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On A Donkey's Hurricane Deck Part 22

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"That's the name I always went by," said the black-eyed, black-hearted man. I did not like his looks; I felt it in my bones that Pod was going to be "done" by him. When a man or donkey is over anxious to acquire something, he is pretty sure to make a blunder.

On being catechised, the man said his business was "hoss tradin'

some, farmin' some, and various some."

"Hear you've got a donkey for sale," Pod observed.

"Nope," said K----, "but I've got two of 'em. Sell both er none."



"I was told you have tried to give them away," said Pod.

The "hoss trader" threw one leg over the other, spat tobacco juice in Don's eyes so he couldn't see all that might a-cur, raked timothy seed out of his whiskers, and inquired, "Who was tellin'

ye that?"

"The fellow didn't give his name," answered Pod, "and I wouldn't undertake to describe his physical geography, but I could locate him if I wished to."

"If I could lay my hands on him, I'd dislocate him," said K----, snapping his eyes.

When my master told about his travels, the Iowan became interested, and showed signs of weakening on his ultimatum.

Meanwhile, I discovered the subjects of the discussion grazing in a meadow, and brayed them a courteous "how to do," thus calling Pod's attention to them.

The hoss trader was sharp enough to see it, and his animal instinct told him that vanity was Pod's weak point; so he opened up with a little blarney.

"Now, Mr. Pod, I'm fair t' say I've sort o' takin' a likin' to ye, and I want to help ye along. I'll sell both my donkeys for ten dollars, er one for five and trade the other for one of your'n.

Jest let your partner here run across the field and drive 'em over. I want ye to see 'em."

c.o.o.nskin went, and K---- continued: "They're two as fine-lookin'

jennies as ye'll run across in many a day, both healthy and strong--not too young--not too old--often plow with 'em--kind and gentle--boy rides 'em everywhere--fast, too, but no danger runnin'

away. Why, they're twice the size o' your'n, and 'll carry double the load."

"I'm more than satisfied with my donkeys" (very flattering to Cheese and myself), Pod affirmed, "and only require one more. If I am suited with one of your donkeys, I am willing to pay five dollars for it, but I will not trade one of mine, nor will I purchase both of yours."

By this time the animals arrived. They were certainly big enough, and as for the danger of their running away, they didn't act as if they could run ten feet if charged with a thousand volts of electricity. The farmer said he was bound to make a satisfactory deal with Pod somehow, and that if he wasn't convinced by the time we reached his house that both animals weren't superior to either of his (an absurdity on the face of it), then he would consider some other proposition.

When we reached the house, Cheese and I were generously fed, and Pod and c.o.o.nskin invited into dinner. Then K---- chased his donks around the yard, and felt them all over, and finally hoodwinked my master to buy one, and trade the other for Cheese. I could have kicked the daylight out of that man.

When K---- was on his way to town with his five dollars, Pod came to the stable. My new companions were crabbed old spinsters, and raised some objections to going with me.

"Where are you bound?" one asked.

"San Francisco," said I, "but I don't know where that is any more than do you. Guess it's land's end." Then I told them how far I had come, and that Pod said only a few days before that the journey had only begun; also, that he expected we donks would fall off some before long, from which I inferred the fall would be gradual and the horrors of death prolonged.

It was enough to frighten the wits out of any old maid, and it took a pitchfork, two hoe-handles and a crowbar to get those donkeys out of the gate. Then one of them balked, kicked, threw c.o.o.nskin, broke her halter, and ran back into the yard. She could run after all.

That was enough for Pod. He rode me back into the yard, and told c.o.o.nskin to fetch Cheese out of the barn. And it didn't take him long to s.h.i.+ft the blanket from that gray spinster to my old chum.

"You just tell your dad when he returns," said Pod to K----'s son, "that I don't intend to put up with any such game. He grossly misrepresented that donkey; it would take a week to travel a mile with her. As I have paid him for the other one, she belongs to me and I shall push her along with the outfit. But this animal," and he pointed to Cheese, "is mine yet awhile. Good-bye."

"Do as you like," K----, Jr., replied. "I know nothin' 'bout yer agreement."

We covered the first mile in slow time. c.o.o.nskin's new steed was forever stopping, and straying out of the road to eat gra.s.s. The young man wore himself out keeping her moving by rapping her with the flat side of a hatchet. This big, brown jenny was made of the right stuff, but evidently lacked training and experience.

We were yet a half mile to Blairstown when a young woman and a child drove toward us with a skittish horse. It acted as though it had never seen a donkey. It p.r.i.c.ked up its ears, and snorted, and, so help me Balaam! in a jiffy that buggy was on its side, the girls on the ground, and the horse running to beat a cyclone.

Luckily, the girls escaped injury. My master was as frightened as he was chivalrous, and a.s.sisting the girls to their feet, invited them to ride us donkeys to town; which kind offer was respectfully declined.

On our arrival, Pod took us to a blacksmith's to have the new donkey's fore feet measured for a pair of shoes. The smith seemed to be much taken with me, and said I had the smallest feet of all the gentlemen donks he ever met. The remark so tickled my vanity that I nibbled at his coat tail, whereupon he turned to me and inquired, "What kind of a donkey are you? Chinese?"

"Not much," said I, indignantly, "My name is Irishy, and I always supposed I was a thoroughbred Irish a.s.s, but I'm beginning to believe I'm a roamin' donkey, after all."

I could see that Pod expected trouble from some quarter, but none of us knew just where the lightning would strike. The next village, Luzerne, lay fifteen miles to the west. My lady companion did not carry herself too gracefully, nor her rider, either. She was broad and flat across the hips, and, as c.o.o.nskin did not possess a saddle, he found it more comfortable to sit far back on her where he could get a good swing of the fence rail he subst.i.tuted for a whip.

We were ambling peacefully along the dusty road late in the afternoon, when Pod broke the silence with a word to his valet.

"Well, c.o.o.nskin," said he, "what 're you going to call your donkey?"

"Damfino," said c.o.o.nskin; and he added, with a drawl, "Git ap."

"You ought to have found a suitable name by this time."

"I HAVE named her," emphasized the young man.

"Good!" shouted the Professor. "Let's have it then."

"Damfino," yelled c.o.o.nskin, with a wild swing of the fence rail.

Pod's face turned on its axis with a puzzled expression, as his eyes regarded the hopeful pioneer. Said he, "See here, young man, I know not whether my ears deceive me, or you are not up on my dialect; you say you have named the donkey, yet, when I ask the name, your answer implies a contradiction. Again, what is her name?"

c.o.o.nskin drew a long breath, and said loud enough to be heard a mile away, "Damfino."

As the fellow uttered the word, I dropped to the joke and, stopping in the road, brayed till my sides ached.

A new light now came into the Professor's eyes, and he smiled.

"Damfino, then, is the lady's angelic name," said he resignedly.

"It's odd, it's not inappropriate. Let it stand."

"Very well," returned c.o.o.nskin, "I will proceed with the ceremony." And letting the fence rail fall on his steed's rear quarter, he added, "In the name of the great and only Balaam, I christen thee Damfino." It was an interesting event. Thenceforth Cheese and I resolved to be more choice in our language and decorous in our manners in Miss Damfino's presence; and we lived up to our pledge two hours before Cheese called Don and the bull-terrier bad names for accidentally upsetting Miss Damfino with their yoke, and I kicked the tired and panting mongrel in the neighborhood of its pants.

CHAPTER XXVI.

BY PYE POD.

Thou hast described A hot friend cooling.

--_Julius Caesar._

It was nine o'clock in the evening. While we were chatting with the landlord of the only tavern in Luzerne, a portly, smooth-looking individual entered the room. He was clad in a great fur ulster and top boots. After a familiar "h.e.l.lo" to the landlord, he eyed me searchingly, and added, "Your name is Pod, ain't it?"

I said, "I believe so; yours is what, don't it?"

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On A Donkey's Hurricane Deck Part 22 summary

You're reading On A Donkey's Hurricane Deck. This manga has been translated by Updating. Author(s): R. Pitcher Woodward. Already has 584 views.

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