“‘Them few sparse facts touchin’ the moon,’ returns Colonel Sterett, ’cannot be deemed wonders in any proper sense.  They’re merely interestin’ details which any gent gets onto who brings science to his aid.  But usin’ the word “wonders,” I does once blunder upon a mir’cle which still waits to be explained.  That’s a shore-enough marvel!  An’ to this day, all I can state is that I sees it with these yere eyes.’

“‘Let her roll!’ says Texas Thompson.  ’That moon story prepares us for anything.’

“‘Texas,’ observes the Colonel, a heap severe, ’I’d hate to feel that your observations is the jeerin’ offspring of distrust.’

“‘Me distrust!’ replies Texas, hasty to squar’ himse’f.  ’I’d as soon think of distrustin’ that Laredo divorce of my former he’pmeet!  An’ as the sheriff drives off two hundred head of my cattle by way of alimony, I deems the fact of that sep’ration as fixed beyond cavil.  No, Colonel, you has my fullest confidence.  I’d go doubtin’ the evenhanded jestice of Cherokee’s faro game quicker than distrustin’ you.’

“‘An’ I’m present to say,’ returns the Colonel mighty complacent, ’that I looks on sech assoorances as complimentary.  To show which I onhesitatin’ly reels off that eepisode to which I adverts.

“‘I’m only a child; but I retains my impressions as sharp cut an’ cl’ar as though she happens yesterday.  It’s a time when one of these legerdemain sharps pastes up his bills in our village an’ lets on he’ll give a show in Liberty Hall on the comin’ Saturday evenin’.  An’ gents, to simply read of the feats he threatens to perform would loco you!  Besides, thar’s a picture of Satan, black an’ fiery an’ frightful, where he’s he’pin’ this gifted person to foist said mir’cles upon the age.  I don’t exaggerate none when I asserts that the moment our village gets its eye on these three-sheets it comes to a dead halt.

“‘Old Squar’ Alexanders is the war chief of the hamlet, an’ him an’ the two other selectmen c’llects themse’fs over their toddies an’ canvasses whether they permits this wizard to give his fiendish exhibitions in our midst.  They has it pro an’ con ontil the thirteenth drink, when Squar’ Alexanders who’s ag’in the wizard brings the others to his views; an’ as they staggers forth from the tavern it’s the yoonanimous decision to bar that Satan-aided show.

“‘"Witches, wizards, elves, gnomes, bull-beggars, fiends, an’ devils is debarred the Bloo Grass Country,” says Squar’ Alexanders, speakin’ for himse’f an’ his fellow selectmen, “an’ they’re not goin’ to be allowed to hold their black an’ sulphurous mass meetin’s yere.”

“‘It comes Saturday evenin’ an’ the necromancer is in the tavern eatin’ his supper.  Shore! he looks like common folks at that!  Squar’ Alexanders is waitin’ for him in the bar.  When he shows up, carelessly pickin’ his teeth, it’s mebby half a hour before the show, Squar’ Alexanders don’t fritter away no time, but rounds up the wizard.