Bunch Grass: A Chronicle of Life on a Cattle RanchVachell, Horace Annesley
General
Bunch Grass: A Chronicle of Life on a Cattle Ranch
Vachell, Horace Annesley
Ranching -- California -- Fiction; Short stories, English; Western stories
"What in thunder did ye go to town fer?" asked the old man. "Speak up,
Johnnie. Give us the cold facts."
Then Bumblepuppy made the speech of his life.
"Uncle Abram, you tole me to obey Mis' Janssen, an' do what she said."
"That's so, Johnnie."
"Yesday, she tole me to fix up an' be ready to go to San Lorenzy with
her. She said we'd travel by night 'cause o' the heat. An' she said I
was not to 'sturb you. She said she'd come to the winder an' tap. Then
I'd crawl out without 'sturbin' you. Wal--she come around about two,
jest as the roosters was a'crowin 'fer the second time. I slipped out
o' winder in my stockined feet. I hope I didn't 'sturb ye?"
"Ye didn't. Go on."
"In town Mis' Janssen said she'd fixed it up to marry me. She said I
needed a lovin' wife, and that me an' she'd have a Fourth o' July time
together. I said nothing, 'cause you'd tole me never to interrup' a
lady when she was a-talkin'. She kep' on a-talkin' till we got to the
Court House, where Mis' Janssen bought a licence. Then we hunted a
minister. Bimeby, he ast me if I was willin' to take Sairy Anne
Janssen to be my wife----"
"An' ye said NO, my own Johnnie?"
"That's what I done, Uncle Abram. And then she sez, kinder wheedlin':
'But you will marry yer Sairy Anne, Johnnie, won't ye?' And then,
gittin' scared, I kinder forgot my manners, fer I said: 'No--I'm d----
d if I will!' An' I disremember what she said nex', but I found myself
in the road, a-runnin' like a mad steer. Jee! that road was hotter'n a
red-hot stove!"
During the recital of this adventure Bumblepuppy's face had deepened
in tint till it glowed like an iron disc in the heart of a fire. As he
finished speaking, he knelt down and dipped his head into the cool,
bubbling creek. Lifting up his ruddy face, a ray of sunshine,
filtering through the tremulous leaves of the cottonwoods, fell full
upon his chestnut curls, and each drop of water on his hair became of
a sudden a gem of prismatic colour and most brilliant lustre.
"Phew-w-w!" said Bumblepuppy. "I hope Mis' Janssen ain't feelin' as
warm as I am."
VI
JASPERSON'S BEST GIRL
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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