“This Jerry’s got one weakness however, I don’t never take advantage of it.  He’s scared to frenzy if you pulls a gun.  I reckons, with all them crimes of his’n preyin’ on his mind, that he allows you’re out, to shoot him up.  Jerry is ca’m so long as your gun’s in the belt, deemin’ it as so much onmeanin’ ornament.  But the instant you pulls it like you’re goin’ to put it in play, he onbuckles into piercin’ screams.  I reaches for my six-shooter one evenin’ by virchoo of antelopes, an’ that’s the time I discovers this foible of Jerry’s.  I never gets a shot.  At the sight of the gun Jerry evolves a howl an’ the antelopes tharupon hits two or three high places an’ is miles away.  Shore, they thinks Jerry is some new breed of demon.

“When I turns to note the cause of Jerry’s clamours he’s loppin’ his fore-laigs over Tom’s back an’ sobbin’ an’ sheddin’ tears into his mane.  Tom sympathises with Jerry an’ says all he can to teach him that the avenger ain’t on his trail.  Nothin’ can peacify Jerry, however, except jammin’ that awful six-shooter back into its holster.  I goes over Jerry that evenin’ patiently explorin’ for bullet marks, but thar ain’t none.  No one’s ever creased him; an’ I figgers final by way of a s’lootion of his fits that mighty likely Jerry’s attended some killin’ between hoomans, inadvertent, an’ has the teeth of his apprehensions set on aige.

“Jerry is that high an’ haughty he won’t come up for corn in the mornin’ onless I petitions him partic’lar an’ calls him by name.  To jest whoop ‘Mules!’ he holds don’t incloode him.  Usual I humours Jerry an’ shouts his title speshul, the others bein’ called in a bunch.  When Jerry hears his name he walks into camp, delib’rate an’ dignified, an’ kicks every mule to pieces who tries to shove in ahead.

“Once, feelin’ some malignant myse’f, I tries Jerry’s patience out.  I don’t call ‘Jerry,’ merely shouts ‘Mules’ once or twice an’ lets it go at that.  Jerry, when he notices I don’t refer to him partic’lar lays his y’ears back; an’ although his r’ar elevation is towards me I can see he’s hotter than a hornet.  The faithful Tom abides with Jerry; though he tells him it’s feed time an’ that the others with a nosebag on each of ‘em is already at their repasts.  Jerry only gets madder an’ lays for Tom an’ tries to bite him.  After ten minutes, sullen an’ sulky, hunger beats Jerry an’ he comes bumpin’ into camp like a bar’l down hill an’ eases his mind by wallopin’ both hind hoofs into them other blameless mules, peacefully munchin’ their rations.  Also, after Jerry’s let me put the nosebag onto him he reeverses his p’sition an’ swiftly lets fly at me.  But I ain’t in no trance an’ Jerry misses.  I don’t frale him; I saveys it’s because he feels hoomiliated with me not callin’ him by name.

“As a roole me an’ Jerry gets through our dooties harmonious.  He can pull like a lion an’ never flinches or flickers at a pinch.  It’s shore a vict’ry to witness the heroic way Jerry goes into the collar at a hard steep hill or some swirlin’, rushin’ ford.  Sech bein’ Jerry’s work habits I’m prepared to overlook a heap of moral deeficiencies an’ never lays it up ag’in Jerry that he’s morose an’ repellant when I flings him any kindnesses.