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Marquis, Don, 1878-1937

"Danny's Own Story"

I had been with a railroad
show fur about two weeks, driving stakes and other
rough work, and it had went off and left me sleeping
on the ground. circuses never waits fur nothing
nor cares a dern fur no one. I tried all day
around town fur to get some kind of a job.
But I was looking purty rough and I couldn't
land nothing. Along in the afternoon I was awful
hungry.
I was feeling purty low down to have to ast fur
a meal, but finally I done it.
I dunno how I ever come to pick out such a swell-
looking house, but I makes a little talk at the back
door and the Irish girl she says, "Come in," and
into the kitchen I goes.
"It's Minnesota you're working toward?" asts
she, pouring me out a cup of coffee.
She is thinking of the wheat harvest where they
is thousands makes fur every fall. But none of
'em fur me. That there country is full of them
Scandiluvian Swedes and Norwegians, and they
gets into the field before daylight and stays there
so long the hired man's got to milk the cows by
moonlight.
"I been acrost the river into I'way," I says,
"a-working at my trade, and now I'm going back
to Chicago to work at it some more."
"What might your trade be?" she asts, sizing
me up careful; and I thinks I'll hand her one to
chew on she ain't never hearn tell of before.


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