“I’m goin’ on tu tell you. Lor! heow I did yel! you’d a thought thar was fifty painters abeout. Miss Dill, she cum a-runnin’ out, an’ ast what was the matter. “‘Look here,’ sez I, holdin’ up my thumb, which was bleedin’ like all Jehu. ‘What shall I do?’ sez I. “‘I’ll tell you what,’ says Miss Dill, an’ she run an’ got a leaf of live-for-ever, an’ sez she, ‘peel off the skin, an’ put the peth on.’ “‘Peel it yerself,’ sez I, a-cryin’ with the exhuberant pain. “So she peeled it and tied it on, an’ in tu days thar wan’t a bit of soreness in it; but the nail cum off.” “But come to Gillis’s store. What did you say about Harris that night?” “Wal, all I recollect is, that Thompson an’ a lot of fellers was thar; an’ Thompson and I shot at a mark for whiskey, an’ Thompson he win, and we drinkt at my expense. Then Bill Gallager and Dill they shot, an’ Dill beat Bill, an’ we drinkt at his expense. Then Charley Gillis he shot agin Frank Souther, an’ Frank win; and we drinkt at Charley’s expense; an’ then Frank he sung a song, an’ then Thompson he sung a song; and the next I recollect was—” “Well, Sir, was what?” “Why, I waked up next mornin’ on Gillis’ counter the sickest critter yeu ever see. I didn’t get over that spree for tu long weeks.” “Well, is that all you have to say?” “All I recollect at present. If I think of any more, I’ll come in an’ tell ye.” “You may go, Sir.” Harris won the suit. XIII. THE TWO FAT SALS.[11] If every man were to relate the little romances of love in which he becomes involved, at some time or other of his life, novelists or farce-writers would be supplied with plots and incidents enough to supply publishers and managers with a continual run of novelties for all times. In the story of the “Two Fat Sals” is recorded the experience of one man only, but it affords a very useful lesson on the evils of a mind divided in the matter of love, and another illustrious example of the truth of the aphorism, that “the course of true love never did run smooth.” “There was two Sals livin’ in our town—Sal Stebbins and Sal Babit; real corn-fed gals, I swow. Sal Stebbins would lift a barrel of cyder out of the eend of a cart as quick as any other feller, and drink it tew. Sal Babit, she was so fat, she’d roll one way jest as easy as t’other, and if anything, a little _easier_. Well, there was a corn-husking, and I went along with Sal Stebbins: there was all the gals and boys settin’ reound, and I got sot down so near Sal Babit, that I’ll be darned if I didn’t kiss her afore I know’d what I was abeout. Sal Stebbins, she blushed: the blood rushed right up into her hair: she was the best _red_ critter I ever did see. I thought it was all up with me, and sure enough it was, for when I asked her if she would go hum with me, she said: “‘No; you needn’t trouble yourself nothin’ ’tall ’bout it.’