight drives all -wisdom, peace and good will from our hearts. - -“Big Foot” Forrest, “Cactus” Collins, “Mex” Mason, “Pole-Cat” Perkins, -“Haw” Harris, et cettery, running the gamut of undesirable -horse-thieves. “Hassayampa” Harris, who is a uncle of “Haw,” brings -his bunch of hard-boiled punchers over from Curlew, and Mike Pelly -heads the aggregation of incompetents from Paradise. - -The Seven A, Triangle, Five Dot, Circle C and the Cross J all cometh -to hive up in Piperock and partake of the Christmas cheer, and -everything else that might come to pass. They’ve got the Mint Hall -decorated for the occasion, and so forth. They built the stage out -until she’s about twenty feet square, and about five feet high. - -A couple of horse-thieves, who studied art in the penitentiary, -painted the scenery. It’s canvas hung at the back of the stage, and -they painted it black and put on a lot of white stars. Sticking in the -middle of the canvas is kind of a lantern rigging, with a round glass -in it and a lamp inside. - -“That’s the moon,” explains Magpie. “When this is pulled off that will -be the only visible light. _Sabe?_ Desert, yuh understand? We’re goin’ -to put some rocks and a bunch of cactus on the stage.” - -“What do we do?” squeaks Scenery. - -“You will be asleep,” explains Testament. “The lamp will be turned low -and have a cover over it. Everything will be still. I’ll have somebody -behind the curtain to take off the cover of the moon, and slowly turn -up the lamp. One of you wise men wakes up and sees the dim light. You -wakes up the rest of the bunch, and you all stands up, looking at the -light. - -“Then you—Magpie. I reckon we better have the mule layin’ down, hadn’t -we? Well, you wakes up the mule, and then you all starts walking -slow-like toward the back of the stage, and then we drops the curtain. -That’s all there is to it.” - -“We’ll have to throw that mule,” opines Wick. “Better hawg-tie it, -too, and let somebody cut the ropes when they’re ready to go. The -humps are all ready to be cinched on.” - -“What do we wear?” I asks. - -“My wife is makin’ the costumes out of gunny-sacks,” says Wick. - -“We’ve got to have something what looks like presents,” opines -Testament. “I’ve got a picture, which shows a lot of vases and stuff -like that.” - -“My wife’s got some stuff that will be just the cheese,” says Wick. -“We’ll use some of her chiny vases.” - -“What do we have to say?” asks Scenery. - -“Ike will do the sayin’,” says Magpie. “He’ll be the one what wakes up -first and he will say—uh—what was it, Testament?” - -“Lo, there shineth a bright light. Let’s go to it.” - -“My——!” gasps Dirty Shirt, pious-like. “But save the wimmin and -children first.” - -“It’s sure goin’ to be a wonderful thing, and will teach a moral,” -says Testament. - -“Yes,” says I. “And the moral is: Let well enough alone.” - -“I’d ought to say them words,” squeaks Scenery. “I think a thing like -that needs appropriate gestures, and I’ve studied——” - -“Might be better,” says Wick. “Gestures helps a lot. Remember Willyum -Jennins Bryan, when he was preachin’ fer silver. If Scenery would sort -of loosen up his vocal cords a little——” - -“Let him say ’em,” says I. “I’d hate to pass out with them words on my -lips. Scenery, you’re elected.” - -“All right,” squeaks Scenery. “I’ll study up my ellie-cushun a little. -Feller gets kinda rusty, you know it.” - -“Yeah,” admits Magpie, “and kinda squeaks. You don’t need study—you -need some kerosene and then a application of axle-grease, Scenery.” - -The next morning we took Maud S up the steps into the hall, and I’m -here to say that Maud S made life miserable for us. A mule is hard to -argue with on the level, but try getting one half-way up a stairs and -have it stop to think. We took Maud S in sitting down, bucked her onto -the stage, where she lays down and refuses to get up. - -“Fine!” says Wick. We “won’t have to hawg-tie her.” - -“Stage fright,” opines Magpie. - -“Safety first,” says I. “Animals have instincts, and hers is to get -below the line of fire.” - -Me and Dirty meets the Cross J quartet, and they’re getting cheerful. - -“No,” says Muley, “we ain’t goin’ to no celebrashun. They have done us -dirt and we sickens to our soul at their per-fid-i-tee.” - -“Sheveral per-fid-i-tees,” nods Telescope. “Group aroun’ me while we -shing a shong of gladness over the merry Chris’mas time. All together -now: - - “Oh, the coyote said, I’m better than a puncher, - With a gun that goes blam, blam! - He may die and go up to heaven, - But his skin ain’t worth a ——” - -“You sure does get into the Christmas spirit,” opines Dirty. “That’s -one of the sweetest things I ever heard.” - - * * * * * - -Then I calls Dirty outside, and I says to him, like this: - -“Dirty, me and you have got to stay sober. A drunk ain’t goin’ to have -no chance a-tall in there if anything goes wrong. If we hangs around -with them celebratin’ shorthorns we won’t be in no shape to get up and -foller that star. We’ll be just like Maud S, which can’t or won’t get -up.” - -“That’s right, Ike. We’ll get a couple of quarts for ourselves and -keep away from them hard drinkers. Don’t yuh reckon Maud S will get up -at the right time?” - -“She’s plumb rooted, Dirty.” - -“Uh-huh. I know how to do it, Ike. Come on.” - -Dirty went over to Wick’s store, and later on I meets him; and we goes -up to my cabin. - -We’ve got them two quarts of hooch, so we has quite a little time of -our own, waiting until the afternoon gets to the sere and yaller leaf. -I wakes up and finds Dirty with flour all over his clothes, but he -won’t tell what he’s trying to do. - -Magpie hunts us up and acts peevish toward us. - -“Gosh a’mighty,” he complains. “Ain’t yuh got no sense? We’re tryin’ -to re-hearse and you fellers hide out down here. Come on.” - -We just gets to the door, when we meets Muley Bowles. - -“F’r th’ lasht time—do we shing?” asks Muley. - -“You do not!” declares Magpie. “I thought you knowed that, Muley.” - -“May you resht in peash,” says Muley. “May your anchestors rise up and -mock you for bein’ a —— fool. Autographically schpeakin’: - - “May your hair wear out - And your nose break off - And your teeth shake loose - From whoopin’ cough. - -“Thish is the best wishes of your friend Muley Bowels, E-squire, -December twenty-fourth.” - -“Tha’s good,” says Dirty. “That’s fine. Roshes are blue, vi’lets are -pink—uh—no, that ain’t it. Vi’lets are red and roshes are blue—Haw! -Haw! Haw! No knife can cut our love up. Haw! Haw! Haw!” - -“Why don’t you say something, Ike?” asks Magpie. “You’re just as drunk -as they are.” - -“Yeah, but I’m mean drunk, Magpie. There ain’t nothin’ flowery about -me. I ain’t in no mood to wish whoopin’ cough nor violets on mine -enemies. Let’s go.” - -“Sufferin’ sun-fish!” grunts Magpie. “Look at Rip Van Winkle.” - -“It’s me—Tellurium,” says the apparition. “Don’t I look it?” - -He sure did. He’s got a old bear-skin overcoat on, and about three -strings of sleigh-bells around his waist. He’s got a stove-pipe hat on -his head and on his chin is a bunch of whiskers made from the tail of -a white horse. Personally, I think he’s the dangest-looking thing I -ever saw. - -“Well,” says Magpie, “you sure look it, Tellurium, but I’m danged if I -know what you do look like.” - -“Sandy Claws,” says Tellurium, proud-like. “I’m him. Come up to show -you what can be done when you’ve got the ambition.” - -“Sandy Claws?” says Magpie. “No, no Tellurium. Sandy Claws don’t look -like that. What do yuh want to do—scare folks? You look like a cross -between a item of natural hist’ry and a smallpox germ.” - -“I comes into the program as a sort of special thing,” says Tellurium. - -“No,” says Magpie, “not into my program, Tellurium. You better go out -and scare coyotes with that outfit. I ain’t using no Sandy Clawses -anyway.” - -“I’ve went to a lot of trouble,” complains Tellurium. - -“So’ve we,” says Muley. “He won’t let us shing, and now he don’t want -no Sandy Clawses.” - -“I’d make a good one, too,” says Tellurium. - -“Yeah, you would—not,” says Magpie. “I’d just as soon see a wild bull -come in there dressed like that, Tellurium. You’d ruin the show, you -know it.” - -“Let’s not talk to him,” says Muley. “He has no soul, Tellurium. - -“He won’t let us shing. Nossir. No Sandy Claws, no shongs—where’s your -ol’ Christmas?” - -“Come on, Ike,” says Magpie. “Let ’em wail. I’m goin’ to pull off one -show that Piperock can be proud of, yuh bet your life.” - - * * * * * - -We went up to Mint Hall. Mrs. Smith and Matilda Mudgett are there, -sort of strutting around like a pair of fool-hens. Ricky Henderson, -Wick Smith and Frenchy Deschamps are there, fixing their orchestra -seats. Wick’s new drum is there, and he’s some proud of it. - -“Mr. Harper,” says Matilda, “have you ever heard ‘Spring, Lovely -Spring’?” - -“Not since last April,” says I. - -“We are going to render it tonight,” says she. - -“We?” - -“Me and Mrs. Smith. She has a lovely alto.” - -I goes over and talks to Ricky. - -“Ricky, you knows something about music—what is a alto?” - -Ricky thinks deep for a while, and then he says: - -“Ike, did yuh ever let out a whoop, and then hear the same whoop come -back to yuh? That’s it?” - -“I thought that was a echo.” - -“Yeah, sure; but that’s only when yuh hear one reply. Sabe? When yuh -hears two replies—that’s alto. It’s a Hungarian word, which means -two.” - -“What does it mean when you hears more than two?” - -“That’s basso profundo, Ike.” - -“I thinks Maud S is paralyzed,” complains Wick. “She don’t seem to -have no use of her legs.” - -“For this we offer much thanks,” says Dirty. - -“But she’s got to get up and go with yuh,” says Wick. “You can’t leave -her layin’ there on the stage.” - -“She’ll get up,” declares Dirty. “I know a lot about mules. Lemme -alone and don’t worry about Maud S.” - -“There ain’t much use of rehearsin’,” squeaks Scenery; “I’m the main -thing up there, and I’ve studied my gestures a-plenty, and I know the -words fine.” - -“We’ve got to put the humps on Maud S,” says Wick. “We can hang some -stuff over the humps, so nobody will know she ain’t a cam-el. You know -how they does in a circus, Magpie?” - -Me and Dirty, not wishful to get the least hazy, decides to buy us -some more bottle cheer, instead of carousing around with the common -herd, and we communes with each other in my cabin, until the shades of -night have come down upon us. Then we finds our way back to the hall. -We’ve got a full audience—in more ways than one. Doughgod Smith has -been appointed door-keeper and he annexes our guns as we goes in. - -“Yuh can’t take your guns in with yuh,” he states. “Them is orders.” - -He’s got a lot of belts and holsters, but few guns hanging on a hook. -Dirty looks ’em over and picks out a good-looking gun, which he shoves -down inside his waistband. - -“Them orders don’t say yuh can’t pack a strange gun, do they?” - -“Not my orders,” says Doughgod. “They tell me not to let any man in -with his gun, that’s all. You ain’t settin’ no precedent, Dirty. I -reckon every man in the hall is packin’ a strange gun, but there’s one -satisfaction—they can’t shoot more than six time per each, ’cause I’ve -got all their extra ammunition.” - -I picks out an old decrepid .44, and goes inside the hall. I looks -over that congregation and I can’t see where Doughgod had any reasons -for being cheerful. There’s at least a hundred men in there, which -means six hundred shots, which is usually plenty and sufficient. - -The reward notices are sure well represented, and you could just about -lynch the whole bunch and not make any mistake. - -We finds the acting talent behind the curtain. Scenery is all dressed -up in a gunny-sack gown, with a ribbon tied around his head and no -boots on. He’s making gestures like a prize-fighter. - -“My ——!” gasps Dirty. “Would yuh look at that?” Scenery jerks one fist -outward and upward, swings the other arm behind him, like he was -guarding his rear, and then squeaks: - -“Lo, there shineth a bright light. Let’s go to it.” - -“Mark an X after Scenery Sims,” says Dirty. “He won’t last.” - -We goes over where Wick is looking at Maud S. She’s still laying down -and don’t act like she’s ever get up again. - -“’Fraid she’s on her last legs,” says Wick. “Yessir, I reckon we’re -goin’ to lose Maudie.” - -“’Fraid?” snorts Mrs. Smith. “That de-eared hay-hound? Let her die.” - -“Not until she’s been a ca-mel, maw,” says Wick, and then he goes out -to set down beside his new drum. - -Dirty sets down beside Maud S and takes her head in his lap. - -“Ain’t the Cross J quartet going to sing?” asks Matilda. - -Old Testament shakes his head. - -“Nope. They got mad—them and Tellurium. They all went home.” - -“Tweet, tweet, tweet,” goes the flute. - -“Bum! Bum! Bum!” goes the drum. - -“Whar-r-r-oo-o-o-o-o-m-m-m-m,” goes the jew’s-harp. - -“The orchestra is tunin’ up,” observes Dirty. “We ain’t got long to -live, Ike.” - - * * * * * - -Then old Judge Steele steps out through the curtain, and the hum of -conversation dies down. - -“Feller citizens and ladies,” says the judge, “the first thing on the -program is a du-it. Miss Mudgett is going to sing ‘Spring, Lovely -Spring,’ with the kind assistance of Mrs. Smith. This here is a -soup-ranner and alter du-it. We asks yuh to bear with the orchestra to -the limit of your patience, as this is their first appearance -together.” - -“Who?” asks Big Foot Forrest. - -“All of ’em. They’re acquainted, but that’s about all you can say for -’em. All right, Wick—let her go.” - -“Tweet, tweet, tweet! Bum, bum, bum, bum! Whar-r-r-oo-o-o-m-m-m-m!” - -Mrs. Smith and Matilda goes out through the curtain. Somebody laughs -out loud and then comes a thud. - -“All right—go ahead,” says Hair Oil Heppner’s voice. “Big Foot thought -he saw somethin’ funny, but he’s forgot what it was.” - -The song starts and this is how she sounds: - -“Tweet, bum, Spree-e-e-hing, lovely spree-e-e-hing, tweet, tweet, bum, -whar-r-r-oo-o-m, Spree-e-hing, Spree-e-e-hing, bum, bum, kerong-g-g-g, -tweet, tweet. - -“You cree-e-e-heep o’er me-e-e-adhows be-e-e-e-right, -whar-r-r-room-m-m, bum, bum, tweet, tweet, o’er me-e-e-adhows -be-e-e-right, bum, bum, bum, tweet, tweedle, wharoom, whar-r-r-oom——” - -“Whoa, Blaze!” - -I whirls just in time to see Magpie get kicked behind the knees by -Maud S, who is laying down. She must ’a’ just sort of cramped herself -and then let fly with both hoofs. - -Magpie turns plumb over and goes out through the curtain and right -into Mrs. Smith, who is straining over “be-e-e-right;” and when they -hit the platform she’s on top. - -“From Spring to Fall!” yelps Mex Mason. - -Mrs. Smith gets off poor Magpie, and lets out a wail: - -“O-o-o-o-o-o-oh! Every time I try to do something, some hammer-head -comes bustin’ along and spoils it!” - -“Did you hit her on purpose?” demands Wick, standing up. - -“Your —— mule—” begins Magpie, foolish-like. - -“You done it on purpose!” howls Mrs. Smith. - -Wick believed her, I reckon, cause he throwed his drum stick right at -poor Magpie. It was a good shot. It came right through the hole in the -curtain and it hit Judge Steele on the bridge of his nose. The old boy -sort of got dignified acting. - -“Wonderful,” says Dirty. “Wonderful cons’tution.” - -The judge just walks around the stage, making gestures and working his -lips, but there ain’t no words. Pretty soon he stops, seems to listen, -and then he says, soft-like: “Guilty? Why, gentlemen, that man is as -innocent as a new-born baby.” - -“Knocked back seven years,” says Dirty, awed-like. “That’s what he -said the time he was my lawyer, and that was seven years ago.” - -The crowd out in front are talking loud, and I know danged well that -there’s going to be trouble if we don’t keep going. Mrs. Smith comes -waddling in, follered by Matilda and Magpie. - -Mrs. Smith is sore as a boil. - -“I will not sing another note,” she declares. “Every time I start to -do anything in public——” - -“Maud S is getting restless,” states Scenery. “We better pull off our -act.” - -“Can yuh get her up at the right time, Dirty?” asks Magpie. - -“Get things set, and I’ll do my dangest.” - -Then they cleared everybody away, while we got ready. Me and Dirty and -Scenery are all dressed in them gunny-sack gowns, and have got our -boots off. - -They’ve got a big bunch of cactus and a lot of rocks, which they puts -around to make it look like a desert. Pete Gonyer is behind the back -curtain, ready to take the cover off the moon, and then turn up the -lamp. Maud S is making funny noises in her throat, but Dirty is -setting on her head. - -“What’s the matter with her?” I asks. - -“Speed-crazy,” grins Dirty. - -“Get ready,” says Magpie. “Now, for gosh sakes, make this look real.” - -They blew out all the lights except one in the back of the room, and -then pulled the curtain. - -“What does she represent—a load of dirt?” asks Pole-Cat Perkins. - -“That’s a —— of a thing to ride thirty miles to see,” opines “Windy” -Wilkins. - -“Where is the moon?” squeaks Scenery, in a whisper. “Pete, where in —— -are yuh?” - -“Aw, ——!” groans Pete. “Magpie, did yuh turn out this lamp?” - -“It was lit when I left there!” snaps Magpie. “You must ’a’ blowed on -it.” - -“I never blowed on nothin’!” - -“Haw! Haw! Haw!” roars Art Miller. “This is one funny game. Like a -minstrel show. Pete, ask him why he thinks yuh blowed on it.” - - * * * * * - -Comes a little bit of light, and I feels Scenery climb to his feet. -There he stands in the gloom, pointing up and down and sidewise, and -then he squeaks: - -“Lo, there bringth a slight—uh—slineth a bite—I mean—a—a—lineth -a—let’s go to it—uh—to it.” - -“Haw! Haw! Haw!” howls somebody. “Pete Gonyer’s lightin’ the moon!” - -I turns and takes a look. There is Pete at the back of the stage. He’s -got the cover off the moon, and is trying to get the old lamp to -light. - -“Dang it!” he howls. “I’ve turned the wick plumb into the bottom!” - -“Whoa, Maud!” howls Dirty. “Help me hold her, Ike!” - -I turns, and there is Maud S standing on her hind legs, and, as I -look, them humps, which wasn’t well cinched, being as she was laying -down at the time, swing down and just about fill up all the space -between her front and hind legs. - -“Ho-hold her!” wails Dirty; but Maud S thinks she’s a circus animal. - -Hold her? Man, that mule, after all these years, found out that she -had authority to go to some place. She waltzes around a couple of -times, busts a hole in the stage and falls over backwards into the -orchestra. - -Wick Smith falls over backwards, pulling his new drum over with him, -thereby saving his part of the orchestra. - -“Whoo-o-o-ee! Pow-w-w-w-der Ri-i-ver!” yowls a puncher, and a circle -of chairs lands around Maud S, trying to block her, but Maud S ain’t -to be stopped. - -She bucked plumb over the top of Wick Smith, and that drum rattled -against her heels. - -Zowie! She telescoped and lifted that drum with both hind feet. Dirty -Shirt was just going to jump off the stage to attack her from the -rear, and that drum caught him in midair. Dirty comes plumb back onto -the stage and lands setting down in that bed of cactus. The drum hit -me in the knees, and I went plumb over the top of it and dug my chin -into the desert. - -When I got my senses again I sees that about seven punchers have hold -of Maud S, and are trying to hold her. - -“Lights!” yelps Wick. “Light some lamps. My ——, my drum is busted!” - -“—— your old drum!” howls Dirty Shirt, standing on the stage, trying -to lift the seat of his pants loose from himself. - -“O-o-o-o-oh, the tab-lew is ruined!” wails Mrs. Smith. - -Everybody helped light the lamps, and then we stands and looks at each -other. Maud S looks like her course was about run, but them punchers -don’t take any chances. - -“Sandy Claws has come!” yells a voice at the door, and we all takes a -look. I never seen anything like that apparition. It’s a two-year old -steer, wearing a bear-skin overcoat, with a string of sleigh-bells -around it, and on the lower lip of the danged animal is Tellurium -Wood’s false whiskers, and over one horn is that tall hat. The steer -is about half way into the hall when we see it coming, and its tail is -twisted over its back. Around its mouth is twisted a rope, which is -yanked off as it humps into the door. - -“Ba-a-a-rr!” blats that steer, like it hurt all over, and right up -that room it comes, romping regardless of life or limb. - -I know it was Chuck’s voice that yelled— - -“Sandy Claws has come.” - -“Ho-o-old fast!” yells a puncher, and just then the steer lams into -poor Maud S, scattering the punchers. Hair Oil Heppner tries to -bulldog that locoed animal, but he might as well ’a’ tried to bulldog -a box-car. - -Then Maud S gets enervated again, and things begin to boil a-plenty. - -“Ba-a-a-a-w!” bawls the steer. - -“Ha-a-a-a-w!” sings Maud, and the both of them starts gamboling toward -the stage. - -“Git ba-a-a-ck!” yowls Pete Gonyer. “Daw-w-w-gone yuh, git back!” - -Rip-i-i-p! The steer gets its horns into the curtain, rips about -twenty feet of it loose, and starts to climb the stage. - -Crash! The moon went down, and the danged old oil lamp inside -exploded. - -“Fire! Fire!” howls Judge Steele, and then he picks up that blazing -moon and whales away at the steer with it. - -Clank! The judge was left-handed, which might account for the poor -throwing, but he got his feet tangled in some of that loose curtain -and hit Scenery Sims right in the head with that heavy moon. - -Bang! Somebody took a shot at the steer and knocked several bells, and -one of them danged bells hit me in the nose. I hate to get hit in the -nose with a bell. I hates to get hit in the nose with anything, but I -sure does detest a bell. I can see folks going out of the door as fast -as they can travel. I seen Hair Oil climbing onto poor Maud S, and -then my time is all taken up with that danged steer. - -All this stuff is taking place a lot faster than I can tell it. I -bulldogged that steer. It was the first steer I ever tried to bulldog, -and if all future steers will keep away from me it will be the last. - - * * * * * - -I hooked onto his horns just in time to feel my feet dangle off the -edge of the stage, the same of which helped my act quite a lot. The -steer upends from my weight, and me and that steer landed into a -jumble of chairs, and over the top of us goes Maud S, celebrating her -second childhood by making Hair Oil pull leather. - -The few remaining folks in the hall sort of celebrates by taking some -shots at the lights, the same of which makes our immediate future -kinda gloomy. - -“Lo, I see a bright light!” squeals Scenery’s voice. - -“Sus-sunfish, you crop-eared coyote!” yells Hair Oil, and then comes a -crash of glass. - -“My ——!” yells Magpie. “She throwed Hair Oil out of the window! Where -are you, Ike?” - -“Keep away!” I yells. “I’m paralyzed all the way down from my upper -lip and I don’t know whether me or the steer is on top.” - -“Paralyzed —— ——!” howls Dirty. “Wish I was. Who in —— got the idea of -puttin’ cactus on the stage?” - -“Look out for that mule!” yelps Magpie, and I looks up at the dim -figure of that locoed mule, almost over me. I yanks away from my steer -and the steer yanks right with me. Under ordinary conditions I’d ’a’ -been able to get away, but I’ve got one leg through a string of them -sleigh-bells, and when that steer starts for the door, Ike Harper -E-squire went right along—on the back of his neck. - -I hooked a lot of chairs on my way, kinda trying to impede the hoofs -of progress, but that scared steer made funny little noises and keeps -going. There’s a lantern hung at the head of the stairs, and I reckon -the steer was hunting for light. - -Just before we hits the top of the stairs I hears a strain of quartet -music: - -“Tentin’ to-o-o-o-night, tentin’ to-o-o——” - -Crash! - -We hit the doorway with our assortment of furniture, and the next -thing I know I’m amid more feller mortals and we’re all traveling the -downward path. I sees some red, white and blue lights, and I’m loose. -I reckon the bell strap busted. I gets to my feet, dodging stars and -other aerial impediments, when the stairs almost shakes out from under -me, and I gets a glimpse of Maud S falling downstairs. - -Folks, I jumped—but too late. Me and Maud S landed at the bottom -together. I grabs the mule with both hands, and I feels her get up -with me hanging to some part of her anatomy. It’s about twenty feet -from the bottom of the stairs to the door, and I rode some part of -that crop-eared mule as far as the exit, where the top of the door -slapped me in the face and I went into the land of Once Upon a Time. - -I’m just about to live happy ever afterwards, when something seems to -wake me up. I feels a dragging sensation, along with other painful -things, and then I dimly hears Dirty Shirt say— - -“You’ve gotta help me, Muley.” - -“I’ve gotta have a little help myself,” wails Muley. “I tell yuh that -danged steer knocked me down and then the mule fell over me.” - -“But poor old Ike is de-e-e-ad!” sobs Dirty. - -“He’ll keep,” croaks Muley; “but I’ll spoil if I don’t have help.” - -“Yuh gotta help me drag him home, Muley. You was to blame for his -de-mise.” - -“Naw, I wasn’t, Dirty. Chuck got the idea of dressin’ up that steer in -Tellurium’s clothes. Tellurium was sore, too. We twisted a wire around -the steer’s tail to make it bawl when the gag was pulled off. - -“We just wanted to make it blat at Magpie. Nossir, yuh can’t blame us -for it, ’cause that mule would ’a’ killed him anyway. I’d like to know -what in —— woke up that gone-to-seed mule.” - -“There ain’t nobody to hear,” says Dirty, “so I’ll tell yuh. I took a -can of red pepper and a can of ginger and mixed ’em. Then I made a gob -of dough in Dee’s shack and put the hot stuff in the middle. _Sabe?_ -Maud S. swallered it. That’s all.” - -“They’d kill us if they knew,” groans Dirty. - -“Death’s stinger wouldn’t hurt me,” groans Muley. - -I crawls to my feet, and they don’t see me until I’m standing up -beside ’em. - -“You—you—uh—” stammers Dirty. “You won’t tell, w-will yuh, Ike?” - -“Ain’t you dead—yet?” gasps Muley. - -“Enough,” says I, “enough to foller out the old saying—dead men tell -no tales. I’ve got eyesight enough left to see the lights of Buck’s -place.” - -“L-let’s go tut-to it,” stammers Dirty. - -Which shows that Piperock never started anything that they couldn’t -finish—after a fashion. - -*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK WISE MEN AND A MULE *** - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the -United States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part -of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm -concept and trademark. 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