Public-domain ebook
Empty bottles
Language: en370 downloads on Project Gutenberg
Subjects
In: Short Stories·Humour·American Literature
Public-domain ebook sourced from Project Gutenberg #73941.
The opening · free to read
By RAYMOND S. SPEARS
What use had any six foot man for an empty one quart bottle?
A rather large, awkward man shambled into the One Way Thru Saloon, sidled over to the bar and addressed Cock Eye Baer, the mixer. His voice was so low that Cock Eye leaned to hear and then asked for repetition of the nearly voiceless words.
“I want a bottle!” the man blurted out.
“Oh, yeh!” The bartender grinned fatly. “The question now is, gent, how big a bottle?”
“A quart!”
“A man’s size--and now what liquor’ll you have in it?”
The familiar patrons were listening. The visitor was plainly modest, at least before beginning his drinks; but in buying by the bottleful he would obtain more liquor for much less money. And there was a certain aspect which indicated that the visitor was not quite familiar with the lingo or the customs of this business place. He had asked for a bottle--not for a quart of liquor. He was a long time coming to the point, too.
“Why, if you please, I don’t want no liquor; I want an empty bottle!”
“An empty bottle?”
“Yes, sir!” the awkward fellow said, deprecatorily, “I want it clean--you know--no whisky or anything--”
“As though whisky ever soiled the insides of a bottle!” some one exclaimed sorrowfully.
“Go in back!” The bartender lifted his flat nose. “Lotsa bottles out there!”
The man went through into the yard. He returned, smelling alternately of two flat quart bottles, one white, the other brown. They smelled of whisky and he rinsed them many times, finally taking the white one with him down the street.
The saloon crowd watched him take his departure.
“What d’ye make of him?” one asked snortily.
“What he needs is a nipple to go on that bottle!” Cock Eye grinned.
The laughter of the listeners was loud, prolonged, and terminated by a serious round of drinks. Cock Eye was always good that way. He talked brightly and smartly. After several had bought, the bartender served a drink on the house. And then a man came in the front door. The boys gathered around him, made sure he had a drink and then all of them told him what Cock Eye had said when a fellow took an empty bottle out the front door, instead of a full one. It was awfully funny, but Cock Eye had to elucidate his wit himself, because none of the explainers had exactly the lingo and tang with which to tell the story.
The following afternoon along Butte Street Cock Eye, who was off for the day, saw the awkward fellow coming down the side of the square, shambling. The bartender grinned reminiscently so that the stranger angled over and addressed him.
“I don’t know’f I thanked ye for that bottle,” the man said. “I had to have it for a baby a lady had down’t the camp. You see, you fill it full of pretty middlin’ warm water an’ when the kid has the stomach ache you put the bottle on the stomach, which warms it. Course you wrap it in rags.”
“Quite an idea!” Cock Eye approved. “Tha’s all right! But why’d you want it clean for that?”
“I didn’t know they was going to put warm water in it. I thought it was for feedin’ or something.”
“’Tain’t your lady had the baby?”
“No, sir, ’taint. There’s a sickly feller there, the husband, I expect. An old woman come over to my wagon about a bottle. So I come up an’ got it. I’m just lookin’ around myself.”
Cock Eye went on his way. He rolled in his mind this new opportunity. By the time night had come and he was in his white apron behind the bar, he was ready for the boys to come in, which they did in due course.
“Say,” he said, “’member that feller come in last night to get a bottle--empty? Well, I met’m up the street today. He did want it for a baby. There’s a lady had a kid down’t the strollers’ camp and an old woman sent him for it, so’s they could put warm water into it, to warm the baby’s stomach when it ached.”
“Say, ain’t that funny? You did hit it, didn’t you, Cock Eye? You jes’ knowed it was for a baby-- Huh! Water, too. Say, tha’s funny, ain’t it? Cock Eye spots a feller wants an empty bottle f’r a baby. What’d he want a clean bottle f’r, anyhow?”
“He didn’t know’t was for a warmer. He thought it was to feed the kid out of. Old woman sent him for it. He come here.”
“Tha’s funny--come here f’r an empty bottle!” one of the boys laughed. “Le’s have a drink!”
Around the Square in Boxelder the boys told about Cock Eye, the empty bottle and the stroller down at the campground, where there was a lady had a baby. The stranger again came uptown and shambled to the Emporium, went to the post office and headed down the creek to the camp, his arms carrying packages. He was pointed out, and people laughed. He was the fellow who asked Cock Eye for an empty bottle. That was funny. He wanted it to put on a baby’s stomach, too.
“Who are you?” The city marshal, Pete Culder, softened his insult to the stranger by adding, “If it’s any of my business?”
“Why, my name’s Frank Hesbern,” the man answered readily enough. “I’m kind of looking around for a new country to settle in.”
“Understand you got a baby with the stomach ache?”
“Me? Oh, my, no! ’Tain’t my baby. I never did get to marry. It’s a lady’s. She’s camped on the flat. The man he’s sickly. The old lady asked me to get an empty flat bottle to put on the kid’s stomach, tha’s all.”
“I see--” Culder nodded--“that’s funny!”
“What?” Hesbern’s gray eyes squinted. “The baby was crying, sir. They wanted to put warm water on its stomach, ’count of the ache.”
The city marshal laughed and strolled on while Hesbern watched him wonderingly. Thereafter in the days that followed, sometimes one, sometimes five or six inquirers would speak to the stroller, asking him about the empty bottle. After listening to the explanation they would say:
“That’s funny!”
Then they would go on their way, leaving the awkward stranger puzzled more and more.
One day Cock Eye, waddling on his short legs and with his rotund stomach protruding, was again strolling around the square in the afternoon. It chanced that he met Hesbern, who greeted him.
“Say, mister,” the stroller asked, “What’s there funny about me getting an empty bottle?”
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