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Vachell, Horace Annesley, 1861-1955

"Bunch Grass A Chronicle of Life on a Cattle Ranch"


"I like your big brother," she said, in her hard, metallic tones; "he
is such a man: he has made quite a conquest of me; for mercy's sake
don't tell him so."
I pledged myself to profound secrecy, but walking home the remembrance
of an uncanny gleam in her bold black eye put to flight my misgivings.
I decided that Ajax was justified in using "pizon."
Upon Tuesday afternoon I deemed it expedient to remain at the ranch-
house. About five, Jasperson, arrayed in his best, accompanied Ajax to
the village. The lodge was to open its doors at 7.30; and at ten my
brother returned alone, breathless and red in the face, the bearer of
extraordinary tidings. I shall let him tell the story in his own
words.
"The whole village," said he, "has been painted by Jasperson a lovely
pigeon-blood red!" Then he sat down and laughed in the most
uncontrollable and exasperating manner.
"By Jupiter!" he gasped; "I knew that whisky was wonderful stuff, but
I never believed it could turn a worm into a Malay running amok." Then
he laughed again till the tears rolled down his cheeks.
Between the gusts and gurgles of laughter a few more details leaked
out.


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