,
and just stood rooted while a guy selling gold watches reads my name
graved on the saddle, and then addresses me as _Mister_ Smith. Old
Pieface, scared for my morals, did kick this person sudden and severe,
but all the same that _Mister_ went to my head.

The smell of indoors made my stomach flop right over while we ranged up
brave at the bar for a first drink. The raw rye felt like flames, though
the preserved cherry afloat in it tasted familiar, like soap. At the
same time the sight of a gambling lay-out made my pocket twitch, and I'd
an inward conviction telling me this place ain't good for kids. It's the
foreman sent me off with a message.

I rolled my tail, and curved off with Tiger to take in the sights of the
town. He shied heaps, and it's curious to think why he objected to
sign-boards, awnings, lamp-posts, even to a harmless person lying drunk.
Then a railroad engine snorted in our face, so Tiger and me was plumb
stampeded up a little side street. It's thar that he bucks for all he's
worth, because of a kneeling man with a straw hat and a punctured soul,
praying abundant. Of course this penitent turned round to enjoy the
bucking match--and sure reveals the face of my ole friend, Bull Durham.
We hadn't met for years, so as soon as Tiger was tired, Bull owned to
finding the Lord, and being stony busted, ask if I was saved. I seen
he'd got 'em bad, and shared my wad of money level with him. So we had
cigars, a pound of chocolate creams, an oyster stew, and he bought a
bottle of patent medicine for his liver. We shared that, and went on, he
walking by my stirrup to the revival meeting.

This revival was happening at a barn, so I rode in. Tiger you see,
needed religion bad, and when people tried to turn him out, he kicked
them. You should just have heard what the preacher told the Lord about
me, and all the congregation groaned at me being so young and fair, with
silver harness, and the hottest prospects--just as Pieface always said
when I was late for breakfast.

They had a great big wooden cross upon the dais, and somehow, I dunno
why, that made me feel ashamed. A girl in a white dress was singing
_Rock of Ages_--oh, most beautiful, her arms thrown round the cross, the
sun-bright hair about her like a glory.

I could a' cried. Yes. For her great cat eyes were set on me, while her
voice went through an' through me, an'--sudden a dumb yearning happened
inside my belt. Seems that half-bottle of liver dope had