Part 4 (1/2)

dignified as was possible-considerin' the fact that the crook was dancin' about like a spider on a hot skillet, and rubbin' the part which had got most intimate with the club.

Eugene had seen it all through his window, and when it was over, he came out and shook the Parson's hand, and said he was just the kind needed in such an unG.o.dly community, and that he reminded him for all the world of Friar Tuck in Robin Hood. Now, we hadn't none of us heard of Friar Tuck up to that time; but it was a name well fitted to the tongue, and from the way Eugene said it, we elected it was a compliment; so we gave it to the Singin' Parson on the spot, and it soaked into his bones, and he hasn't needed any other since.

This little incident kept us all in a good humor until three o'clock, which was the fatal hour for the squirrel-contest.

Then ol' man Dort marched to the center o' the street, carryin' his cage as though it was full o' diamonds; an' Ben Butler sat up an'

chattered as if he was darin' the whole race o' squirrels to bring forth his equal.

”I don't reckon a squirrel could get three times as big as him without explodin',” sez Spider Kelley, who also had his money on Eugene's squirrel.

”Here comes Eugene with Columbus,” sez I, not carin' to waste breath on an opinion I had backed up with good money.

Eugene came down the street carryin' one end of a box, with Doc Forbes carryin' the other. The box was covered with a clean ap.r.o.n, an' Eugene wasn't lookin' down in the mouth or discouraged.

”From the size o' that box, we're goin' to have a run for our money,”

sez Spider. ”If Columbus just looks good enough to make 'em settle by the scales, I haven't any kick comin'.”

Well, as Eugene drew closer, that crowd fell into a silence until all a body could hear was Ben Butler braggin' about all the nuts he had et, an' what a prodigious big squirrel he was; but Eugene never faltered. He walked up an' set his box down careful, motioned Doc over to the side lines, made a graceful motion to ol' man Dort, an' sez: ”As yours is the local champion you introduce him first, an' make your claim.”

Ol' man Dort removed his tobacco, wiped his forehead, an' sez: ”Feller citizens, I make the claim that Ben Butler is the biggest full-blooded squirrel ever sent to enlighten the solitude of lonely humanity. This is him.”

The ol' man looked lovin'ly down at his squirrel, an' we every one of us gave a rousin' cheer. It was all the family the ol' man had, an' it meant more to him 'n a body who hadn't never tried standin' his own company months at a time could realize. Ol' man Dort thrust some new tobacco into his face, bit his lips, winked his eyes rapid, an' bowed to us, almost overcome.

Then Eugene stepped a s.p.a.ce to the front, bowed to the crowd in several directions, an' sez: ”Gentlemen, an' feller citizens-From Iceland's icy mountains to India's coral strands an' Afric's sunny fountains, every nation an' every clime has produced some peculiar product o' nature which lifts it above an' sets it apart from all the other localities of the globe. When you speak of the succulent banana, the golden orange, or the p.r.i.c.kly pineapple, Nova Scotia remains silent; but when you speak of varmints, she rears up on her hind legs and with a glad shout of triumph, she hands forth the short-tailed grizzly ground-squirrel, an' sez, 'Give me the blue ribbons, the gold medals, an' the laurel crowns of victory.' I have the rare pleasure an' the distinctive honor of presenting to your notice Columbus, the hugest squirrel ever exhibited within the confines of captivity.”

We was so took by Eugene's eloquence that we hardly noticed him slip the ap.r.o.n from in front of his cage; but when we did look, we could hardly get our breath. I was standin' close to the Friar; and at first he looked puzzled, and then his face lit up with a regular boy's grin; but he didn't say a word.

Columbus was certainly a giant; he stood full two feet tall as he sat up an' scrutinized around with a bossy sort of grin. He was dappled fawn color on the sides with a curly black streak down the back an'

sort o' chestnut-red below, with a short tail an' teeth like chisels.

He won so blame easy that even us what had bet on him didn't cheer.

Ol' man Dort give a grin, thinkin' Ben Butler must have won, an' then he stepped around an' looked into Eugene's cage. He looked first at Columbus, an' then at Ben Butler, then he looked again. ”That d.a.m.ned thing ain't alive,” he sez. ”It's made up out o' wool yarn. Poke it up an' let me see it move.”

”Poke it yourself,” sez Eugene. He was one o' these cold-blooded gamblers who ain't got one speck o' decent sentimentality; an' he was mad 'cause we hadn't cheered.

Ol' man Dort took a stick an' poked Columbus, an' Columbus give a threatenin' grin, chattered savage, an' bit the stick in two. ”Give him the money, Ike,” sez ol' man Dort. ”I own up I never was in Nova Scotia, an' I never supposed that such squirrels as this grew on the face o' the whole earth. What'll you take for him?” he sez to Eugene.

”It ain't your fault that you didn't know about him,” sez Eugene, thawin' a little humanity into himself. ”I don't want to rub it in on n.o.body; and I'll give you this here squirrel free gratis, 'cause I admit that you know more about squirrels 'n anybody else what ever I met; an' you have the biggest red squirrel the' is in the world.”

Then we did give Eugene a cheer, an' everything loosened up, an' we all crowded into Ike Spargle's so that them what won could spend a little money on them what lost.

After a time, ol' man Dort got up on a chair, an' sez: ”I want you fellers to know that Columbus won't never be my pet. Ben Butler has been the squarest squirrel ever was, an' he continues to remain my pet; but I'll study feedin' this condemned foreign squirrel, an' give him a fair show; so that if any outsiders come around makin' brags, we will have a home squirrel to enter again' 'em an' get their money.”

Eugene led the cheerin' this time, which made Eugene solider than ever with the boys, an' when Spider an' me got ready to ride home, he an'

ol' man Dort had their arms around each other tryin' to sing the Star Spangled Banner.

Spider talked about Columbus most o' the way home, but I was still.

The' was somethin' peculiar about the Friar's grin when he first sighted Columbus, and the' was somethin' familiar about that squirrel, an' I was tryin' to adjust myself. Just as we swung to the west on the last turn, I sez to Spider: ”Spider, I don't know what I ought to do about this?”