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Happy Hawkins
Robert Alexander Wason

Page 569 of 569


Me an' the preachers lock horns purty often; but they're all right,
most of 'em, when you treat 'em like humans an' make 'em play fair.
One of 'em happened out here on a visit, to sort o' rest up, an' he
called me some kind of a Persian name an' read me a little book
called The Other Wise Man.  I reckon I know that book, all except the
big names, by heart; an' if one of my stars would ever cut out o'
the herd an' go off, slow an' stately on a new trail, why I'd foller
that star--God knows I'd foller; an'--I wouldn't let on to no one
else except you--but, way down, deep in my heart, I'm hopin' that
sometime I'll get the chance. 

End Project Gutenberg Etext of Happy Hawkins, by Robert Alexander Wason 


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