"Look here, Abner," he solemnly began, "I don’t like ye to talk that way. It doesn’t do any good."
"But it does me a lot of good to blow off steam," Abner retorted.
"Yes, mebbe it does. But remember, there’s a great difference between blowin’ off steam and bustin’ ye’r biler, an’ that’s what you’re in danger of doin’."
"But de ye think I’m goin’ to put up with a hull bunch of rogues who are tryin’ to down me?"
"An’ ye’r helpin’ them with ye’r actions, ain’t ye?"
"What else am I to do? They’ll walk over me rough shod if I don’t put up a fight. If ye run away from a little snappin’ cur he’ll run after ye, an’ bite ye’r heels, an’ bark like mad. But turn around, face the critter, an’ give it a good kick, an’ then ye’ll see how it’ll scoot away with its tail between its legs."
"But suppose it isn’t a cur, Abner, but a big bulldog, what then?"
"Why, I’d use a stick, or mebbe somethin’ else."
"Yes, that’s jist it. You’d do somethin’ that ye’d regret all ye’re life. Now, look here. You’ve got to stop all this. What you need is a change of heart."
"Change of heart!" Abner repeated. "Good Lord, what de ye mean by that? Ye haven’t been attendin’ a revival meetin’, have ye, Zeb?"
"No, I haven’t, an’ don’t intend to. But common sense tells me that a man won’t accomplish much in this world when he is always rubbin’ people the wrong way. Even a cat won’t stand it fer long."
"The way I rubbed Rackshaw, Ikey Dimock an’ Joe Preston, eh?" Abner asked.
"That’s what I mean. It makes the sparks fly, an’ soon there’s a big fire which is hard to put out."
"Rub people the other way, fer instance, and see how it’ll work."
"Ho, ho," and Abner laughed outright. "Imagine me rubbin’ Ikey Dimock an’ Rackshaw, an’ pattin’ ’em on the back an’ callin’ ’em ’me dear friends.’ No, I guess I’m too old a bird fer that. Never had the trainin’, ye see. Anyway, it’s no use now; it’s too late. Everybody’s dead set aginst me, an’ is tryin’ to do me."
"Everybody is not, Abner. I’m not, anyway, or else I wouldn’t have taken all the trouble to walk to town to git ye out of jail."
"Sure, sure, I know you’d stand by me, Zeb. But, say, how did ye do it?"
"Never mind where I got it. That’s my own business, so don’t say anythin’ more about it."