needle across a hole in Otto's sock. "She's
not old, Jim, though I expect she seems old to
you. No, I wouldn't mourn if she never came
again. But, you see, a body never knows what
traits poverty might bring out in 'em. It
makes a woman grasping to see her children
want for things. Now read me a chapter in
'The Prince of the House of David.' Let's
forget the Bohemians."

We had three weeks of this mild, open
weather. The cattle in the corral ate corn
almost as fast as the men could shell it for
them, and we hoped they would be ready for
an early market. One morning the two big
bulls, Gladstone and Brigham Young, thought
spring had come, and they began to tease and
butt at each other across the barbed-wire that
separated them. Soon they got angry. They
bellowed and pawed up the soft earth with
their hoofs, rolling their eyes and tossing their
heads. Each withdrew to a far corner of his
own corral, and then they made for each
other at a gallop. Thud, thud, we could hear
the impact of their great heads, and their
bellowing shook the pans on the kitchen
shelves. Had they not been dehorned, they
would have torn each other to pieces. Pretty

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