"'No, have chicken—all the chicken you want—and some more coffee,' said I.
"Eat! How that fellow did go for it—five pieces of chicken! I'd rather see him repeat that performance than go to a minstrel show. He slid off his stool again, saying: 'Major, I guess I'm all in. T'anks.'
"'Oh, no; have some pie,' I said.
"'Well,' he replied, 'Major, 's you shift the deck, guess I will play one more frame.'
"'Gash o' apple,' said Weary to the waiter.
"When I insisted upon his having a third piece of pie, the hobo said:
'No, Major, t'anks, I got to ring off or I'll break de bank.'
"He, for once, had enough. I gave him a cigar. He sat down to smoke— contented, I thought. I paid the bill; things are high in Montana, you know—his part was $2.85. My hobo friend saw $3.55 rung up on the cash register. Then I went over and sat down beside him.
"'Feeling good?' said I.
"'Yep, but chee! Dat feed, spread out, would a lasted me clean to
Sain' Paul.'"
Although the traveling man will feed the hungry tramp on early strawberries and fried chicken when ham sandwiches straight would touch the spot better, all of his generosity is not for fun. A drug salesman told me this experience: