Bearly Reasonable
“Ike,” sez Magpie Simpkins, pointin’ down th’ trail, “th’ feller whatsaid, ‘Th’ worst is yet to come,’ must ’a’ meant that outfit comin’our way.”
I takes uh good look and agrees. In th’ lead is Ricky Henderson, onhis calico bronc, and behind him is three figgers on burrows. Th’leadin’ one looks like uh cross between uh Holy Roller proselyte anduh fence picket. Th’ legs of th’ critter is bent back at th’ knees tokeep its feet off th’ ground, an th’ rest of its body ’pears to havebeen soaked in starch before it seasoned.
It’s wearin’ uh swaller-tailed coat, buttoned at th’ top, makin’ itswell in th’ breeze like th’ wings of uh turkey-buzzard, and th’peaked, side-whiskered face which bobs at th’ top is crowned with uhhard hat. It is also wearin’ black-rimmed specs, and enough blackribbon floats from th’ top to furnish mournin’ fer uh wake.
Th’ next in line is uh fe-male person, and uh glance shows that sheain’t built fer neither speed nor comfort. Th’ pore li’l burrow she’sridin’ is wig-waggin’ uh distress signal with its ears, and threatensto cave in at th’ knees in uh short time.
Th’ next in line is one uh them human carbuncles. He’s so danged fatthat his clothes ache, and he has to lift his yaller eyebrows plumb toth’ top of his bald head to git his eyes open. When I first sees hisface I’m inclined to git th’ skin of uh aig to put on it and draw itto uh head.
Behind this caravan loiters five burros and they’re so danged loadeddown with plunder that all yuh can see is their ears. While me andMagpie stands on th’ steps of our cabin, at th’ Silver Threads mine,this aggregation peerades to uh standstill before us, and thatshe-packin’ burro hee-haws with relief.
“Here we are,” states Ricky, turnin’ in his saddle and grinnin’ at hisfollowers.
“Thank goodness!” snorts th’ fe-male. “I feel that I’m jolted to ashadow. Shall we dismount?”
“Ricky, yuh might make us used to yore friends, and tell us why youterminates th’ peerade at this point,” sez Magpie.
“This person,” sez Ricky, pointin’ at th’ lean critter, “is PerfessorPhinney. Th’ lady is his wife, and this here robust party is DoctorDoolittle. They’re from th’ East—” and then he turns to them:
“Ladies and gentlemen, this slender party with th’ hairy upper lip isMagpie Simpkins, and th’ bow-legged party beside him is Ike Harper,his mate. Now that yo’re properly introduced I’ll pilgrim back. Aurevoir.”
“Yuh will—in uh hearse,” snaps Magpie. “Come back here, yuh blamedcoyote and explain why yuh shirks yore duty. What’s th’ great idea?”
“My duty is done,” states Ricky. “These here persons desire to hirecompetent persons so I brings’ em up here. Every man in Piperock holdsup their hands and swears that they ain’t competent, so what could Ido? You and Ike shore must be. I reckon th’ perfessor can tell yuhwhat he wants, Magpie. I hates to deprive yuh of my company, but I’muh right busy man.”
“No depravity, Ricky,” sez Magpie. “Run right along home.”
And then he turns to th’ outfit. Th’ three of ’em are off theirmounts, and busy rubbin’ th’ circulation back into their legs. I feelsthat th’ perfessor has some chore, ’cause he has quite uh strip uhcountry to hear from