"No, thar's nothin' the matter of me; sorter pensive, that's all,"
was my return.

The Old Cattleman appeared silent and out of sorts. Following the
coming of Black Jim, however, who brought a lusty toddy, he yielded
to a better mood.

"It simply means I'm gettin' old; my settin' 'round balky this a-
way. Thar's some seventy wrinkles on my horns; nothin' young or
recent about that. Which now it often happens to me, like it does to
old folks general, that jest when it begins to grow night, I gets
moody an' bad. Looks like my thoughts has been out on some mental
feed-ground all day, an' they comes stringin' in like cattle to get
bedded down for the night. Nacheral, I s'pose they sorter mills an'
stands 'round oneasy like for a while before they lies down all
comfortable. Old people partic'lar gets dissatisfied. If they's
single-footers like me an' ain't wedded none; campin' 'round at
taverns an' findin' of 'em mockeries; they wishes they has a wife a
whole lot. If they be, they wish she'd go visit her folks. Gettin'
old that a-way an' lonely makes folks frequent mighty contrary.

"No, as I imparts to you yeretofore,--mebby it's a month,--I never
marries nothin'. I reckons too, I'm in love one round-up an' another
mighty near a dozen times. But somehow I allers lose the trail an'
never does run up with none of 'em once.

"Down in the Brazos country thar was a little blue-eyed girl,--back
forty years it is,--an' the way I adores her plumb tires people. I
reckons I ropes at her more'n fifty times, but I never could fasten.
Thar comes a time when it looks powerful like I'm goin' to run my