“I do not quite like the tone you adopt in speaking of Mr. Simon Hibler,” said George icily. “It smacks of irreverence and presumption. Still less do I relish your persistent reference to him as ‘our’ employer. It amounts to an assumption of a certain equality in our respective positions that I cannot for an instant tolerate.” He strutted to the hearthrug and turned his back to the fire; he fiddled with his watch-chain; tone and manner were heavily pompous. “In a way, of course, Mr. Hibler might be said to employ us both. But I would have you realize that a vast gulf separates the social status of a lowly cow-servant, stolid and stunned, a brother to the ox, from that of an embryo Blackstone--like myself. I accept a position and receive a salary. You take a job and draw wages. Moreover, a lawyer’s clerk marries the youngest daughter and is taken into the firm. By the way, Hibler has no daughter. I must remind him of this. ‘Hibler & Aughinbaugh, Counselors at Law.’ That’ll look good in silver letters on a sanded, dark-blue background, eh, Jefferson? But soft! methinks my natural indignation has diverted me from your question. No, my good fellow, I do not know when Mr. Hibler is returning to El Paso. Are you already tired of urban delights, Mr. Bransford?” “I was tired of urban delights,” remarked Mr. Bransford, “before you were out of short dresses. However, I’ve waited this long and I’ll stay right here in El Paso till he comes. I bore myself some, daytimes, but we have bully good times of nights. You’re as good as a show--better. Tune up your Julius Cæsar!” “Your attitude--if you will overlook the involuntary rhyme,” said George, “is one of base ingratitude. I endeavor to instruct and uplift you. You might be absorbing sweetness and light at every pore, acquiring a love for the true, the good and the beautiful--and you are merely amused! It is disheartening. As for this golden volume, this masterpiece of William Shakspere’s genius--‘which, pardon me, I do not mean to read’----” “Oh, go on! Of course you’re going to read it. We’ve got almost through it. You left off just beyond ‘the-will-give-us-the-will, we-will-have-the-will.’” “Why, you lazy pup, why didn’t you read it yourself? You have nothing to do. I have to work.” “I did read it through to-day. And began at the first again. But,” said Jeff admiringly, “I like to hear you read it. You have such a lovely voice, Mr. Crow.”