Argosy, Vol. 117, No. 2 — page 74: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

Willi am Merriam Rouse OGGIE BULL ate with a skilful use of his knife and as much speed as was consistent with the greatest plea- sure. His broad shoulders bent over the kitchen-table in the earnestness of his effort to enjoy to the utmost the salt pork and boiled potatoes, bread, and milk gravy, which his mother had offered him, steaming hot and savory. Next to hunting, Doggie preferred eating as an occupation. Mrs. Miranda Bull sat opposite her son and stirred her tea with the honest satis- faction of a woman who has done a week’s washing. She was a lean, bent figure, with the general look of seasoned oak: and she was as tough as oak, despite an accumula- tion of sixty-odd years. Her hands were as well acquainted with the hoe and the ax as they were with the wash-board and the dish-pan: that was why there had been new potatoes to cook and kindling to build the fire that cooked them. Doggie, who objected less to this soubri- quet than to his real name, Sidney, knew with supreme indifference that he owed the clean, stomach filling meal nine-tenths to the labor of his mother. She didnot work for other folks, which might have hurt his pride; but she tended the house and garden and stretched as far as possible what money filtered to her from trapping in winter and fishing in summer. According to such philosophy as Sidney Bull had formulated a man was as much of a man as he could prove himself in a fight —neither more nor less. Also he had a grievance against his mother; and she had one against him. “Guess I'll go get some squirrels this aiternoon,”’ announced Doggie, after he had looked around the table for pie and sniffed the air in a vain hope that he might catch an odor from the pantry. The face of his mother was habitually set with lines of disapproval but they deepened a trifle as she seized the teapot and poured herself another cup. ‘You might get a job if you was to look —they’re hiring men for the winter now.” “There you go again—every wash-day all I hear about is a job!” This was her grievance against him and he had heard about it for the past ten years—ever since the law had let him out of school. ‘“ Well!” snapped Mrs. Bull. “ Anyway, keep off the Gardners’ land. Folks say they’re “going to open their house for the fall hunting, and they’d as soon have a man arrested as not for trespassing. goodness, none of our folks was ever ar- rested!”’ rs ‘Don’t you worry about me!” Doggie, who had got up, tightened the belt about his lean waist with a swagger. “I ain’t been caught yet!” “And get\back for supper on time, if you're coming at all!’ she warned. “I can't abide having a meal of victuals kept waiting on the back of the stove!” Thank _ Up to this Sidney Bull had remained 224 CoOnmmicloool< (C@