And
I do believe she GREASES it to make it shine the way it does! And the powder
she piles on her face--just to ride out on the mesa!" Rosemary Green was
naturally sweet-tempered and exceedingly charitable in her judgements; but
here, too, the cat-and-dog feud had its influence. Rosemary Green was a loyal
champion of the cat Compadre; besides, there was a succession of little
irritations, in the way of dishes left unwashed and inconspicuous corners left
unswept, to warp her opinion of Annie-Many-Ponies.
When he left Rosemary he went straight down to where the chuck-wagon stood,
and began to tap the tires with a small rock to see if they would need
resetting before he started out. He decided that the brake-blocks would have
to be replaced with new ones--or at least reshod with old boot-soles. The
tongue was cracked, too; that had been done last winter when Luck was
producing The Phantom Herd and had sent old Dave Wiswell down a rocky hillside
with half-broken bronks harnessed to the wagon, in a particularly dramatic
scene. Applehead went grumblingly in search of some baling wire to wrap the
tongue. He had been terribly excited and full of enthusiasm for the picture at
the time the tongue was cracked, but now he looked upon it merely as a vital
weakness in his roundup outfit.
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