I didn't know a donkey could cook, he said irritably, annoyed that Pea would josh him when he was so tired. He's got a fain lead on the donkey. He was wishing he'd stayed in Arkansas and taken his hanging. Though he had laughed about the cow in the house, Deets had not been his usual cheerful self for the last few days.
She was carrying a red rooster for some reason. From being a lead steer, he had drifted back to the drags and usually trailed a mile or two behind the herd. It startled him to hear Clara say she could kill him over such a thing as that, but he knew from her look that it wasn't just talk. I'm cooking one of that shoat's cousins right this minute.
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