“Mr. Smythe was settin’ down on a stump lookin’ mighty used up.
“ ‘Sick?’ asked Jim. ‘Come over to the shanty and I’ll give you some whiskey.’
“At the word ‘whiskey’ Mr. Smythe jumped up and pranced about like a wild man.
“ ‘I’ve drunk too much whiskey,’ he yells, ‘I’ve drunk too much of the stuff that stingeth like an adder.’
“ ‘You act as though you had ’em,’ said Jim.
“ ‘I have got ’em,’ yelled the storekeeper. ‘I’ve seen snakes, all kinds, breeds, and colors of snakes. I’m a sick man. I want to get home where I can pray and pour all my whiskey through a knot-hole in the wall. I’ll never drink it again, so help me, I won’t.’
“Dox he looked at me and winked and I didn’t say nothin’. After the storekeeper left I told Jim all about the little grass-snakes, and I ast him what Mr. Smythe meant when he said he had ’em, and then Jim tried to get a joke on me about men who drink whiskey seein’ things as are not pleasant to look at. He didn’t do it, though.”
“I’m mighty surprised, surprised and disturbed,” said the widow. “I thought Mr. Smythe was everythin’ a man should be. Ain’t it funny how one can be fooled by a man?”
Mary Ann looked up.
“Somehow Mr. Smythe didn’t fool me,” she said. “I knew he drank whiskey, because he smelled of it. I knew he swore by the way his tongue and eyes fought with each other. I knew he lied because he said he loved all men. There’s nobody alive and natural built that way.”