“Do you mean all that?” she demanded of him.
“I certainly do. It is great, Miss Della. I admit that it is not quite like your other work; the treatment seems different, in places, and--er--stronger. It is the best picture of the kind that I have ever seen, I think. It holds one, in a way--”
“By golly, I bet Chip took a pitcher uh that!” exclaimed Slim, who had been doing some hard thinking. “He was tellin' us last winter about ridin' up on that ole Diamon' Bar cow with a pack uh wolves around her, an' her a-standin' 'em off, an' he shot two uh the wolves. Yes, sir; Chip jest about got a snap shot of 'em.”
“Well, doggone it! what if he did?” The Old Man turned jealously upon him. “It ain't everyone that kin paint like that, with nothin' but a little kodak picture t' go by. Doggone it! I don't care if Dell had a hull apurn full uh kodak pictures that Chip took--it's a rattlin' good piece uh work, all the same.”
“I ain't sayin' anything agin' the pitcher,” retorted Slim. “I was jest wonderin' how she happened t' git that cow down s' fine, brand 'n all, without some kind uh pattern t' go by. S' fur 's the pitcher goes, it's about as good 's kin be did with paint, I guess. I ain't ever seen anything in the pitcher line that looked any natcherler.”
“Well, I do think it's just splendid!” gurgled the Countess. “It's every bit as good 's the one Mary got with a year's subscription t' the Household Treasure fer fifty cents. That one's got some hounds chasin' a deer and a man hidin' in 'the bushes, sost yuh kin jest see his head. It's an awful purty pitcher, but this one's jest as good. I do b'lieve it's a little bit better, if anything. Mary's has got some awful nice, green grass, an' the sky's an awful purty blue--jest about the color uh my blue silk waist. But yuh can't expect t' have grass an' sky like that in the winter, an' this is more of a winter pitcher. It looks awful cold an' lonesome, somehow, an' it makes yuh want t' cry, if yuh look at it long enough.”
The critics stampeded, as they always did when the Countess began to talk.
“You better let Dunk take it with him, Dell,” was the parting advice of the Old Man.
“You don't mind, do you?” The Little Doctor was visibly uneasy.