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Stratton-Porter, Gene, 1863-1924

"At the Foot of the Rainbow"

Being a thousand miles closer
that pole than you are in Boston, naturally we come by that
distance closer to the great wool industry. Most of our wool here
grows on our tongues, and we shear it by this transmutin'
process, concerning which you have discoursed so beautiful. But
barrin' the shearin' of our wool, we are the mildest, most
sheepish fellows you could imagine. I don't reckon now there is a
man among us who could be induced to blat or to butt, under the
most tryin' circumstances. My Mary's got a little lamb, and all
the rist of the boys are lambs. But all the lambs are waned, and
clusterin' round the milk pail. Ain't that touchin'? Come on,
now, Ruben, ile up and edify us some more!"
"On what point do you seek enlightenment?" inquired the Thread
Man.
Jimmy stretched his long legs, and spat against the stove in pure
delight.
"Oh, you might loosen up on the work of a man," he suggested.
"These lambs of Casey's fold may larn things from you to help
thim in the striss of life. Now here's Jones, for instance, he's
holdin' togither a gang of sixty gibbering Atalyans; any wan of
thim would cut his throat and skip in the night for a dollar, but
he kapes the beast in thim under, and they're gettin' out gravel
for the bed of a railway.


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