"Who in creation said he had a muzzle?" cried the would-be story-teller. "I said——"
"I know you did, Shadow dear," said Luke Watson, who sat on a low stool with his banjo in his lap, tuning up. "Don't let them sidetrack you, or the bulldog either."
"What I want to know is this," said Phil, impressively. "Were those men white or black? That may have a very important bearing on the moral of the tale."
"See here, if you don't want to hear the story——" began Shadow, half angrily.
"We do! we do!" came from several at once.
"We are dying for you to finish," said Roger. "Now start up again. A small bulldog once came along, leading a big, fierce man——"
"That's not right," broke in Buster. "A small bulldog once met another bulldog leading a bulldog-colored man who——"
"Great Cæsar! That's as bad as the story of the canner," broke in Sam. "The canner can eat what he can and what he can't he can can, can't he?" And a laugh went up.
"I am going to tell this story if I die for it," cried Shadow. "A small man—remember that—met another man—remember that—with a big, fierce bulldog—remember that. The small man was afraid, but he didn't want to show it, so he said to the man with the bulldog: 'Is that dog a valuable animal?' 'Yes,' says the other man. 'Well, don't let him loose, then.' 'Why not?' 'Because I don't like dogs and I might hurt him.' Now there's the story, and you've got to swallow it whether you want to or not."