inger-beer or lemonade, and departed very promptly. For
as soon as Ephraim Gundry could give account of his disaster, it was
clear that Don Pedro owed his fate to a bottle of the Sawyer's whiskey.
Firm had only intended to give him a lesson for misbehavior, being fired
by his grandfather's words about swinging me on the saddle. This idea
had justly appeared to him to demand a protest; to deliver which he at
once set forth with a valuable cowhide whip. Coming thus to the Rovers'
camp, and finding their captain sitting in the shade to digest his
dinner, Firm laid hold of him by the neck, and gave way to feelings of
severity. Don Pedro regretted his misconduct, and being lifted up for
the moment above his ordinary view, perceived that he might have done
better, and shaped the pattern of his tongue to it. Firm, hearing this,
had good hopes of him; yet knowing how volatile repentance is, he strove
to form a well-marked track for it. And when the captain ceased to
receive cowhide, he must have had it long enough to miss it.

Now this might have ended honorably and amicably for all concerned, if
the captain had known when he was well off. Unluckily he had purloined
a bottle of Mr. Gundry's whiskey, and he drew the cork now to rub his
stripes, and the smell of it moved him to try it inside. And before very
long his ideas of honor, which he had sense enough to drop when sober,
began to come into his eyes again, and to stir him up to mischief. Hence
it was that he followed Firm, who was riding home well satisfied, and
appeased his honor by shooting in cold blood, and justice by being shot
anyhow.

It was beautiful, through all this trying time, to watch Uncle Sam's
proceedings: he appeared so delightfully calm and almost careless
whenever he was looked at. And then he was ashamed of himself
perpetually, if any one went on with it. Nobody tried to observe him, of
course, or remark upon any of his doings, and for this he would become
so grateful that he would long to tell all his thoughts, and then stop.
This must have been a great worry to him, seeing how open his manner
was; and whenever he wanted to hide any thing, he informed us of that
intention. So that we exhorted Firm every day to come round and restore
us to our usual state. This was the poor fellow's special desire;
and often he was angry with himself, and made himself worse again by
declaring that he must be a milksop to lie there so long. Whereas, it
was much more near