"At least, I killed the biggest part of him--and that's his pride." Bill grunted, lay down again, and stared up at the wide-pronged sycamore leaves.

"Darn my oldest sister's cat's eyes if I ever seen anything like it!" he exploded suddenly, and closed his eyes in a vast content.
From the barbecue pits there came an appetizing odor of roasting beef; high-keyed voices flung good-humored taunts, and once they heard a great shout of laughter surge through the crowd gathered there.

From the great platform built under a group of live oaks near the patio they heard the resonant plunk-plunk-plunk of a harp making ready for the dance, and the shrill laughter of slim senoritas hovering there.

Down the slope before the three the shadows stretched longer and longer.

A violin twanged in the tuning, the harp-strings crooning the key.
"You fellows are going to dance, ain't yuh ?" Bill inquired lazily, when his cigar was half gone to ashes and smoke.