He has long grey ha'r an' a tangled white beard half-way down his front; an' with that old plug hat an' black coat he's a sight to frighten children or sour milk! Still, Jeffords is all right.

As long as towerists an' other inquisitive people don't go pesterin' Jeffords, he shore lets 'em alone.

Otherwise, you might as well be up the same saplin' with a cinnamon b'ar; which you'd most likely hear something drop a lot! "For myse'f, I likes old Jeffords, an' considers him a pleasin' conundrum.

About tenth drink time he'd take a cha'r an' go camp by himse'f in a far corner, an' thar he'd warble hymns.

Many a time as I files away my nosepaint in the Oriental have I been regaled with, Jesus, Lover of my soul, Let me to Thy bosom fly, While the nearer waters roll, While the tempest still is high, as emanatin' from Jeffords where he's r'ared back conductin' some personal services.