"Micky picks up a pitchfork.
"'Go awn, you black boob!' he says. 'If I reaches fer yer gizzard with this tickler, I gets it!'
"Snowball backs up. I grabs the fork from the little shrimp.
"'Now, you beat it!' I says to him.
"'Aw, you go to hell!' says Micky. He lays down on a bail of straw 'n' pulls his hat over his face. 'If any guy bothers me while I'm gettin' my rest,' he says, 'call a hearse. Don't wake me up till some guy wants a hoss worked out.'
"One day I goes to lay a piker's bet in Ike Rosenberg's book.
"'All across on Tantrum,' I says to Ike.
"'Hello, Blister,' says Ike, when he goes to hand me the ticket. 'I like that one myself. Go over 'n' lay me a hundred 'n' fifty the same way,—here's the change.'
"When I bring Ike his ticket he tells me to wait a minute, 'n' pretty soon he puts a sheet-writer on the block 'n' steps down.
"'Come over here,' he says, 'n' I trails him out of the bettin' shed. 'I've took a two-year-old for a thousand dollar marker of Seattle's,' says Ike, swingin' 'round on me. 'You want him?'