"PASTURES NEW" 127 



I tell you," addressing me now, "your brudder 

 here he nearly done me someding. I had here a 

 sick colt, und he given me a scription for him. I 

 tooken the scription to the druggist store und 

 dey told me dere vas enough arsenic in that 

 scription to kill all the horses in South Dakota. 

 Now, vat is dot for a business from a man vot 

 claims he is a vertnery? It vas nice yet of the 

 druggist store to told me in time." Here my 

 brother tried to explain to him that he had 

 merely prescribed tablespoonful doses of Fow- 

 ler's solution of arsenic, which would give the 

 colt not quite three grains at a dose, and as the 

 colt was a big, husky three-year-old, the dose 

 was more than safe. 



"Veil," the old fellow says, "maybe you 

 vanted to make it like dat ; but the vay the feller 

 in the druggist store told me if I give one dose 

 my colt is a gone goose. No, no, ve can't do 

 such tings." 



I took him in hand then and knocked the drug- 

 gist into a cocked hat by telling him a few of my 

 own experiences. When I got through talking 

 to him he felt like killing the fatted calf for us 

 and he wanted to know whether I was prepared 

 to do some work. Well, I told him, of course, I 

 was only out here on a vacation and so on, but if 

 he had some work he wanted done up in first- 

 class shape, why, I could change my program. 



"All right," he says, "come in the barn; I 

 show you someding right avay." 



We left him after a couple of hours with a 

 nice roll of his coin in our pockets. I charged 



