"'Well that's another thing,' says I, noncommittal like.
"'All right,' says she, 'gimme something out of that other bucket and
I'll go away. Come on, old sweetheart,' and she held up her arms to
me.
"Well, I gave her the bucket and true to form she emptied it. Then she
began to argue and plead with me until I nearly lost an ear.
"'No,' I yells at her, 'I ain't agoing to spend the night arguing with
a drunken mermaid. Go away, now; you said you would.'
"'All right, old love,' she replies good-naturedly, 'but I'll see you
again some time. I ain't ever going home again. I hate it down there.'
And off she swims in an unsteady manner in the direction of the Gold
Fish Arms. She was singing and shouting something terrible.
"'Oh, bury me not on the lonesome prairie
Where the wild coyotes howl o'er me,'
was the song she sang and I wondered where she had ever picked it up.
"Well," continued the chief, "to cast a sheep shank in a long line,
these visits kept up every evening until I was pretty near drove
distracted. Along she'd come about sun-down and stick around devilin'
me and drinking up all my grog. After a while she began calling for
gin and kept threatening me until I just had to satisfy her.
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