“Right as a fox,” Halfaman replied. “Say, you have been about the camps a little, ain’t you? Now, then—did you get an earful o’ my recent begattin’ remarks—pertickelerly the last, where I says: ‘Eleazar begat Phinehas. Phinehas begat Abishua?’”
“Yes, I heard.”
“And now another question, ol’-timer: You’re such an old head at the railroadin’ game, did you ever know anybody named Abishua?”
“I think not.”
“Uh-huh—I guess you’re right. It ain’t known generally that the bird I’m thinkin’ about is named Abishua. Only the members of his family and a few close friends—sounds like a newspaper tellin’ about a weddin’ or a funeral—only them know he’s got a Bible name like that. But his right front name is Abishua. And don’t forget that Phinehas begat Abishua. Phinehas—that’s me. And if I begat Abishua I’m a bigger Jasper than Abishua, ain’t I? Well, what I say goes. How ’bout it?”
“I am hoping,” remarked The Falcon dryly, “that if you keep on you you may tell me something.”
“Gi’me time, Jack—gi’me time,” retorted Halfaman. “Stick yer neck in th’ collar, there, ole tassel-tail! Gi’me time. So you’ve heard tell of gypo men and gypo queens, but you never heard of an Ike called Abishua. Well, then, did you ever hear of a gypo queen called Wing o’ the Crow?”
The Falcon turned on his side and looked down at Halfaman. “Wing o’ the Crow,” he said thoughtfully. “That’s picturesque. What about her?”
“Her is right. And Abishua begat Wing o’ the Crow. Believe me, ole Falcon, that was some begattin’!”
“Yes—go on.”