www.freeclassicebooks.com

For a moment he was entirely absorbed in the roasting fowl impaled upon a sharp

stick which he held in his right hand. Then he presently broke again into verse.

Around the world and back again; we saw it all. The mist and rain

In England and the hot old plain from Needles to Berdoo. We kept a-rambling

all the time. I rustled grub, he rustled rhyme-- Blind-baggage, hoof it, ride or

climb--we always put it through.

"You're a good sort," he broke off, suddenly. "There ain't many boes that would

have done as much for a fellow."

"It was two against one," replied Billy, "an' I don't like them odds. Besides I like

your poetry. Where d'ye get it--make it up?"

"Lord, no," laughed the other. "If I could do that I wouldn't be pan-handling. A

guy by the name of Henry Herbert Knibbs did them. Great, ain't they?"

They sure is. They get me right where I live," and then, after a pause; "sure you

got enough fer two, bo?"

"I have enough for you, old top," replied the host, "even if I only had half as much

as I have. Here, take first crack at the ambrosia. Sorry I have but a single cup;

but James has broken the others. James is very careless. Sometimes I almost feel

that I shall have to let him go."

Who's James?" asked Billy.

James? Oh, James is my man," replied the other.

Billy looked up at his companion quizzically, then he tasted the dark, thick

concoction in the tin can.

This is coffee," he announced. "I thought you said it was ambrose."

I only wished to see if you would recognize it, my friend," replied the poetical one

politely. "I am highly complimented that you can guess what it is from its taste."

For several minutes the two ate in silence, passing the tin can back and forth,

and slicing--hacking would be more nearly correct--pieces of meat from the half-

roasted fowl. It was Billy who broke the silence.

"I think," said he, "that you been stringin' me--'bout James and ambrose."

The other laughed good-naturedly.

163

The Mucker