ng to do anything,--give
the bride away, say grace, or carve the turkey. And what's more, I never
kissed a bride in my life that didn't have good luck. Tell your pa you
saw me. Good-by, dear."
On overtaking the ambulance in camp, our party included about twenty,
several of whom were young ladies; but Miss Jean insisted that every
one remain for breakfast, assuring them that she had abundance for
all. After the impromptu meal was disposed of, we bade our adieus and
separated to the four quarters. Before we had gone far, Uncle Lance
rode alongside of me and said: "Tom, why didn't you tell me you was a
fiddler? God knows you're lazy enough to be a good one, and you ought to
be good on a bee course. But what made me warm to you last night was the
way you built to Esther McLeod. Son, you set her cush about right. If
you can hold sight on a herd of beeves on a bad night like you did her,
you'll be a foreman some day. And she's not only good blood herself, but
she's got cattle and land. Old man Donald, her father, was killed in
the Confederate army. He was an honest Scotchman who kept Sunday and
everything else he could lay his hands on. In all my travels I never met
a man who could offer a longer prayer or take a bigger drink of whiskey.
I remember the first time I ever saw him. He was serving on the grand
jury, and I was a witness in a cattle-stealing case. He was a stranger
to me, and we had just sat down at the same table at a hotel for dinner.
We were on the point of helping ourselves, when the old Scot arose and
struck the table a blow that made the dishes rattle. 'You heathens,'
said he, 'will you partake of the bounty of your Heavenly Father without
returning thanks?' We laid down our knives and forks like boys caught in
a watermelon patch, and the old man asked a blessing. I've been at his
house often. He was a good man, but Secession caught him and he never
came back. So, Quirk, you see, a son-in-law will be a handy man in the
family, and with the start you made last night I hope for good results."
The other boys seemed to enjoy my embarrassment, but I said nothing in
reply, being a new man with the outfit. We reached the ranch an hour
before noon, two hours in advance of the ambulance; and the sleeping we
did until sunrise the next morning required no lullaby.
CHAPTER III
LAS PALOMAS
There is something about those large ranches of southern Texas that
reminds one of the old feudal system. The pathetic
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