Just then Muley Bowles and Chuck Warner shows up, and joins us.
“Hear you’re goin’ to celebrate Christmas,” says Chuck, wiggling his ears.
“Want the Cross J quartet to sing?”
“Nope,” says Magpie. “This is goin’ to be a sanitary proceedin’, and there ain’t goin’ to be nothin’ done that might incite violence. We’re just as much obliged as though you burned your shirt, Chuck.”
“We’d sure be willing to help your ceremony,” says Muley. “We’d sing free gratis for nothin’, without chargin’ you a cent.”
“Nope. I ain’t got nothin’ against you your punchers—not as individual human beings, but——”
“I gets your meanin’, Magpie,” says Chuck. “The Cross J ain’t good enough for your danged old half-baked celebration, eh? Our harmonious voices don’t fit into your blasted old program-me. We has suffered and bled that Piperock might make a success of their unusual doings, but from now on we don’t do a danged thing to help yuh out. Your tone of voice is a insult to four of the best singers in Yaller Rock county.”
“I’m glad you understand what I meant,” says Magpie, mean-like. Muley and Chuck turns around and beats it for town.
“I reckon you know best, Magpie, but them four Cross J go-devils might do us wrong. Yuh might ’a’ let ’em sing one song,” opines Testament.
“Let’s get back to the ca-mel,” suggests Magpie.