"It gets so I don't dare look at Peewee fur fear we'll get started 'n' Butsy'll quit.
"At a burg called Mansfield I finds a good bunch of live ones 'n' we grabs off three hundred life-savers. It seems to help Butsy a lot—he acts more cheerful right away.
"'Cherries are ripe,' he says. 'Our next town's Mount Clinton. I know every boob in it. We'll sift some change out of them Knox County plow-pushers.'
"We ships over the B. & O. to Mount Clinton. It's rainin' when we unloads, 'n' Butsy ain't as cheerful as he was.
"'How far is it to the track?' Peewee says to him.
"'About three miles 'n' all hills,' says Butsy.
"'How do you get out?' says Peewee.
"'We could take the street-car if it wasn't fur the hosses,' says Butsy. 'As it is we'll have to hoof it through the mud.'
"'Look-a here,' I says to Butsy, 'there's no sense in three of us gettin' wet. You know the way 'n' we don't. You take the hosses 'n' we'll come out on the street-car.'
"'I thought it 'ud be like that,' says Butsy. 'You two always pick out the soft stuff fur yourselves 'n' hand me the lemons. I guess I'll just put my hoss back in the freight car 'n' be on my way.'