can run a forty shot,
'n' he don't go no further 'n I can throw a piano!

"After I've worked both dogs on the dingus fur a week or so, I tells
Banks they know the game--'n' believe me, they did! Why, them ole
hounds got so they begins to prance when they see the machine. They'd
lay down 'n' ramble till they dropped if I lets 'em. They liked it
fine!

"'I'll send Pixley around to-morrow,' says Banks. 'I want you to teach
her the jockey's crouch when she's on her horse.'

"Next mawnin' I'm oilin' up the dingus when a chicken pokes her little
head out the back door of the livery-stable.

"'Hello, kid,' she says to me.

"'Hello, girlie,' I says back.

"'_Miss Pixley_, if you _please_,' she says.

"'All right,' I says. ''N' while we're at it Mr. Jones'll suit me.'

"'Fade away,' she says, 'n' I see she's got a couple of dimples. 'Mr.
Jones don't suit you.'

"'Make it Blister, then,' I says.

"'You're on,' she says. 'And you can stick to girlie.'

"Say, she was a great little dame; she makes a hit with me the first
dash out of the box. When it comes to ridin' she's game as a wasp.
She has on a long coat, 'n' I don't see what's underneath.

"'Banks tells me you ride like a jock in the show,' I says. 'You can't
cut the mustard with that rig on.'

"'Sure not, Simple Simon!' she says. 'Do you think this grows on me?'
She sheds the coat, 'n' I see she's got on leggins 'n' a pair of puffy
pants.

"I throws her on to Salvini 'n' he begins to prance around, me holdin'
him by the head.

"'Whoa, you big bum!' I says to him.

"'Quit knocking my horse,' she says. 'Let go of him and see if I care.'

"I turns him loose 'n' she lets him jump a few times 'n' then rides him
on to the machine. I see she knows her business so I stands beside her
'n' makes her sit him like she ought. It don't take her no time to get
wise. Pretty soon she's clear over with a hand on each side of his
withers, 'n' him goin' like a stake hoss.

"'That's the dope!' I hollers. I has to yell 'cause the ole hound is
makin' a fierce racket on the machine.

"'I feel like a monkey on a stick,' she hollers back, but she don't
look like one. Her hair's shook loose, her eyes is shinin', 'n' them
dimples of her's is the life of the party.

"'So long, professor,' she says to me when she's goin'. 'Much obliged
for the lesson. Our act will be a scream.'

"Not long after that they moves the dingus over to the theater, 'n'
Banks tells