Excerpt: '"If you'd 'a' cooked them two eggs at the same time, 'Magpie,' ?mine ?wouldn't 'a' rolled off on the floor and busted," says I, sad-like, ?looking at the remains. Magpie Simpkins rises his full height, which is some elevation, and glares at me. "Ike Harper," says he, "tend to your own cooking. A person what is as ungrateful as you are can't partake of my cooking, neither will I break bread with such as he." I got my boots on, cooks me some bacon, and eats as far from that hombre as the room allows. A house divided can't ring with harmony, and love has put a breach as wide as the Grand Cañon between me and Magpie. The little feller with the bow and arrer has rasped us raw. Magpie is the sheriff of our county, and I'm his deputy. Me and that scantling-shaped hombre have been pardners ever since gold was discovered on bedrock, and this is the first rift in our lute. Of course there has been discords, but this is the first time that the strings have all been busted!'
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