rance of which
actually makes me nervous, my last speculation in Texas ended. Going
over the whole matter with the captain that evening,--a process which
took us well into the night,--it was our united opinion that the
speculation was a failure. This conviction was mutual and profound. The
cow was not only gone, but she had shown such disinclination to be
domesticated, and such a misapprehension of the true purpose of life,
that the prospect was truly disheartening.

"'Why, damn it, colonel,' said the captain, 'we've no evidence that the
old cow wanted to be milked!'

"To this discouraging conclusion of the captain's I was compelled to
give a sorrowful assent. I recognized that my speculation was in
arrears, as it were, and that it would never figure up a profit.

"Therefore, next day I divided my few personal effects between the
captain and the noble men who had risked their lives for an idea; who
had seen the tragedy played out and the curtain rung down to my last
appearance, as it were. And, with the few dollars which alone remained
of the fortune which I took with me to Texas, I mounted my horse and
started northward, to join that noble army of martyrs, that brotherhood
of sufferers, that fraternity of the busted, whose members are legion,
and who are known as '_Ex-Texans_.'"

The hilarity of the camp that evening under the foot-hills will never be
forgotten by those of us who composed the happy number, and who
listened with streaming eyes and aching sides to the narrative of our
unfortunate guest. He told his story with a directness and simplicity of
narrative, with a gravity of countenance and plaintiveness of voice,
which heightened the humor of the substance. Never did the stars, which
have seen so much of human happiness, which have listened to so much of
the rollicking humor of those who were fashioned for laughter, looked
down upon a jollier camp. Long after our guest had ended his narrative
and was apparently sleeping in happy forgetfulness of his Texas
speculation, succeeding pauses of silence would come roars of laughter.
The remembrance of the humorous tale banished sleep, and, even after
slumber had fallen on us all, fun still held possession of our dreams.
For Dick, starting from sleep in a nightmare of hilarity, roared out:
"_Luff her up, luff her up, or the colonel is busted!_"

Ay, ay, thank God for laughter. Thank him heartily and ever, dear
friend, blow the winds, run the tides as they may. Th