[Illustration: Music fragment: "'My days are as the grass, Or as--'"] he paused there, having his pipe well going. "Yes," said I, gulping down some unworthy emotions of my own; "yes, indeed." "Come down to see ef ye wouldn't like t' go up t' the Point with us, t' git a nail put in the hoss's shu-u?" "Oh, yes, thank you! by all means," I replied. "My woman heered--poo! poo!-- [Illustration: Music fragment: "'Or as the morn-ing flow'r,'] --she heered 't there was goin' to be a show up thar' to-night--some play-actor folks. 'Ten Nights in a Ba-ar Room'"--the captain took the pipe out of his mouth and yawned with affected unconcern. "I've heered o' worse names for a show; but ye know what women-folks is when there 's any play-actin' around. They're jest like sheep next to a turnip patch." "Are they?" "Oh, by clam! ye don't know nothin' 'bout female grass yit, major--nothin'. Bars can't shet 'em out." I followed his sad gaze to the west, and we sighed in unison. "By the way, how 's your show stock gittin' along, major?" "My show stock?" "Why, sartin; we thinks all the more on ye, ef that c'd be, for havin' some business. Ye see, the way my woman found it out, she runs over to Lunette's every mail day and helps her sort the mail, 'nd she said all the letters 't come directed to 'Mr. Paul Henry' had a mess o' wax run onto the fold of every envelope with a pictur' stamped inter it o' a couple o' the cur'osest-lookin' creeturs; said 'twas jest the head an' necks of 'em an' they looked to be retchin' up ter eat out o' the same soup plate; said 't must be your stock to the circus; for business folks often has their business picturs put on outside their envelopes, ye know, and jedgin' by the cur'osity of 'em, she thought they must be doin' pretty well by ye." "Oh, they are, captain," I sighed; "yes, they're doing pretty well by me." "Wal now, ef you've got a comf'tably good thing, major, be content with it; 'tain't easy to git onto a new job nowadays. Ain't there some pertick'lar spear o' grass ye'd like t' have set on the back seat with ye?" he continued cheerfully. "She rides easier for havin' consid'rable ballast, ye know." "I don't know of any. Mrs. Lester is away at her daughter-in-law's." "Hain't ye never thought--poo! poo! hohum!--wal, wal-- [Illustration: Music fragment: "'The blighting wind sweeps o'er, she--'] hain't ye never thought o' Miss Pray?" "In what way, captain?" "Wal, as a--poo! poo!-- [Illustration: Music fragment: "'She--'] as a pertick'lar spear, ye know?" "No."