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Bierce, Ambrose, 1842-1914?

"Cobwebs from an Empty Skull"

'Tain't no use a-hurryin' up the cattle; yer mustn't rush the
buck. Jest wait till some feller comes along with a melted rainbow,
and lays on the war-paint! and another feller fetches the swans' eggs,
and sets on 'em, and hatches 'em out!--and me a-holding both bowers
an' the ace!" he added, regretfully, thinking of the certainty he had
left, to follow a delusive hope.
Then I pointed out to them a wide margin of wet and steaming clay
surrounding the water on all sides, asking them if _that_ wasn't worth
coming to see.
"_That_!" exclaimed Gus. "I've seen the same thing a thousand million
times! It's the reg'lar thing in Idaho. Clay soaks up the water and
sweats it out."
To verify his theory he started away, down to the shore. I was
concerned for Gus, but I did not dare call him back for fear of
betraying my secret in some way. Besides, I knew he would not come;
and he ought not to have been so sceptical, anyhow.
Just then two or three big bubbles rose to the surface, and silently
exploded. Quick as lightning I dropped on my knees and raised my arms.
"Now may Heaven grant my prayer," I began with awful solemnity, "and
send the great Ranunculus to loose the binding chain of concupiscence,
heaving the multitudinous aquacity upon the heads of this wicked and
sententious generation, whelming these diametrical scoffers in a
supercilious Constantinople!"
I knew the long words would impress their simple souls with a belief
that I was actually praying; and I was right, for every man of them
pulled his hat off, and stood staring at me with a mixed look of
reverence, incredulity, and astonishment--but not for long.


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