faces an' looks. And curtains--my missis got hers all packed. Curtains
are like clothes--they only fit them that owns them."

"And the piano?"

"Sure thing. Say, a piano in that country is like the village pump--the
hull country gets about it. Take things to eat an' things to wear an'
things to make the shack look pretty an' interestin' and comfortable.
They don't take much room and they take the bareness off. That's what
kills the women folk in the West, the bareness inside and outside.
Nothin' but chairs, table an' stove inside; nothin' but grass an' sand
outside. That's what makes 'em go crazy."

So the car was filled with things to eat and to wear, and things "to
take the bareness off." Somewhere in the car was found a place for
Rosie, the cow, a remarkable milker and "worth her weight in butter," as
Mr. Sleighter said, and for Rover, Larry's collie dog, who stood to him
as comrade almost as a brother. A place in the car too was found for
Joe Gagneau who from the first moment of the announced departure had
expressed his determination to accompany Larry no matter at what cost or
against whose opposition.

"A'm goin' be in dat car' me, by gar!" was his ultimatum, and the
various authorities interested recognised the inevitable and accepted
it, to the great delight of both boys. Joe had a mouth organ and so had
Larry, and they were both in the same key. Joe too had an old fiddle of
his father's on which he could scrape with joy to himself, and with more
or less agony to others, the dance tunes of local celebrity, the "Red
River Jig," picked up from his father, "Money Musk" and "The Deil Amang
the Tailors," the two latter from Dan Monroe at the country dances.