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By Root 1394 0

took his time, and never worked up a sweat, and was ready to quit as soon as one animal had been bagged. It dawned on Jacob that there must be some direct correlation between Fanshaw’s laziness and the amount of time he spent doing the one-on-top-together-fastened-between. Up until this moment, Jacob had never really felt superior to the Indian, but now he did. And it also dawned on Jacob that herein lay the real difference between their dwellings. Fanshaw’s house, for all its complexity, looked like something that a bunch of people had thrown together in one afternoon, whereas Jacob’s house looked like something that two men had worked from sunup to sundown for a fortnight to build.

When Fanshaw came at his usual hour that afternoon, Jacob after pouring the drinks suggested this difference as a topic of debate, probably to divert their attention from the event of the night previous. So they harangued one another for an hour on the subject: Which looks more industrious, the red man’s or the white man’s domicile? “Compare a bird’s nest to an anthill,” Fanshaw suggested. They both avoided mentioning the event of the night previous until they had had several drinks and finished (or at least grew tired of) debating whose house looked more industrious, and the importance or unimportance of industry, but finally Fanshaw broached the event of the night previous by asking, “Well. How was it?”

“It?” said Jacob, although he knew what Fanshaw meant. “Yeah. It was hunky-dory.”

“Hunky-dory?” Fanshaw said.

“Scrumdoodle,” Jacob elaborated. “Galuptious. Splendiferous. Humdinger. Slopergobtious. Bardacious. Yum-yum. Swelleroo. Gumptious. Danderoo. Superbangnamious.”

“But did you like it?” Fanshaw persisted.

“Betcha boots,” Jacob said. “Shore thang. What I mean. I aint kiddin. ’Pon my word. Take it from me. I hope to tell ye. Indeedy. You’re darn tootin.”

Fanshaw frowned. “Say yes or no, please.”

“Yeah,” Jacob said.

“Good,” Fanshaw said. “I said you would. Now we can debate topics which previously excluded you. I propose our first: Which would you choose, if forced to abandon the other: whiskey or woman?”

This was an interesting topic which kept them busy for another hour. Curiously enough, Jacob took the side of woman and Fanshaw took the side of whiskey. The former argued that woman was a more effective panacea, somnifacient, emollient, palliative, embrocative, demulcent and diaphoretic. The latter argued that it is better to feel importance than joy. At the end of their debate, which, again, lacking a referee, neither man won, Fanshaw intimated that Jacob was welcome to repeat this night his experience of the night previous, and Jacob was much obliged and beholden. He took another bath-in-three-waters and went again to feel the lightningbolts and thunderclaps atop the long soft but taut arc.

In the spring, early spring, Noah did all of the plowing because Jacob was just too blamed enervated to help. One day Jacob and Fanshaw were watching Noah plow, when Fanshaw asked, “What manner of animal is that which pulls the plow?”

“That’s a mule,” Jacob explained.

“What is a mule?”

“If a jackass serves a mare, the foal is a mule and is sterile.”

“Tell me,” requested Fanshaw. “What is the purpose of the mule?”

“Wal,” Jacob pointed out, “a mule works harder than a horse and he don’t tire out as easy.”

“Because he is sterile?”

“Maybe. I never thought of it that way, but maybe you’re right.”

Not long afterward, still in the spring, Jacob noticed an oddity: Fanshaw’s language was beginning to deteriorate. Right in the middle of one of their debates (Which is better, a round-topped door or a flat-topped door?) and apropos of nothing that Jacob could figure out, Fanshaw said, “Ho! Toward what shall my people direct their footsteps? it has been said in the house. It is toward a little valley they shall direct their footsteps. Verily, it is not a little valley that is spoken of. It is toward the bend of a river they shall direct their footsteps. Verily, it is not the bend of a river that is spoken of. It is toward a little house