"He's got a wall eye," said McKinney, "and I never seen a wall eye in a man, woman, or mustang, that it didn't mean bad.

This here bird ain't no Hereford, nor yet a short-horn.

He's a dogy that ain't bred right, and he ain't due to act right." All Curly could do was to shake his head, unpersuaded.
Meantime, there went on in the little cabin across the _arroyo_, a reproduction of an old, old drama.

Should we, after all, criticise these two descendants of the first sweet human woman of the world?
Consider; to their young and inexperienced eyes appealed all the fascinations of this august but tempting object, new, strange, appealing.

For a time their hearts were strong, upon their souls rested the ancient mandate of denial.