“Lemme a-alone. I don’t want no man’s wife’s love--especially one what
hauls me home by the ankle. When I git married I want a clingin’
vine--not a pile driver.”
I never did have much sense. A feller in my condition ought to keep his
mouth shut and sneak away soft-like. I turns my head toward the door,
and just then the weight of the world hit me from behind, and it was a
lucky thing for that house that the door was open.
I landed on my hands and knees in the yard, with all the wind knocked
out of my system. Wick has got some rose-bushes in his yard. Like a
animal wounded unto death, I reckon I tried to crawl around on my hands
and knees to find a spot to die in.
All to once I sees one of them ---- sheep. It’s only a short distance
from me. I know if I move it’s going to hit me sure as ---- so I remains
still. I’ll bet that me and the sheep never moved a muscle for fifteen
minutes.
Then all at once the sheep spoke.
“For ----’s sake, if you’re goin’ to butt--butt and have it over with!”