Jimmy looked the barrel over critically and then regarded the peeved proprietor, shaking his head sorrowfully. "This here is a better medjum for the ex-position of my art," he replied gravely. "An' as for bringin' up, lemme observe to these gents here assembled that you ain't never had no artistic trainin'. Yore skimpy soul is dwarfed an' narrowed by false weights and dented measures. You can look a sunset in th' face an' not see it for countin' yore profits." Carter glanced instinctively at the figures as Jimmy continued. "An' you can't see no beauty in a daisy's grace—which last is from a book. I 'm here carvin' th' very image of my cayuse an' givin' you a work of art, free an' gratis. I 'm timid an' sensitive, I am; an' I 'll feel hurt if—"
"Stop that noise," snorted a man in the corner, turning over to try again. "Sensitive an' timid? Yes; as a mule! Shut up an' lemme get a little sleep."
"A-men," sighed a poker-player. "An' let him sleep—he 's a cussed nuisance when he 's awake."
