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Lewis, Alfred Henry, 1857-1914

"Wolfville"

Eighteen Red Dog gents is thar, each totin' of
a can of tomatters. An' let me impart right yere, son, we never has
a more free an' peacefuller day than said Thanksgivin'.
"'Them beans is a little hard, ain't they?' says Doc Peets, while
we-alls is eatin', bein' p'lite an' elegant like. 'Mebby they don't
get b'iled s'fficient?'
"'Them beans is all right,' says the War Chief of the Red Dogs.
'They be some hard, but you can't he'p it none. It's the altitood;
the higher up you gets, the lower heat it takes to b'ile water. So
it don't mush up beans like it should.'
"'That's c'rrect every time,' says Enright; 'I mind bein' over back
of Prescott once, an' up near timber-line, an' I can't b'ile no
beans at all. I'm up that high the water is so cold when it b'iles
that ice forms on it some. I b'iles an' b'iles on some beans four
days, an' it don't have no more effect than throwin' water on a
drowned rat. After persistent b'ilin', I skims out a hand. ful an'
drops 'em onto a tin plate to test 'em, an' it sounds like buckshot.
As you says, it's the altitood.'
"'Gents,' says the boss of Red Dog, all of a sudden, an' standin' up
by Enright, 'I offers the toast: "Wolfville an' Red Dog, now an'
yereafter.


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