Of all tales 'tis the saddest—and more sad
Because it makes us smile.
Contrary to the old saw, "Misery loves company," Damfino wished to be alone. She said she wanted to cry, but couldn't. She had the sympathy of us all. Only those who have suffered can appreciate the sufferings of others. I never shall forget my profanity and the pain that prompted it when the too considerate Prof. consented to my electric bath.
And now, with the same kind motives oozing out of his face, he introduced the sage brush dentist to Damfino. Dr. Arrowroot dropped his toolchest and seizing his patient by the upper jaw with his left hand and by the lower jaw with his right, said: "Open up, madam," and proceeded to examine her molars.
"Locate the claim, Doc?" an on-looker asked, facetiously.
The doctor said he did, but no sooner began to dig than he was ejected. Then the tooth-doctor called for volunteers to assist him; every man not valuing his life responded. Two Mexicans held the remote end of a long pole and pried Damfino's jaws apart, while several Indians and halfbreeds braced against her sides to prevent her from kicking and falling.
At length, Doc fastened his forceps on the ulcerated tooth, and, grinding his teeth and wrinkling his face, yanked with all his might. He might just as well have tried to pull a tree out of the ground. He rested a few moments, then sent for some hay wire and a lariat, and after wiring the lariat to the tooth, tied it to Damfino's hind feet. We other donks were holding our sides; I thought I would "bust." Then, when the patient was unbound—that cantankerous donkey's four legs were roped together to prevent further excavations in the local cemetery—there was performed the neatest, cleverest, most thoroughly successful piece of dental surgery that I ever heard of. That moaning "Old maid" just kicked the tooth clean out of her jaw. And, s'help me Balaam! the root of all that evil was three inches long.
Poor Damfino was the last to realize that the trick had been accomplished, and kept on kicking till she threw off the lariat and slung the molar half way through the side of the store. When Pod showed her the tooth, she brayed for the loss of it, and as evidence of her ingratitude, the shrew turned to me and whispered: "Mac, since I pulled my own tooth, how can that brutal dentist have the nerve to ask pay for it?"
"He got the nerve from your tooth, like as not," I said. "You once told me that the Bible says, 'An eye for an eye, and a tooth for a tooth,'"—and in a jiffy Damfino made for that innocent, fleet-footed tooth-doctor, before Pod could have time to settle with him.
Before long, I was leading the troop up the sage-covered mesa in step with Damfino's mutterings. When we arrived at Billy Jones' ranch, Billy was leaning on the picket fence in front of his back door. His house was once turned around, hind side foremost, by a cyclone. He was munching pinenuts, and did not budge, at first, taking us for prospectors. When Pod introduced himself, Billy almost fell to pieces with surprise. Soon Mrs. Jones came out, and Pod was almost persuaded to remain over night.