“Yes,” he said; and did not ask what they were.

So I had to tell him. “It has made successful politcians of the Irish. That’s one. And it has given our whole race the habit of poker.” Bang went his Winchester. The bullet struck close to my left. I sat up angrily.

“That’s the first foolish thing I ever saw you do! I said.

“Yes,” he drawled slowly, “I’d ought to have done it sooner. He was pretty near lively again.” And then he picked up a rattlesnake six feet behind me. It had been numbed by the hail, part revived by the sun, and he had shot its head off.


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