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“Even if I have lost the twang in my voice,” spoke up the southerner, a furnishing goods man.

“Oh, come off!”

“Lost it?” said the clothing man.

“Yes, I reckon I have. I’ve been up no’th long enough. Well, people down in my country are warm hearted and courteous, but all the goodness in the world doesn’t dwell with them. I’ve found some pow’ful good people up no’th. Raisin’ has something to do with a man, but that isn’t all. We find good men whereveh we go, if we look fo’ them right. Your tellin’ about sendin’ flowe’s to that little girl reminds me of the time when I once sent some flowe’s, but instead of sending them to a girl, I sent them to a big crusty old man. This man was, to a great extent, an exception to the rule that I have just laid down. That is, he was cranky and ha’d to get next to for nearly ever’body, and sometimes he was pretty rough with me. But I handled him fairly well and always got business out of him, although sometimes I had to use a little jiu jitsu to do it.

“Several seasons ago–haven’t you heard this story, boys?–I was on my way up to his town, Deadwood. While I was down at Broken Bow, I got a telegram from the house which read, “Sam Shoup dead”–that was one line–and on the next line the message read: “Wood wants goods.”

“I thought this was rather funny when I got hold of the message for I hadn’t sold this man Wood for several seasons. He had been a little slow and the house had drawn on him, and I lost him. But I thought maybe things were all patched up again and so I hur’ied on up into the Hills and over to Hot Springs to see Wood. He handled lots of goods and I wanted to get there before somebody else nipped him. Besides, I could double back and catch Chadron and those towns along there on my return.

“I was ve’y sor’y to heah that my friend Sam had croaked. You know, after a man has turned up his toes you can see a whole lot of good points about him that always escaped yo’ notice befo’; so at Broken Bow I wiahed the flo’ist up in Deadwood to send ten dollars worth of roses with my card on over to Mrs. Shoup, that I would see him in a few days and pay him fo’ them. I also sent a telegram to the widow, extending my heartfelt sympathy.

“Well, sir, when I got into the Springs I had my trunk brought right up, opened my samples, befo’ I went over to see my friend Wood. When I went into his sto’ he said to me, ‘Well, Mark, what are you doing here?’ ‘What am I doing heah,’ said I, ‘Why, the house telegraphed me you wanted some goods.’ ‘Why, I wouldn’t buy any goods from yo’ house if I were a millionaire and could get them for ten cents on the dollar. They turned me down once good and ha’d and that’s enough fo’ me. Where’s the telegram? I think you’re stringin’ me.’

“‘No; nothing of the kind,’ said I, and I handed him the telegram. Laugh? I never heard a fellow laugh like he did in my life.

“‘Why, can’t you read?’

“‘Sure! This telegram reads: “Sam Shoup dead. Wood wants goods.”‘

“‘No,’ said Wood. ‘That telegram says that Sam Shoup, Deadwood, wants goods. That hasn’t anything to do with me.’ And do you know, boys, that’s the first time that I could understan’ that telegram?

“It was such a good joke, howeveh, that I did jolly Wood into giving me an o’deh. From the Springs I went right up to Deadwood. When I met Sam in his sto’ he said to me, ‘Vell, Mark, vat are you senting my vife vlowers for, and vat are you extenting your heartfelt sympat’y aboud?’