They
go back to the farm when the meetin' closes, so I ain't worried
none--not about where to ship.
"One night me 'n' Peewee Simpson is playin' pitch on a bale of hay with
a lantern. Butsy Trimble is settin' beside the bale readin' a hoss
paper.
"'Gimme high, jack, game--' says Peewee, after a hand.
"'I'll give you a poke in the nose!' I says. 'What you got fur game?'
"'I s'pose you want to count fur game--don't you?' says Peewee. 'I'll
give it to you sooner'n argue with you.'
"'You're right, you'll give it to me,' I says.
"'Well, I said I'd give it to you, didn't I?' says Peewee. 'You'd
rather argue'n eat, wouldn't you?'
"'All that's wrong with you,' I says, 'is you're sore 'cause you can't
hog game!'
"Peewee lays down his cards.
"'Now, look a here, you freckle-faced shrimp!' he says. 'Get off this
bale of hay--it'll _poison_ a hoss if _you_ set on it much longer!'
"'Whose bale of hay do you think this is?' I says. 'You tryin' to hog
_it_ like you does game?'
"'Gimme my lantern 'n' I'll be on my way,' says Peewee.
"'I puts the oil in that lantern,' I says, ''n' she sets right where
she is till she makes her last flicker.'
"'Cut it! Cut it!' says Butsy, spreadin' out his hoss paper. 'Act
like you has some sense, 'n' I puts you hep to a hot scheme I gets out
of this paper--us three can pull it off to a finish!'
"'I don't want in on no scheme with that lantern snatcher!' says Peewee
then to me.
"'If you don't age some,' I says to Peewee, 'nursie'll come around
here, 'n' put a nice fresh panty-waist on you!'
"Then Butsy goes ahead 'n' tells us the frame-up.
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