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Lewis, Alfred Henry, 1857-1914

"Wolfville"

Good
folks though, I sees that; an' as a passel of 'em near the door
looks shocked at the sight of me, I'm too bashful to break out
ag'in, but sorter aiges into the nearest seat an' stands pat.
"'I can tell the outfit figgers on me raisin' the long yell an'
stampedin' round to make trouble; so I thinks to myse'f I'll fool
'em up a lot. I jest won't say a word. So I sets silent as a coyote
at noon; an' after awhile the sharp who's dealin' for 'em goes on
with them petitions I interrupts as I comes bulgin' in.
"'Their range-boss says one thing I remembers. It's about castin'
your bread upon the waters. He allows you'll get it ag'in an' a band
of mavericks with it. It's playin' white chips to win blues; that's
what this sharp says.
"'It shorely strikes me as easy. Every time you does good, says this
party, Fate is out to play a return game with you; an' it's written
you quits winner on all the good you promulgates that a-way.
"'I sets the deal out an' gets some sleepy at it, too. But I won't
leave an' scand'lize the congregation; an' as I gives up strong when
the plate goes by, I ain't regarded as no setback.
"'When the contreebution-box--which she's a tin plate--comes
chargin' by, I'm sorter noddin,' I'm that weary.


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