looks. An Osage buck, paintin' for a dance, wouldn't worry more over
his feachers, an' the way the ocher should be streaked on.

"Now this yere Cape is shy an eye, where an Apache pokes it out with
a lance, back in Cochise's time; an', as he regyards his countenance
as seemin' over rocky, bein' redooced to one eye as I relates, he
sends East an' gets a glass eye. This ain't where Cape's
technical'ties about his looks trails in, however; an', if he had
paused thar in his rehabilitations, Boggs allers put it up he'd a-
found no fault. But Cape notices that about tenth drink time his
shore-enough eye begins for to show up bloodshot, an' is a bad mate
for the glass eye, the same bein' onaffected by drink. So what does
Cape do but have a bloodshot eye made, an' takes to packin' the same
on his person constant. As Cape drinks his forty drops all
commodious, he sort o' keeps tabs on himse'f in the lookin' glass
back of the bar; an' when the good eye commences to turn red with
them libations he's countin' into the corral, he ups an' shifts his
bresh; digs out the white eye an' plants the drunken eye in the
place.

"Shore! none of us cares except Dan Boggs; but Dan feels it to that
extent, it's all Colonel Sterett an' Doc Peets an' Old Man Enright
can do, added to Dan's bein' by nacher a born gent that a-way, to
keep Dan from mentionin' it to old Cape.

"'A gent who comes from a good fam'ly, like you-all,' says Old Man
Enright to Dan, sort o' soothin' of him, 'oughter be removed above
makin' comments on pore old Cape shiftin' his optics. Troo! it's a
weakness, but where is the sport who hasn't weaknesses likewise.
Which you-all is a mighty sight to one side of bein' perfect