things? Bill had the biggest feet in the township, but I'll bet my wallet
that he never trod on a violet in all his life. Bill never took no slack
from enny man that wuz sober, but the children made him play with 'em, and
he'd set for hours a-watchin' the yaller-hammer buildin' her nest in the
old cottonwood.

Now I ain't defendin' Bill; I'm jest tellin' the truth about him. Nothink
I kin say one way or t'other is goin' to make enny difference now; Bill's
dead 'nd buried, 'nd the folks is discussin' him 'nd wond'rin' whether his
immortal soul is all right. Sometimes I _hev_ worried 'bout Bill, but
I don't worry 'bout him no more. Uv course Bill had his faults,--I never
liked that drinkin' business uv his'n, yet I allow that Bill got more good
out'n likker, and likker got more good out'n Bill, than I ever see before
or sence. It warn't when the likker wuz in Bill that Bill wuz at his best,
but when he hed been on to one uv his bats 'nd had drunk himself sick 'nd
wuz comin' out uv the other end of the bat, then Bill wuz one uv the
meekest 'nd properest critters you ever seen. An' po'try? Some uv the most
beautiful po'try I ever read wuz writ by Bill when he wuz recoverin'
himself out'n one uv them bats. Seemed like it kind uv exalted an'
purified Bill's nachur to git drunk an' git over it. Bill c'u'd drink more
likker 'nd be sorrier for it than any other man in seven States. There
never wuz a more penitent feller than he wuz when he wuz soberin'. The
trubble with Bill seemed to be that his conscience didn't come on watch
quite of'n enuff.

It'll be ten years come nex' spring sence Bill showed up here. I don't
know whar he come from; seemed like he didn't want to talk about his past.
I allers suspicioned that he had seen trubble--maybe, sorrer. I reecollect
that one time he got a telegraph,--Mr. Ivins told me 'bout it
afterwards,--and when he read it he put his hands up to his face 'nd