Couldn’t speak of nothin’ smart—no one strong

or spry—

’Thout old Talleyrand B. Beals to grab right

in an’ lie!

All the thing he’d talk about was chap by name

of Jim,

Ev’ry story that he told was sort of hung round

him.

—Said the critter’d worked for him twenty

years before,

—Yarn at last it got to be the by-word down

t’ th’ store,

When we’d hear of biggish things, “That,”

we’d say, “I swan,

Beats tophet, taxes, time an’ tide an’ Bealses’

hired man.”

Beals, though, clacked right on an’ on; would

set an’ chaw an’ spit,

An’ tell us’bout that hired man—couldn’t make

him quit!

Champyun jump or heft or swim— ’twas all the

same to him,

He’d wait till all the rest had shot, then plug

the mark with Jim.

Had to laugh the other day—boys were down

t’ th’ store,

Talleyrand got started in—the dratted, deef

old bore!

Silas Erskine’s boy spoke up—that’s Ez; wal,

Ez says he,

“Say, Tal, what ever come o’ Jim?” Old

Beals uncrossed his knee,

Said he, “A master cur’us chap, that Jim was,

I must say,

—Seemed to like us fine as silk, but off he

went one day,

—Went right off without a yip—didn’t take his

clothes;

Hank’rin’ struck him all to once—couldn’t

wait, don’t s’pose.

Didn’t even take his pay, which was some sur-

prise,

—Prob’ly, though, a lord or dook, trav’lin’ in

disguise.”

Beals he stopped an’ gnawed his plug; chawed

an’ chawed a while,

Then Ben Haskell hitched around an’ smole a

sing’lar smile.

“Told that hired man,” said he, “I’d never let

it out,

Guess I’d better tell it, though, an’ settle all

this doubt.

Want to say right here an’ now, to back up

Beals,” says Ben,

“His Jim did sartin wear the crown amongst

all hired men.”

S’prised us all when Ben said that,’cause he

us’al planned

All the hector, tricks an’ jokes’t were put on

Talleyrand.

Ben, though, kept right on his talk. Ben says,

then says he,

“Here’s the secret how he went for I’m the man

that see.

Happened down in Allen’s field day he disap-

peared,

Jim came’crost the intervale; straight as H he

steered

To’ards that silver popple tree; up that tree he

dim’,

—Set there, sort o’ lost in thought, a-straddle

of a limb.

Jest as I’d got underneath he sighed an’ took a

piece

Of mutton taller—give his boots a heavy co’t

of grease,

Greased his fingers nice an’ slick an’ then—an’

then, I swear,

Grabbed them boot-straps, give a pull an’ up

he went in air.”

—Ought to heered us critters laugh—gre’t big

“Haw, haw, haw-w-!”

Jason Britt he dropped his teeth, Erskine gulped

his chaw,

Talleyrand jest set there grum—fin’ly snorted

“Sho!

Think ye’re smart, ye pesky fool! Lemme tell

ye, though,

’Tain’t so thund’rin’ big a stretch ye made then

when ye lied,

Bet ye Jim could lift himself, providin’ he had

tried.

Stout? I see’d him boost a rock—” “Minit,

Tal,” says Ben,

“Hain’t got done my story yit! Jest ye wait

till then.

—Soon’s I see’d that critter start, hollered

loud’s a loon,

’Jeero cris’mus, Jim,’ said I, ‘startin’ for the

moon?’

Jim looked down an’ said, says he, ‘Don’t

know where I’ll fetch,

Ner care a rap so long’s I dodge old Beals, the

mean old wretch!

Trouble is, consarn his soul, his feed has been

so slim

I’ve fell away till northen’s left’cept clothes an’

name o’ Jim.

Reckin then I’ll h’ist myself,’cause, ye see, I’ve

found

It’s blame sight easier raisin’ up than holdin’

to the ground.’

“Then he give them straps a tug an’ up he went

from sight,

—Stood an’ watched him till he growed to jest

a leetle mite!

He’s the champyun hired man, sartin sure, be-

cause

Critter went to Paradise, prob’ly jest’s he

was.”

Talleyrand he got so mad he actyal wouldn’t

speak,

Didn’t come t’ th’ store agin for more’n a solid

week. .

Soon’s he edged around some more wa’n’t no

talk from him

’Bout no hired men, you bet! Clack was shet

on Jim.