heap the best of this yere mane-chewin'; we-all so regards it, an'
so does he, an' he keeps his end up with great sperit an' voylence.

"These yore ink-riots don't go on more'n two months, however, when
Colonel Sterett decides that the o'casion calls for somethin' more
explicit. As he says, 'Patience ceases to be trumps,' an' so he
saddles up a whole lot an' rides over to Red Dog, personal. Colonel
Sterett don't impart them plans of his to no one; he simply descends
on his foe, sole an' alone, like that game an' chivalrous gent of
bell letters which he shorely is; an', son, Colonel Sterett makes a
example of that slander-mongerin' Red Dog editor.

"It's about the last drink time in the mornin', an' a passel of them
Red Dog sports is convened in front of the Tub of Blood s'loon, when
they-all hears a crash an' looks up, an' thar's their editor a-
soarin' out of his second-story window. Of course, in a second or
so, he hits the ground, an' them Red Dog folks goes over to get the
rights of this yere phenomenon. He ain't hurt so but what he gets up
an' limps 'round, an' he tells 'em it's the Wolfville editor does
it. Next time the Stingin' Lizard comes out, we reads about it:

"The gasconading reptile who is responsible for the slimy life of
that prurient sheet, the Coyote, paid us a sneaking visit Saturday.
If he had given us notice of his intentions, we would have prepared
ourselves and torn his leprous hide from his dehauched and whiskey-
poisoned frame, and polluted our fence with it, but he did not. True
to his low, currish nature, he crept upon us unawares. Our back was
toward him as he entered, perceiving which the cowardly poltroon
seized us and threw us through our own window. Having accomplished
his fiendish work, the miscreant left, justly fearing our wrath. The