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Vachell, Horace Annesley, 1861-1955

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

As I walked
towards the house, I heard Ajax following me, but he did not speak
till we had reached our comfortable sitting-room. Then, as gruffly as
I, he said, "Humpty Dumpty--after the fall!"
We lit our pipes in silence, sensible of an extraordinary depression
in the moral atmosphere. Five minutes before we had been much elated.
The spring round-up of cattle was over; we had sold our bunch of
steers at the top price; the money lay in our small safe; we had been
talking of a modest celebration as we rode home over the foothills.
Now, to use the metaphor of a cow county, we had been brought up with
a sharp turn! Our prosperity, measured by the ill-fortune of a fellow-
countryman, dwindled. Ajax summed up the situation: "He made me feel
cheap."
"Why?" I asked, conscious of a similar feeling. Ajax smoked and
reflected.
"It's like this," he answered presently. "That chap has been to the
bottom of the pit, but he bobs up with a smile. Did you notice his
smile?"
I rang the bell for Quong, our Chinese servant. When he came in I told
him to prepare a hot bath. Ajax whistled; but as Quong went away,
looking rather cross, my brother added, "Our clothes will fit him.


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