Arizona weekly enterprise., 1888-06-09

t1-mightyP says; 'Haint none O the sex proof agin mer
 When the truth dropped on me were braidin' 0 snare to ketch some big trout l had seen in a brook nigh the cave. Havin' no string, l had chopped with my jack knife lock O hair offen my head to braid an twist inter piece long an strong enough to make the snare. The loose lock l had put in flat tin t'backer box th't ginerly carried by a buckskin string round my neck. sos I couldn't lose it. t'backer bein' sca'ce an high. The dis kivery O the painters hankerin' fer me knocked all hankerin' fer trout outen me, an limped away to think it over, leavin' the box whar it laid
 ' 'T'morrow night says I, lame ez be, I'll give the painter the slipP
 That night she showed by her nosin' at me, an her giner1 bearin', that she'd like to see me in her cave. I lit a big pine knot, carried it inside. and stood it in one corner. The torch was trife fickerin'. but it made the cave light all over. l sot down on a rock. Bimeby the painter went over to the pine knot an scratched an paved at the light till she put it all out but a little flicker at the top. Then she kinder edged to'ards me, bashful and shy. but booty soon plunked herself squar in my lap an laid her head on my shoulderi
 "'Gosh tlmightyp says l. if she haint gone an turned down the light an wants to set up an spark jest like real galP
 "I sprung right up an went out, not carin' durn w'ether hurt her feelins or not. Mex mornin', my leg bein' better. felt cheered up, an so says I'd hev that mess O trout fore Irun away fm the love sick paint'e anyhow, but l couldn't find my tbacker box an hair. The paint 'er d gone on her reglar mornin's mark etin', an' were 'spectin' her back ev'ry minute. Vile 1 were lookin' fer my tbacker box 1 see her comin' down the ridge. She were carryin' sumpin' in her mouth th't looked queer. were wonder in wit wat it could be, wen she bounced inter the openin' an laid her marketin' on the ground. l give one look at it an kim nigh jumpin' plumb outen my skin. fer thar laid little Dominic Ripper, havin' been lugged in by the paint'r fin some- wbar by the seat of his buckskin breechesi l Topped the Dominic over an soon fetched him to. helped him up on his feet, an he looked round with his eyes hangin' out like the big eend of banty hens egg. The painter kim up to me an put her paws on my chist, an she never looked so durn lovin' at me efore. Vile she were lookin' tn kim report like small clap O thunder, an my painter fell dead at my feet. Tho little Dominic stood on t'other side O her with pistol nigh foot long, an he had sent all tht it held clean through the paint CT s brain. looked down at her ez she lay thar dead, an sumpin shiny on her breast ketched my eye. stopped down Lay in plumb over her heart, an fasten' d round her neck by the buckskin string, were my tin t'backer box with th, lock O i ',.szzs Il. lsI
 Squire, that were tetchin' sight. an, b'gosh, had to blub5erl
 'I tol' the Dominic the story O the paint t'er's love, an' he tol ne how he'd been waylaid by her an yanked in aforc he could say boo
 But vat in under the blue cannerpy did she want to fetch you in forY says. Did she think had tooth fer Dominic an bucksl1in brooches?
 "'No. said the little Dominic Can't ye see? says he. Shed sot her heart ou havin you, says he, an fetched me in tc do the marvin. ez sure ez ny name is Dominic RipperY
 Squire"
 But the squire was moving toward tht door, and he went out without a word leaving the old settler to muse alone or the queer things nature used to do in tho olden time.-Ed Mott in Chicago Herald