Shore, it's speshul sickly when as many as seven quits out together! "'Bein' timid an' ignorant I takes good advice.

It's in the Oriental.
Thar's that old gray cimmaron hibernatin' about the bar whose name is Jeffords.
"'"Be you-all conversant with that gun you packs ?" asks Jeffords.
"'I feels the hot blush mountin' in my tender cheeks, but I concedes I ain't.

"Pard," I replies, "speakin' confidenshul an' between gent an' gent, this yere weepon is plumb novel to me." "'"Which I allows as much," he says, "from the egreegious way you fidges with it.

Now let me pass you-all a p'inter from the peaks of experience.

You caper back to the tavern an' take that weepon off.