by Don Marquis
CHAPTER III
Well, all the lammings Hank laid on never done me any good. It seemedlike I was jest natcherally cut out to have no success in life, and noamount of whaling could change it, though Hank, he was faithful. BeforeI was twelve years old the hull town had seen it, and they wasn'tnothing else expected of me except not to be any good.
That had its handy sides to it, too. They was lots of kids there thathad to go to school, but Hank, he never would of let me done that if Ihad ast him, and I never asted. And they was lots of kids considerablybothered all the time with their parents and relations. They made 'em goto Sunday School, and wash up reg'lar all over on Saturday nights, andput on shoes and stockings part of the time, even in the summer, andsome of 'em had to ast to go in swimming, and the hull thing wasa continuous trouble and privation to 'em. But they wasn't nothingperdicted of me, and I done like it was perdicted. Everybody 'lowedfrom the start that Hank would of made trash out'n me, even if I hadn'tshowed all the signs of being trash anyhow. And if they was devilmentanywhere about that town they all says, "Danny, he done it." And like asnot I has. So I gets to be what you might call an outcast. All the kidswhose folks ain't trash, their mothers tells 'em not to run with me nomore. Which they done it all the more fur that reason, on the sly, andit makes me more important with them.
But when I gets a little bigger, all that makes me feel kind o' badsometimes. It ain't so handy then. Fur folks gets to saying, when Iwould come around:
"Danny, what do YOU want?"
And if I says, "Nothing," they would say:
"Well, then, you get out o' here!"
Which they needn't of been suspicioning nothing like they pertended theydid, fur I never stole nothing more'n worter millions and mush millionsand such truck, and mebby now and then a chicken us kids use to roast inthe woods on Sundays, and jest as like as not it was one of Hank's hensthen, which I figgered I'd earnt it.
Fur Hank, he had streaks when he'd work me considerable hard. He nevergive me any money fur it. He loafed a lot too, and when he'd loaf I'dloaf. But I did pick up right smart of handiness with tools around thatthere shop of his'n, and if he'd ever of used me right I might of turnedinto a purty fair blacksmith. But it wasn't no use trying to work furHank. When I was about fifteen, times is right bad around the house fura spell, and Elmira is working purty hard, and I thinks to myself:
"Well, these folks has kind o' brung you up, and you ain't never donemore'n Hank made you do. Mebby you orter stick to work a little morewhen they's a job in the shop, even if Hank don't."
Which I tried it fur about two or three years, doing as much work aroundthe shop as Hank done and mebby more. But it wasn't no use. One daywhen I'm about eighteen, I seen awful plain I'll have to light out fromthere. They was a circus come to town that day. I says to Hank:
"Hank, they is a circus this afternoon and agin to-night."
"So I has hearn," says Hank.
"Are you going to it?" says I.
"I mout," says Hank, "and then agin I moutn't. I don't see as it's noconsarns of yourn, nohow." I knowed he was going, though. Hank, he nevermissed a circus.
"Well," I says, "they wasn't no harm to ast, was they?"
"Well, you've asted, ain't you?" says Hank.
"Well, then," says I, "I'd like to go to that there circus myself."
"They ain't no use in me saying fur you not to go," says Hank, "fur youwould go anyhow. You always does go off when you is needed."
"But I ain't got no money," I says, "and I was going to ast you couldyou spare me half a dollar?"
"Great Jehosephat!" says Hank, "but ain't you getting stuck up! What'sthe matter of you crawling in under the tent like you always done? Firstthing I know you'll be wanting a pair of these here yaller shoes and astove-pipe hat."
"No," says I, "I ain't no dude, Hank, and you know it. But they isalways things about a circus to spend money on besides jest the circusherself. They is the side show, fur instance, and they is the grandconcert afterward. I calkelated I'd take 'em all in this year--the hulldern thing, jest fur oncet."
Hank, he looks at me like I'd asted fur a house 'n' lot, or a milliondollars, or something like that. But he don't say nothing. He jestsnorts.
"Hank," I says, "I been doing right smart work around the shop fur two,three years now. If you wasn't loafing so much you'd a noticed it more.And I ain't never ast fur a cent of pay fur it, nor--"
"You ain't wuth no pay," says Hank. "You ain't wuth nothing but to eatvittles and wear out clothes."
"Well," I says, "I figger I earn my vittles and a good 'eal more. And asfur as clothes goes, I never had none but what Elmira made out'n yourn."
"Who brung you up?" asts Hank.
"You done it," says I, "and by your own say-so you done a dern poor jobat it."
"You go to that there circus," says Hank, a-flaring up, "and I'lllambaste you up to a inch of your life. So fur as handing out money furyou to sling it to the dogs, I ain't no bank, and if I was I ain't noijut. But you jest let me hear of you even going nigh that circus lotand all the lammings you has ever got, rolled into one, won't bea measly little sarcumstance to what you WILL get. They ain't noleather-faced young upstart with weepin'-willow hair going to throw upto me how I brung him up. That's gratitood fur you, that is!" says Hank."If it hadn't of been fur me giving you a home when I found you first,where would you of been now?"
"Well," I says, "I might of been a good 'eal better off. If you hadn'tof took me in the Alexanderses would of, and then I wouldn't of beenkep' out of school and growed up a ignoramus like you is."
"I never had no trouble keeping you away from school, I notice," saysHank, with a snort. "This is the first I ever hearn of you wanting to gothere."
Which was true in one way, and a lie in another. I hadn't never wantedto go till lately, but he'd of lammed me if I had of wanted to. Healways said he would. And now I was too big and knowed it.
Well, Hank, he never give me no money, so I watches my chancet thatafternoon and slips in under the tent the same as always. And I lays lowunder them green benches and wiggled through when I seen a good chancet.The first person I seen was Hank. Of course he seen me, and he shookhis fist at me in a promising kind of way, and they wasn't no troublefiggering out what he meant. Fur a while I didn't enjoy that circus tono extent. Fur I was thinking that if Hank tries to lick me fur it I'llfight him back this time, which I hadn't never fit him back much yet furfear he'd pick up something iron around the shop and jest natcherallylay me cold with it.
I got home before Hank did. It was nigh sundown, and I was waiting inthe door of the shop fur Elmira to holler vittles is ready, and Hankcome along. He didn't waste no time. He steps inside the shop and hetakes down a strap and he says:
"You come here and take off your shirt."
But I jest moves away. Hank, he runs in on me, and he swings his strap.I throwed up my arm, and it cut me acrost the knuckles. I run in on him,and he dropped the strap and fetched me an openhanded smack plumb on themouth that jarred my head back and like to of busted it loose. Then Igot right mad, and I run in on him agin, and this time I got to him, andwrastled with him.
Well, sir, I never was so surprised in all my life before. Fur I hadn'thad holt on him more'n a minute before I seen I'm stronger than Hankis. I throwed him, and he hit the ground with considerable of a jar, andthen I put my knee in the pit of his stomach and churned it a couple.And I thinks to myself what a fool I must of been fur better'n a year,because I might of done this any time. I got him by the ears and Islammed his head into the gravel a few times, him a-reaching fur mythroat, and a-pounding me with his fists, but me a-taking the licks andkeeping holt. And I had a mighty contented time fur a few minutes thereon top of Hank, chuckling to myself, and batting him one every now andthen fur luck, and trying to make him holler it's enough. But Hank isstubborn and he won't holler. And purty soon I thinks, what am I goingto do? Fur Hank will be so mad when I let him up he'll jest natcherallykill me, without I kill him. And I was scared, b
ecause I don't wantneither one of them things to happen. Whilst I was thinking it over,and getting scareder and scareder, and banging Hank's head harder andharder, some one grabs me from behind.
They was two of them, and one gets my collar and one gets the seat ofmy pants, and they drug me off'n him. Hank, he gets up, and then he setsdown sudden on a horse block and wipes his face on his sleeve, whichthey was considerable blood come onto the sleeve.
I looks around to see who has had holt of me, and it is two men. Oneof them looks about seven feet tall, on account of a big plug hat and along white linen duster, and has a beautiful red beard. In the roadthey is a big stout road wagon, with a canopy top over it, pulled by twohosses, and on the wagon box they is a strip of canvas. Which I couldn'tread then what was wrote on the canvas, but I learnt later it said, inbig print:
SIWASH INDIAN SAGRAW. NATURE'S UNIVERSAL MEDICINAL SPECIFIC. DISCOVEREDBY DR. HARTLEY L. KIRBY AMONG THE ABORIGINES OF OREGON.
On account of being so busy, neither Hank nor me had hearn the wagoncome along the road and stop. The big man in the plug hat, he says, orthey was words to that effect, jest as serious:
"Why are you mauling the aged gent?"
"Well," says I, "he needed it considerable."
"But," says he, still more solemn, "the good book says to honour thyfather and thy mother."
"Well," I says, "mebby it does and mebby it don't. But HE ain't myfather, nohow. And he ain't been getting no more'n his come-uppings."
"Vengeance is mine, saith the Lord," the big man remarks, very serious.Hank, he riz up then, and he says:
"Mister, be you a preacher? 'Cause if you be, the sooner you have druvon, the better fur ye. I got a grudge agin all preachers."
That feller, he jest looks Hank over ca'am and easy and slow before heanswers, and he wrinkles up his face like he never seen anything likeHank before. Then he fetches a kind o' aggervating smile, and he says:
"Beneath a shady chestnut tree The village blacksmith stands. The smith, a pleasant soul is he With warts upon his hands--"