"I can tell yuh the kinda cow-puncher he is; I've saw 'em workin' at it.

Haw-haw-haw! They'll start out to move ten or a dozen head uh tame old cows from one field to another, and there'll be six or eight fellers, rigged up like this here tray-spot, ridin' along, important as hell, drivin' them few cows down a lane, with peach trees on both sides, by cripes, jingling their big, silver spurs, all wearin' fancy chaps to ride four or five miles down the road.

Honest to grandma, they call that punchin' cows! Oh, he's a Native Son, all right.

I've saw lots of 'em, only I never saw one so far away from the Promised Land before.

That there looks queer to me.