Rufus would be aroused each Sunrise by a full Military Band of 60
Pieces playing "Hail to the Chief who in Triumph Advances."
Whenever Edgar was forced into a Battle and came home smeared and disarranged, his Mother would go to her Room and Cry softly and Father would paint a vivid Word-Picture of a Wretch standing on the Gallows with a Black Cap over his Head.
Then Edgar would crawl to the Hay Mow and brood over his Moral
Infirmities and try in a groping way to figure out his Relation to
Things in General.
But, when Rufus appeared all dripping with Gore, his Seconds would cool him out and rub him with Witch Hazel and pin Medals on him.
No wonder he became as pugnacious as U. S. Grant, as conceited as a
Successful Business Man and as self-assured as a Chautauqua Lecturer.
Every one disliked him intensely. But just the same, they stepped off into the Mud and gave him the entire double width of the Cement Sidewalk.
Edgar, on the other hand, was one of the most popular Door-Mats that ever had "Welcome" marked up and down his Spinal Column.
All those who scratched Matches on him and used him as a Combination Hall-Tree and Hitching Post used to remark that he didn't have an Enemy in the World.
They had corralled his Goat, so he had to play the Part himself.
It had been dinged into him that True Politeness means to wait until every one else has been Served and then murmur a few Thanks for the Leavings.