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Lewis, Alfred Henry, 1857-1914

"Wolfville"


"`The bean I brings to the surface is white. I'm pale as a ghost. My
heart wilts like water inside of me, an' I feels white as the bean
where it lays in my hand. Of course I'm some young them days, an' it
don't need so much to stagger me. "`I recollects like it was in a
vision hearin' Jim laugh. "Sam," he says, "I reads you like so much
sunshine. An' I shorely fools you up a lot. Don't you reckon I
allows you'll double on the trail, p'intin' south if I says 'north'
at a show like this? The white bean is allers a rough, sandy bean;
allers was an' allers will be; an' never let no one fool you that a-
way ag'in. An' now, Sam, ADIOS."
"'I'm standin' lookin' at the white bean. I feels Jim grip my other
hand as lie says "ADIOS," an' the next is the" bang! "of the
Mexicans's guns. Jim's dead then; he's out in a second; never bats
an eye nor wags a y'ear.
"'Which now,' says Enright at the end, as he yanks his saddle 'round
so he makes a place for his head, 'which now that you-alls is fully
informed why I appears averse to Greasers, I reckons I'll slumber
some. I never does see one, I don't think of that boy, Jim Willis;
an' I never thinks of Jim but I wants to murder a Mexican.


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