It was broad day when I woke up—that is, the sun was beginnin’ to rise—an’ the fire had dwindled to coals, the breeze had begun to stir itself, an’ I was consid’able chilly. I saw the Friar’s nose stickin’ out o’ one side of his tarp an’ Horace’s nose stickin’ out the other, an’ I grinned purty contentedly.
My experience is, that quarrelsome people usually get along well together an’ make good company; but sad, serious, silent, polite folks is about the wearin’est sort of an affliction a body can have about.
I once heard a missionary preach about what a noble thing it was to control the temper. He must have been a good man, ’cause he was unusual solemn an’ wore his hair long an’ oily; but he only looked at one side o’ the question. I’ve known fellers who had such good control o’ their tempers that after they’d once been put out o’ humor over some little thing, they could keep from bein’ good tempered again for a year. And then again, when a feller keeps too tight a holt on his temper, his hands get numb, an’ his temper’s liable to shy at some silly thing an’ get clear away from him.
What I liked about both the Friar an’ Horace was, ’at they hadn’t froze up all their feelin’s. It was possible to get ’em stirred up about things, an’ this allus struck me as bein’ human; so I was glad to see Horace warmin’ his feet in the small o’ the Friar’s back, an’ I whistled a jig under my breath while gettin’ breakfast.
They grumbled consid’able when I rousted ’em out; but by the time they had soused their heads in the crick, they were in good humor again; an’ hungry! Say! Ever since I’d give him his treatment, Horace had had an appetite like a stray dog; while the Friar allus was a full hand at clearin’ tables, except on his one off-day a week. I gave the Friar a wink just as Horace splashed into his third cup o’ coffee, an’ sez: “Friar, you should have seen this creature when he first came out here. His muscles had all turned to fat, so that he could hardly wobble from one place to another, an’ he was so soft that when he’d lie down at night, his nerves would stick into him an’ keep him awake. Now, if it wasn’t for that fringy thing he wears on his face, he’d look almost exactly like a small-sized human.”
The only come-back Horace made was to start to sing with his mouth full o’ cornbread an’ bacon. This was more ’n any one could stand, so I tipped him over backward, an’ asked the Friar which way he was headin’.
The Friar’s face went grave at once; and then he began to post me up on Olaf the Swede. I had heard some rumors that summer, but hadn’t paid much heed to ’em. It now turned out that the Friar and Olaf had struck up friendly affiliations; so he was able to give me all the details.
Badger-face had a disposition like a bilious wolf, and when he was denied the satisfaction o’ jerkin’ Olaf out o’ this world, he had turned to with earnest patience to make Olaf regret it as much as he did. Olaf could stand more ’n the youngest son in a large family o’ mules, but he had his limitations, the same as the rest of us; so when he saw that Badger was engaged in makin’ the earth no fit place for him to habitate, he began to feel resentful.
When a boss is mean, he is still the boss and he don’t irritate beyond endurance; but a foreman is nothin’ but a fellow worker, after all; so when he gets mean, he’s small and spidery in his meanness; and I reckon ’at Olaf was justified in tryin’ to unjoint Badger-face, thorough and complete.
O’ course, Ty had to back up Badger for the sake o’ discipline; but he didn’t wreak any vengeance on Olaf when he tendered in his resignation, which proves ’at Ty still was full o’ respect for Olaf. Badger was groanin’ on his back when Olaf left; but he called out that he intended to get square, if he had to wear all the curves off his own body to do it.