"You're making a fool of yo'self," says Miss Blossom, "and the man wants feeding. Picturesque! Bosh! Shoo!" She chased Miss Pansy out of the room.
As to Curly, she lay on the sofa kicking high with joy. "Chalkeye," she howled, "you ole hoss-thief, keep yo' tearin' spurs off my new cyarpet. You picturesque, beautiful, leather-faced, cock-eyed robber! 'Ware tables, or they'll bite yo' laigs! Oh, gimme yo' paw to shake, and throw me a cigarette. Look out—that chair's goin' to buck!"
I sat on the edge of the chair, and grabbed her hand while she called me all sorts of pet names. Then it seems that Miss Pansy broke loose from Miss Blossom, and came surging back, for she heard the pet names, and shrieked—
"Oh! oh! Stop! What frightful language! Oh, please, if you're a lady—remember! Oh, Misteh Davies, you mustn't let her smoke!"
"Curly," says I, "you're shot, and you got to be good in a small voice, or——"
"Good," says Curly; "I'm a wolf. I come from Bitter Creek. The higher up, the worse the waters, and I'm from the source, and it's my night to how-w-l. Yow-ow-ow!"
"Well," Miss Pansy shrieked, "I call it disgraceful, so there!"
"I don't care," says Curly. "I won't be good in a small voice, and I'll call this dear ole hoss-thief all the names I please. Why, Chalkeye and me punched cows at Holy Cross! Say, Chalkeye, d'you remember when I stuck burrs in under yo' saddle, and you got pitched to glory? Why, that's the very old hat I shot full of holes, and oh, I do enjoy to see you so much, you dear ole villain!"
Then Miss Blossom dragged Miss Pansy away to cook supper, and Curly settled down with her little paw in my fist.
"My habits," says she, "is a sure scandal, and I ain't got no more manners nor a bear. My language ain't becoming to a young gentlewoman, and my eating would disgrace a pinto hawss. They cayn't refawm me a lil' bit, and when I tries to set up on my tail, and look pretty, they tell me rebukes for crossin' my laigs like a cowboy. Oh, take me away, ole Chalkeye, take me away to the range and the camps, to feel the night-frosts agin, to sleep with the stars, to see the sun come up, to ride in the heat. This roof sets down on me at night. I cayn't see for walls; I cayn't get air to breathe. These ladies has roped me, and thrown me, tied down for branding, ears in the dust. Oh, take me away from this!"