Who stoops to lift the pin?
So thus the crowds do hurry past
The crooked slave of sin.
DUDLEY’S FIGHT WITH THE TEXAN.
The poor cur, kicked and scalded during the day, at night can lie and lick his sores in peace. The scudding hare that can hold out ahead of the baying beagles, until black Hecate waves her wand between the hunters and the hunted, may hope to shake them off. The aeronaut, tiring of the clamor here below, can rise above the busy haunts of men and hold sweet communion with the gods in quiet. But I, alas, find no escape from the inexorable plague, “Jim Dudley.”
He comes upon me like a thief in the night and mars my rest. Within the holy sanctuary even, he whispers in mine ear. Through the busy marts and thoroughfares he haunts me still; and tells of fights and hair-breadth escapes, with all the glibness of an old battle-scarred veteran who has primed his firelock in three campaigns. He talks of drawing deadly weapons as a dentist would of drawing teeth. In all likelihood the fellow never drew a weapon in his life, except, perhaps, at a raffle. I had long noticed a scar on “Jim’s” forehead, but never ventured to ask him how he got it, fearing a story would follow. Last night he detected me looking inquiringly, and without any query on my part the following infliction fell upon me:—
“You see that scar that looks somethin’ like a wrinkle, over my left eyebrow, don’t ye? Wal, you can’t guess how I come by that. Cow kicked me? No, not by a long chalk, nor a hoss nuther. I got that scar the summer I was gwine through Texas. I’ll not forget how I got it nuther in a hurry, for I never did have sech a narrow dodge since the night dad’s old house burned down and I got out through the cellar drain.
“I was travelin’ towards the border of Texas, gwine away back of Waco, and arter I got as far as cars would take me I set out on hossback. One evenin,’ jest as I was gettin’ into a small village, my hoss got one of his legs into a hole in the road, and fallin’ over, broke it snap off below the knee. I felt mi’ty bad over it, because I didn’t have any too much money about me; but I had to leave him thar and go into the village on foot, carryin’ the saddle along, for I cal’lated to git another animal the next day and continue my journey. I put up for the night at a small hotel, and thar was quite a number of fellers a settin’ around the bar-room talkin’; but amongst ’em was one big, ugly-looking villain, with a glass eye that was continewally droppin’ out and rollin’ across the floor like a marble. Pupil up and pupil down, it would move along under chairs and tables, the most comical lookin’ thing you ever sot eyes on. He would walk after the truant, glarin’ around with the other eye as though watchin’ to see if anybody was laughin’ at him. Then he would pick it up and chuck it back into his head ag’in, as if it was a pipe that had dropped out of his mouth.
“He seemed to be a bully amongst ’em, for when any of the other fellows went to pass they circled around him, somethin’ like a woman around a hoss standin’ on the sidewalk. I judged by that they were skeered of him, and didn’t want to git anywhere near his corns lest they might accidentally touch ’em.