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PAGE 9

The Bull Called Emily
by [?]

“Thus we continues on our way, me and Emily, in the midst of a vast but boisterous solitude,–for while we can’t see the inhabitants, we can hear ’em,–until we arrive at the foot of Main Street, and there we beholds the railroad freight-depot looming before us. I can tell that Emily is wishful to pass through this structure. There ain’t no opening on the nigh side of it, but that don’t hinder Emily none. She gives one heave with her shoulders and makes a door and passes on in and out again on the far side by the same methods. I arrives around the end of the shed just in time to see her slide down a steep grade through somebody’s truck-garden and sink down upon her heaving flank in a little hollow. As I halts upon the brow of the hill, she looks up at me very reproachful, and I can see that her prevalent complexion is beginning to turn awful wan and pale. Son, take it from me, when a full-grown she-bull gets wan, she’s probably the wannest thing there is in the world.

“‘Stand back, Scandalous,’ she moans to me in bull-language. ‘I don’t bear you no grudge,–it was a mistake in judgment on the part of all of us,–but stand back and give me room. Up till this time,’ she says, ‘I’ve been po’rly, but something seems to tell me that now I’m about to be what you might call real indisposed.’

“Which she certainly was.

“So, after a while, a part of the police force come along, stepping slow and cautious, and they halts themselves in the protecting shadows of the freight-shed or what’s left of it, and they beckon me to come near ’em, and when I responds, they tell me I’m under arrest for inciting riots and disturbances and desecration of property and various other crimes and misdemeanours. I suggests to ’em that if they’re really craving to arrest anybody, they should oughter begin with Emily, but they don’t fall in with the idea. They marches me up to the police-station, looking over their shoulders at frequent intervals to be sure the anguished Emily ain’t coming too, and when we get there, I find Windy in the act of being forcibly detained in the front office.

“Immediately after I arrived, the payoff started and continued unabated for quite a period of time. First we settled in full with the late proprietors of them defunct peanut-roasting machines; and then the owner of the wrecked fruitstore, and the man that owned the opera-house, and the stout lady who’d fainted from the waist up but was now entirely recovered, and the fleshy gent who’d climbed the telegraph-pole, and the railroad agent and some several hundred others who had claims for property damage or mental anguish or shockages to their nervous systems or shortage of breath or loss of trade or other injuries–all these were in line, waiting.

“We was reduced to a case ten-spot before the depot agent, who came last, lined up for his’n; but he took one good look and said he wouldn’t be a hog about it–we could keep that ten-specker, and he’d be satisfied just to take over our private car in consideration of the loss inflicted by Emily to his freight-shed. I was trying to tell him how much we appreciated his kindness, but the chief of police wouldn’t let me finish–said he couldn’t permit that kind of language to be used in a police-station, said it might corrupt the morals of some of his young policemen.

“So everything passed off very pleasant and satisfactory at the police-station, but Emily spent the evening and the ensuing night right where she was, voicing her regrets at frequent intervals. Along toward morning she felt easier, although sadly depleted in general appearance, and about daylight her and Windy bid me good-by and went off acrosst-country afoot, aiming to catch up with Ringbold Brothers’ circus, which was reported to be operating somewhere in that vicinity. As for me, I’d had enough for the time being of the refined amusement business. I took my half of that lone sawbuck which was all that was left to us from our frittered and dissipated fortunes, and I started east, travelling second class and living very frugally on the way. And that was about all that happened, worthy of note, with the exception of a violent personal dispute occurring between me and a train-butch coming out of Ashtabula.”

“What was the cause?” I asked as Scandalous stood up and smoothed down his waistcoat.

“I had just one thin dime left,” said Scandalous, “and I explained my predicament to the butch, saying as how I wanted what was the most filling thing he had for the price–and he offered me a sack of peanuts!”