She bristles up as much as uh fat woman like her can bristle after uh night on uh real hard bunk, and snorts—
“Do you expect me to wash in cold water?”
“Ma’am,” sez I, “when it comes to expectin’ things I pass up wimmen. Not havin’ known me only uh few hours, and most uh them at night, I don’t see why my expectations should interest yuh so much. In this country uh person don’t git so awful dirty jist sleepin’, so we figger that anybody what is so much of uh dude as to want to wash in th’ mornin’ can do it in cold water.”
“I want some hot water and I want it immediately!” she howls, and waddles into th’ cabin.
“I’d say that th’ perfessor is more to be pitied than censured,” sez Magpie. “After listenin’ to her, and observin’ her face and figger, I can’t believe th’ perfessor’s statement that he’s ignorant uh natural history. She’s shore uh bear, Ike, and I’d——”
“Is that water ready for my ablution?” sez Mrs. Perfessor, stickin’ her head out of th’ door.
“Right away,” sez I, goin’ over and pickin’ up some sticks.
I don’t aim to invade her boodwah. Our stove ain’t five feet from my bunk, so I makes our li’l fire outside. Magpie follers me over with uh can uh water and puts it on th’ fire.
“Cripes!” sez he. “Ain’t uh woman uh queer proposition, Ike? She said at first that she wants to wash her face and——”
“She said she wanted to wash. She didn’t designate her face, Magpie.”