th' matter with th' hind wheel. And jest as Wash an' me drove up,
th' boss of th' outfit was a tellin' 'em t' cut a big pole for a
pry t' lift th' hind ex, so's they could block it up, an' fix th'
wheel.

"Wash he looked at 'em a minute an' then says, says he, 'Hold on,
boys; you don't need ary pole.'

" 'What do you know 'bout an engine, you darned hill billy,' says
th' old man, kind o' short.

" 'Don't know nothin' 'bout an engine, you prairie hopper,' says
Wash, 'but I know you don't need no pole t' lift that thing.'

" 'How'd you lift it then?' says t'other.

" 'Why I'd jest catch holt an' lift,' says Wash.

"The gang like t' bust themselves laughin'. 'Why you blame fool,'
says the boas; 'do you know what that engine'll weigh?"

" 'Don't care a cuss WHAT she'll weigh,' says Wash. 'She ain't
PLANTED there, is she?' An' with that he climbs down from th'
wagon, an' dad burn me if he didn't take holt o' that hind ex an'
lift one whole side o' that there engine clean off th' ground.
Them fellers jest stood 'round an' looked at him t' beat th' stir.
'Well,' says Wash, still a keepin' his holt; slide a block under
her an' I'll mosey along!

"That boss didn't say a word 'till he'd got a bottle from a box on