to have the pleasure of reflecting him.  Looking-glass?  I should say he had!  And a bureau, and a boot-blacking jigger, and a feather bed, and curtains, and truck in his room.  Strange fellers used to open their eyes when they saw that room.  ‘Helloo-o!’ they’d say, ’whose little birdie have we here?’ And other remarks that hurt our feelings considerable.  Jonesy, he said the fellers were a rank lot of barbarians.  He said it to old Neighbour Case’s face, and he and the old man came together like a pair of hens, for Jonesy had sand in spite of his faults, That was a fight worth travelling to see.  They covered at least an acre of ground; they tore the air with upper swats and cross swipes; they hollered, they jumped and they pitched, and when the difficulty was adjusted we found that Jonesy’s coat was painfully ripped up the back and Neighbour Case had lost his false teeth.  One crowd of fellers patted Jones on the back and said, ’Never mind your coat, old horse; you’ve licked a man twice your age,’ and the other comforted Neighbour, saying, ’Never mind, Case; you can ease your mind by thinking how you headed up that rooster, and he fifty pounds lighter than you.’

“Jonesy put on airs after that.  He felt he was a hard citizen.  And then he had the misfortune to speak harshly to Arizona Jenkins when Old Dry Belt was in liquor.  Then he got roped and dragged through the slough.  He cried like a baby whilst I helped him scrape the mud off, but not because he was scared!  No, sir!  That little runt was full of blood and murder.

“‘You mark me, now, Red,’ says he, the tears making bad-land water courses through the mud on his cheeks, ’I shall fire upon that man the first time I see him—­will you lend me your revolver?’

“‘Lord, Jones, see here,’ says I, ’don’t you go making any such billy-goat play as that—­keep his wages until he apologizes; put something harmful in his grub; but, as you have respect for the Almighty’s handiwork as represented by your person, don’t pull a gun on Arizona Jenkins—­that’s the one thing he won’t take from nobody.’

“‘D-d-darn him!’ snivels Jonesy, ‘I ain’t afraid o-o-of him;’ and the strange fact is that he wasn’t.  Well, I saw he was in such a taking that he might do something foolish and get hurt, so I goes to Arizona and says I, ‘You ought to apologize to Jones.’  What Zony replied ain’t worth repeating—­’and you along with him,’ he winds up.

“‘Now ain’t that childish?’ I says.  ’A six-footer like you that can shoot straight with either hand, and yet ain’t got generosity enough to ease the feelings of a poor little devil that’s fair busting with shame.’

“‘Well, what did he want to tell me to shut up my mouth for?’ cried Old Dry Belt.  ‘Men have died of less than that.’

“‘Aw, shucks, Zony,’ I says, ’a great, big man like you oughtn’t to come down on a little cuss who’s all thumb-hand-side and left feet.’

“‘That be blowed,’ says he—­only he says it different.  ’I’d like to know what business such a sawed-off has to come and tell a full-grown man like me to shut up his mouth?  He’d ought to stay in a little man’s place and talk sassy to people his own size.  When he comes shooting off his bazoo to a man that could swaller him whole without loosening his collar, it’s impidence; that’s what it is.’