"It's cold in here, and how shall I go to the
party without it, ke-whack!"
"Your yaller wescut?" said Bob. "I haint got no wescut, ke-whack or no
ke-whack."
"You must put that away!" said the fly-up-the-creek, pecking his long
nose at the gold key. "Ke-whack! ke-whack!"
"Oh!" said Towpate, "why didn't you say so?" Then he tossed the gold key
down on the ground, where he had found the iron one, but the key stood
straight up, waving itself to and fro, while Bobby came out with his
drawling: "Well, I never!"
"Pick it up! Pick it up! Ke-whack! You've pitched my yellow waistcoat
into the dirt, ke-whack, ke-whack!"
"Oh! You call that a wescut, do you. Well, I never!" And Bobby picked up
the key, and since he could think of no place else to put it, he put it
into the key-hole, upon which it unwound itself to the left till it was
silver. Bobby, seeing that the key had ceased to move, pulled it out and
turned toward the open door to see the stake-driver wearing a yellow
vest, which he was examining with care, saying, "Ke-whack, ke-whack," as
he did so. "I knew you'd get spots on it, ke-whack, throwing it on the
ground that way."
Poor Bobby was too much mystified by this confusion between the gold key
and the yellow vest, or "wescut," as they call it on the Indian Kaintuck,
to say anything.
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