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"It's shore wicked the way you curse, Old Tily, as Wallie ca an e the other for broken bones "I could hear you talkin' to Rastus from whur I'm settin'"

Wallie exhibited a row of bruised knuckles and replied fiercely: "If ever I had an immortal soul I've lost it since that calf ca on the other, the cow kicked the pail over"

"Quirl you a brownie and blow it threw your hackaly, as he handed hiarette papers, with a sack of tobacco and made room for hiht is better"

Wallie took the offering but re it dextrously as he looked off at his eighty acres of spring wheat showing eht of a July sunset

Pinkey eyed him critically--the tufts of hair which stood out like brushes through the cracks in what had once been a fine Pana boots with heels so run over that he walked on the side of theaze in a kind of holy ecstasy at his wheat-field until Pinkey ejaculated: "My, but you've changed horrible!"

"How, changed?" Wallie asked, absently

"You're so danged dirty! I should think you'd have to sand that shirt before you could hold it to git into it"

"I hardly ever take it off," said Wallie "I've been so busy I haven't had time to think how I looked, but I hope now to have more leisure Pinkey," impressively, "I believe my troubles are about over"

"Don't you think it!" replied Pinkey, bluntly "A dry-farmer kin have six months of hard luck three times a year for four and five years, hand-runnin' In fact, they ain't no lis that kin happen to a dry-farmer"

"But what could happen now?" Wallie asked, startled

"It's too clost to bed-time fer me to start in tellin' you," said Pinkey, drily

"You're too pessi to the instructions in the Farot the finest stand of wheat around here--even Boise Bill said so when he rode by yesterday"

"Rave on!" Pinkey looked at hily "It's pitiful to hear you You read them bulletins awhile and you won't know nothin' I seen a feller plant soresss used to stand and squeal in front of 'elad you're feelin' so lucky; I'm scairt of the feelin' it a jolt for it"