It was town talk that Tobit McStenger was a hard father; drunk or sober, he
chastised little Tobe upon the slightest occasion.
"But," said Tobit McStenger, after admitting his severity as a parent
before the bar in Couch's saloon, "let any one else lay a finger on that
kid! Just let 'em! They'll find out, jail or no jail, I'm ugly!" And he
went on to repeat for the thousandth time that when he was ugly he was a
bad man.
Whereupon the other loungers in Couch's saloon, "Honesty Tom Yerkes," the
hauler, Sam Hatch, the bill-poster, and the rest, agreed that a man's
manner of governing his household was his own business.
Tobit McStenger had his word to say upon all village topics. When in
Couch's saloon one night he learned that the school directors had decided
to take the primary school from the tutorship of a woman and to put a man
over it as teacher, Tobit pricked up his ears and had many words to say. He
was working at the time, and he spoke in loud, coarse tones, as he wielded
his oyster-knife, having for an audience the usual dozen barroom tarriers.
"I know what that means," cried Tobit McStenger.
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