Happy Hawkins

Robert Alexander Wason

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• Publié par: shiwyeng
• Publié le: 01 décembre 2010
• Nombre de lectures: 25
• Langue: English

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The Project Gutenberg EBook of Happy Hawkins, by Robert Alexander Wason This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.net Title: Happy Hawkins Author: Robert Alexander Wason Posting Date: May 13, 2009 [EBook #3705] Release Date: February, 2003 First Posted: July 29, 2001 Language: English Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 *** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK HAPPY HAWKINS *** Produced by Charles Franks and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team. HTML version by Al Haines. Happy Hawkins by Robert Alexander Wason TO MY OLD PAL CONTENTS I II III IV V VI VII VIII IX X XI XII THE DIAMOND DOT CONVINCING A COOK UNDER FIRE PROFESSIONAL DUTY JUST MONODY—A MAN THE RACE MENTAL TREATMENT FOR A BROKEN LEG THE LETTER ADRIFT AGAIN A WINTER AT SLOCUM'S LUCK DRESS REFORM AT THE DIAMOND DOT THE LASSOO DUEL XII XIII XIV XV XVI XVII XVIII XIX XX XXI XXII XXIII XXIV XXV XXVI XXVII XXVIII XXIX XXX THE LASSOO DUEL BUSINESS IS BUSINESS THE CHINESE QUESTION THE DIAMOND DOT AGAIN THE HIGHER EDUCATION OF WOMAN IN RETIREMENT CUPID BARBIE MAKES A DISCOVERY RICHARD WHITTINGTON ARRIVES HAPPY MAKES A DISCOVERY A FRIENDLY GAME CAST STEEL FEMININE LOGIC THE WAYS OF WOMANKIND A MODERN KNIGHT-ERRANT THE CREOLE BELLE THE DAY OF THE WEDDING THE FINAL RECKONING THE AFTERGLOW CHAPTER ONE THE DIAMOND DOT I wasn't really a Westerner an' that's why I'm so different from most of 'em. Take your regular bonie fide Westerner an' when he dies he don't turn to dust, he turns to alkali; but when it comes my turn to settle, I'll jest natchely become the good rich soil o' the Indiana cornbelt. I was born in Indiana and I never left it till after I was ten years old. That's about the time boys generally start out to hunt Injuns; but I kept on goin' till I found mine—but I didn't kill him—nor him me neither, as far as that goes. I allus did have the misfortune o' gettin' hungry at the most inconvenient times, an' after I 'd been gone about two weeks I got quite powerful hungry, so I natchely got a job waitin' on a lunch counter back in Omaha. The third day I was there I was all alone in the front room when in walked an Injun. He was about eight feet high, I reckon; and the fiercest Injun I ever see. I took one look at him a' then I dropped behind the counter and wiggled back to the kitchen where the boss was. I gasped out that the Injuns was upon us an' then I flew for my firearms. When the boss discovered that the Injun and fourteen doughnuts, almost new, had vanished, he was some put out, and after we had discussed the matter, I acted on his advice and came farther West. That business experience lasted me a good long while. I don't like business an' I don't blame any one who has to follow it for a livin' for wantin' to have a vacation so he can get out where the air is fit to breathe. Just imagine bein' hived up day after day with nothin' to see but walls an' nothin' to do but customers. You first got to be friendly with your visitors to make 'em feel at home, an' then you got to get as much of their money as you can in order to keep on bein' friendly with 'em in order to keep on gettin' as much of their money as you can. Now out in the open a feller don't have to be a hypocrite: once I worked a whole year for a man who hated me so he wouldn't speak to me; but I didn't care, I liked the work and I did it an' he raised my wages twice an' gave me a pony when I quit. He was the sourest tempered man I ever see; but it was good trainin' to live with him a spell. Lots of men has streaks of bein' unbearable; but this man was the only one I ever met up with who was solid that way, and didn't have one single streak of bein' likeable. He was the only man I ever see who wouldn't talk to me. I was a noticing sort of a kid an' I saw mighty early that what wins the hearts o' ninety-nine men out of a hundred is listenin' to 'em talk. That's why I don't talk much myself. But you couldn't listen to old Spike Williams, 'cause the' wasn't no opportunity—he didn't even cuss. We was snowed up for two weeks one time an' I took a vow 'at I'd make him talk. I tried every subject I'd ever heard of; but he didn't even grunt. Just when things was clearin' off, I sez to him, usin' my biggest trump: "Spike," sez I, "do you know what they say about you?" "No," sez he, "but you know what I say about them," an' he went on with his packin'. I thought for a while 'at the year I'd spent with Spike Williams was a total loss; but jest the contrary. It had kept me studyin' an' schemin' an' analysin' until, after that year had been stored away to season, I discovered it was the best year I'd ever put in, an' while I hadn't got overly well acquainted with Spike, I had become mighty friendly with myself and was surprised to find out how much the' was to me. Did you ever think of that? You start out an' a feller comes along an' throws an opinion around your off fore foot an' you go down in a heap an' that opinion holds you fast for some time. When you start on again another feller ropes you with a new opinion, an' the first thing you know you are all cluttered up an' loaded down with other fellers' opinions, an' the' ain't enough o' your own self left to tell what you're like; but after that winter with Spike I was pretty well able to dodge an opinion until I had time to learn what it meant. But the main good I got out of Spike was learnin' how to take old Cast Steel Judson. It was some years after this before I met up with him; but the good effect hadn't worn off and me an' Cast Steel just merged together like butter an'