"The tar on my neck has melted an' run down an' my shirt sticks like the bark on a tree.

I'm sick o' the smell o' myself.

If I could find a skunk I'd enjoy holdin' him in my lap a while.

I'm goin' back to St.Lawrence County about as straight as I can go.

I never did like this country anyway." He had picked the feathers out of his neck and Latour was now busy picking his arms and shoulders.