“Speakin’ of fertile soil,” said the Kansan, when the others had had their say, “I never saw a place where melons growed like they used to out in my part of the country. The first season I planted ‘em I thought my fortune was sure made. However, I didn’t harvest one.”
He waited for queries, but his friends knew him, and he was forced to continue unurged:
“The vines growed so fast that they wore out the melons draggin’ ‘em ’round. However, the second year my two little boys made up their minds to get a taste of one anyhow, so they took turns, carryin’ one along with the vine and—”
But his companions had already started toward the barroom door.