The Green Forest tribune., 1911-03-17

ICSL< SnaIS outer olllce.
 And because the courthouse was al- most deserted at that hour, and be- cause Buck would sometimes relate to me things that were out of print, 1 followed him into talk through knoIl1edge of a weakness he had. For cigarettes rolled with sweet corn husk were as honey to Bucks palate; and though he could finger the trigger of a forty-five with skill and sudden ness, he never could learn to roll a cigarette.
 It was through no fault of mine (for l rolled the cigarettes tight and smooth), but the upshot of some whim of his own, that instead of to an Odyssey of the chaparral, listened to "a dissertation upon matrimony! This from Buck Caperton! But I maintain that the cigarettes were im- peccable; and crave absolution for myself.
 We just brought in Jim and Bud Cranberry" said Buck Train rob- ping, you know. Held up the Aran- sas Pass last month. We caught 'em in the Twenty Mile pear flat, south of the Neuces."
 Have much trouble corraling them?" I asked, for here was the meat that my hunger for epics craved.
 Some" said Buck; and then, dur ing little pause, his thoughts stam- peded off the trail Its kind of queer about women," he went on; "and the place they're supposed to occupy in botany. If I was asked to classify them I'd say they was hu- man loco weed. Ever see bronc that had been chewing loco? Ride him up to puddle of water two feet wide, and he'll give snort and fall back on you. It looks as big as the Mis- sissippi river to him. Next trip he'd walk into canyon thousand feet deep thinking it was a prairie dog hole. Same way with a married man.
 q was thinking of Perry Rountree, that used to be my sidekicker before he committed matrimony. In them days me and Perry hated indisturb- ances of any kind. We roamed around considerable, stirring up the echoes and making 'em attend to business. Why, when me and Perry wanted to have some fun in a town it was a picnic for the census takers They just counted the marshaps posse that it took to subdue us, and there was your population. But then there came along this Mariana Goodnight girl and looked at Perry sideways, and he was all bridle-wise and saddle broke before you could skin a year ling
 q wasn't even asked to the we'd ding. I reckon the bride had my pedigree and the front elevation of my habits all mapped out, and she de- cided that Perry would trot better in double harness without any uncon- verted mustang like Buck Caperton whickering around on the matrimonial range. So it was six months before I saw Perry again.
 One day l was passing on the edge of town, and I see something like man in a little yard by little house with sprinkling pot squirting water on rose bush. Seemed to me I'd seen something like it before, and stopped at the gate, trying to figure out its brands. Twas not Perry Rountree, but twas the kind of a curdled jellyfish matrimony had made out of him.
 Homicide was what that Mariana had perpetrated. He was looking we'll enough, but he had on a white collar and shoes and you could tell in min ute that he'd speak polite and pay taxes and stick his little finger out while drinking, just like sheep man or a citizen. Great skyrockets! but I habed to see Perry all corrupted and Willie-ized like that.
 "He came out to the gate, and shook hands; and I says, with scorn, and speaking like paroquet with the pip: Beg pardon-Mr Rountree, I believe. seems to me l sagatiated in your as- sociations once, if I am not mista- ken
 "'Oh, go to the devil, Buck says Perry polite, as 1 was afraid he'd be.
 "'Well, then says 1, you poor con- taminated adjunct of sprinkling pot and degraded household pet, what did you go and do it for? Look at you, all accent and unriotous, and only fit to sit on juries and mend the woodhouse door. You was man once. I have hostility for all such acts. Why don't you go in the house and count the tidies or set the clock, and not stand put here in the atmosphere? A jack rabbit might come along and bite you
 "'Now Buck says Perry, speaking mild, and some sorrowful, you don't understand. A married man has got to be different. He feels different from a tough old cloudburst like you. It's sinful to waste time pulling up towns just to look at their roots, and playing faro and looking upon red liquor, and such restless policies as them
 "'There was a time, I says, and I