He almost gave heart attacks to two old ladies and a one-eyed cat the other day. It was a pleasant day for this time of year, and they were just walking silently along the sidewalk here in town when the voice seemed to beam down from the heavens.

“Okay now … listen up! Ast yerself this … has you had any good chopped stewy lately? No. Well, jest haul it on down to the Gates of Heaven Chinese joint here in town and chow down!”

The ladies smiled and waved at Windy Wilson as he drove past in the official loudspeaker announcement car of Del Chin’s restaurant. Since it was the only Oriental restaurant for miles, the ladies wondered why the advertising. If you were craving chow mein … you knew where to go on Main Street to get some. But it’s rude to be impolite. Windy kept cruising.

Doc stepped out of his office to wave at Windy and noticed that W.W. had borrowed a necktie from someone to wear beneath his whiskers and Stetson.

“I know you been askin’ yerself … self … how do I see to it that ol’ Windy Wilson gits hisself a honorary college degree? One a-them good ones with Alphonse Wilson spelled out right on the front … Well, you could allas start yerself a letter-writin’ campaign to git it done, a-course. 

“Let’s face it, Pard, jest how many experienced cowboy camp cooks you know with a honorary college degree? That there’s what I thought you’d say, if you ever stopped and pondered it. Same as me … none.”

Windy drove the car down to the park and turned around to bring the message back up. Kinda like driving a tractor, he thought.

“And while yer figgerin’ out the honorary degree thingie for Windy, you most as well be settin’ down and makin’ notes on the free paper napkins at that there Gates of Heaven Chinese joint while you bullsnake down some a-that Kung Pow Wow. So come on down to Del Chin’s nice and clean Chinese joint and you can see right off that his plates are clean enough to eat off!”

Doc was right, thought Windy. Real Americans never quit.