A piece onct, I remember, jes’ fer fun, The handiest feller with ’is heels we hed. Say! Soon’s the pizen got ter work inside, Thet cuss begun ter ram around an’ beller Like he was givin’ birth t’ a pair o’ twins, A thing no or’nary mule aint s’posed ter dew. An’ then ’e up an’ kicked the barn door out, Le’pt over coupla gates an’ started off Like them thar Gadarenian swine yew’ve heerd About in Scriptur’. Reck’n he’s runnin’ yit, Leastways we never seen ’im ar’terwards. Wal, I begun ter color up, until I looked some ’ut like summer crook-necks dew Dead-ripe in August. Appetite ’bout gone, An’ nervous ez a new-broke colt hitched up Ter plow. An’ still I chawed an’ smoked an’ chawed, An’ couldn’t seem ter git enough. _Black Twist_ Ter me was like a peece o’ straw ter yew. I scoured the kentry stores; the strongest brands Would satisfy no more ’n molasses would. O’ co’se yew understand I wa’n’t no _slave_ Ter thet thar weed; I only _hed_ ter _hev_ it, That’s all. (They’s fokes ’at thinks they ain’t no diff’runce Atween them two idees; _we_ know they is.) One day a pedlar come along, an’ Laury She bought a coupla packages o’ pills ’T the feller said was ‘guaranteed’ ter knock Terbacker habits higher ’n wheat, an’ cure The most ‘invertebrate’—or some sich word— Terbacker user in the world. She kep’ It dark, an’ fed them pellets on the sly Ter me in stuff I et. But ’twa’n’t no use; I kep’ on chawin’ more an’ more. It might ’A’ made some diff’runce, p’raps, ef I hed knowed What she was up tew. Ginally yew hev Ter _know_ about sich things ter hev ’em dew Ye enny good at all. Wal, things was thet ’A’ way when yew fust come. Yew ’member when I met ye up ’t the deepo yew was smokin’ Thet thar same shag stuff yew’re a-smokin’ now; I ketched a whiff or tew—I never told Ye ’bout it ’fore—but ’twas enough; it done What nuthin’ else hed done fur thirty year. I haint bit off a single chaw sence that, Or smoked a whiff, so help me Moses Pratt!” When I’d collected all my senses back, Bill he hed slid away an’ gone ter bed. XX The New Year’s Turkey We all hed come ter Bill’s ter spend the day, New Year’s it was, an’ Bill hed shaved, an iled ’Is hair, an’ greased ’is boots, an’ looked ez gay ’Z a feller kin in clo’es thet ain’t be’n siled. “I reck’n I didn’t tell ye ’bout this fowl,” He sez, an’ stopped ’is carvin’ fer a bit, While Laury looked ez if she’s goin’ ter scowl, An’ tried by signs ter steer ’im off of it. “This feller didn’t seem ter hev no sex; Ha’f hen, ha’f Tom he was; he’d go a-whangin’ Like Toms do, tails spread, wings a-draggin’, necks All druggled up, an’ great red beads a-hangin’;