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Billy Baxter's Letters, By William J. Kountz by William J. Kountz
page 6 of 40 (15%)
friend. I finally pulled myself together, and remembering the
ducks, I let her have both barrels at once. She kicked her feet
up in the air, turned her head, and on the level, she gave me
the laugh and cut into the woods. I believe she saw me all the
time, and knew I was a lobster.

On the way back, I met the half-breed, and we walked together.
On reaching the house we happened to glance through the window,
and there was Teddy with his arm around the young wife's waist.
Teddy always was a rubber. It was lovely cards for a while, and
Teddy worked the old gag that he was showing her how they did in
a play, but she wasn't wise enough to follow it up, so we had to
leave.

While returning on the train I made the horrible discovery that
I had been using my buckshot on the ducks and my birdshot on the
deer. I can see how the deer got away, but I'll say one thing,
and that is, that if a passing duck had ever reached his mitt out
for one of those buckshot he would have thought Rusie was doing
the pitching. He would have got it fine and daisy.

I am not for the country. They have ticks, jiggers, and gnats,
all doing a nice conservative business at once. You never had
a tick on you, did you, Jim? Well, a tick is a very busy little
cup of tea. First, he'll crawl all over you, and then select a
spot on the back directly between the shoulder blades, where you
can't reach him. I talked to a man who was up on ticks, and he
said a tick was wiser than a bedbug. Now, you take a bedbug whose
head is perfectly clear, and who hasn't been drinking or smoking
too much, and there won't be many men on Wall Street much wiser
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