From the way he was excitedly mumbling, I saw that the heedless son of a hay-mow was skipping with all his might, in order to get to the bloody details as quickly as possible; and so he was missing the guide-boards I had set up to warn him that the whole thing was a fraud.
Presently his eyes spread wide open, just as his jaws swung asunder to take in a potato approaching it on a fork; the potato halted, the face lit up redly, and the whole man was on fire with excitement.

Then he broke into a disjointed checking off of the particulars--his potato cooling in mid-air meantime, and his mouth making a reach for it occasionally, but always bringing up suddenly against a new and still more direful performance of my hero.

At last he looked his stunned and rigid comrade impressively in the face, and said, with an expression of concentrated awe: "Jim, he b'iled his baby, and he took the old 'oman's skelp.

Cuss'd if I want any breakfast!" And he laid his lingering potato reverently down, and he and his friend departed from the restaurant empty but satisfied.
He NEVER GOT DOWN to where the satire part of it began.

Nobody ever did.
They found the thrilling particulars sufficient.