Chit-Chat; Nirvana; The SearchlightHolt, Mathew Joseph
General
Chit-Chat; Nirvana; The Searchlight
Holt, Mathew Joseph
Fiction
"Ever been up heyr before? I was in yer town onct. I rid down to
Livingston on the old gray mare, then took the train thar, toting my
saddle bags on my arm. When I got off the train at the dee-pot, a nigger
steps up and says ter me: 'Boss, give me yer verlisse.' He didn't get
them saddle bags, you bet. I was too sharp for that. I went to a hotel
somewheres. They stuck a big book under my nose and says, sign hayr. I
done hearn tell of them confidence and lightnin' rod men and I signed
nothin'. They sent me to a room with red carpyt on the floor and velvit
cheers with flowers kinder scotched in them; and the man behind the
counter gave the nigger a lamp and told him to cut off the gas. That
nigger tried to take them saddle bags but I hung on, when he says, all
right boss and left go. That place had a box lifter to it. After a while
I got tired of settin' in that room and thought I would go out and see
the town; so I locked the door and come down erbout forty steps to the
front door. Then that first feller what wanted me ter sign the book
says; Leave the key and saddle bags with me. I says, says I, You can
have the key but no man gits holt of them saddle bags. It's a good thing
I brung them erlong, fer I never did find that place ergin. I went
erbout a quarter, when I met a smart feller and he says ter me; Old man,
where're you gwinter show! I says right here, by gad! and I run my hand
into them saddle bags and brung out my cap and ball. That feller shore
broke the wind, he showed some speed. What moight yer bissiniss be?"
"This is the first time I was ever up here. I'm a lawyer."
"Yaah, one of them city lawyers; they tell me they is cute. I have had
to do some lawing lately. Down the crick erbout a mile Elhannon Howard
lives. Last winter I sold Elhannon a hawg on credit fer ten dollars like
a dang fool and he wouldn't pay fer it, so I lawed him before Squire
Ingram and got jedgment. That and the costs come ter fifteen dollars and
a quarter. The Squire writ out an execution and I got the constable to
levy on three hives of bees; the constable says that's all he's got
what's exempt. We had a hell of a time moving them bees, then we had to
move them back."
"How was that?"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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