"Well, you old fool, after this you can call in vain if anything happens
to you. I'll never bother with you."

"Oh, vell, ven I got a little excitement I got to yell about it, ain't
it?"

"Maybe you have - and after this you can, for all of me," and the
wrathful sheriff departed. He was new in the community or he would have
known that the plowing of Charlie Price and Lizzie was a regular event
of each season, for which an audience gathered to lay bets for and
against the probability of his dying of apoplexy before it was finished.

The plowing progressed in this manner:

Charlie put the point of the plow in the soft earth and roared at the
motor-power. Lizzie started off at a nimble lope. The plow cut a pretty
curve and flew out of the ground. Charlie reefed the reins at once,
completely turning off the power. Then he put the reins about his neck,
grasped the handles of the plow with both hands, and zoomed commands
again at the champing power. "Power" jumped ahead. The reins nearly
snapped old Charlie's head off, but effectually brought the mare to a
standstill.

"Vait, you dunder-undt-blitzen apful peelings! You - you think dot
plowing is not high-toned enough, yet - hey? Vell, I show you!"

He picked up a huge clod of soft dirt held it aloft in both hands and
banged it down on Lizzie's back - whereupon she promptly ran away! She
galloped furiously to the end of the field with the plow banging in