Summary:  Little Joe brings some unwanted guests to The Ponderosa and causes trouble for everyone.
Rating:  G  (6,600 words)

Hair Today, Gone Tomorrow

Ben Cartwright rubbed his eyes wearily as he put his pen down on the desk. “Let’s have a break for a moment,” he said to his son who was studying the pile of papers beside him. “My eyes are tired.”

Adam breathed a sigh of relief and put the papers down. “I’m glad you said that,” he said. “I’d forgotten just how much paperwork there is to do around here Pa.” He grinned at his father as he leant back on the chair he’d placed next to Ben’s large leather one which always stood behind the man’s desk in his study. “I thought I’d finished with writing so much when I graduated.”

Ben returned the grin. “The paperwork around here never ends,” he said. “I must say that it’s nice to have some help with it though. Since you got back last month son I’ve appreciated how quickly I get through this side of things now.” He glanced at the open window above his head. “I’d much rather be out there with your brother Hoss at the moment, I must admit.”

Adam raised an eyebrow in that way he had that unconsciously imitated a facial quirk of his father’s. “Well I wouldn’t,” he admitted. “Much and all as I could do without all this paperwork, at least it gives me a bit of a break from being in the saddle.” He shrugged. “I really didn’t realise how out of condition I’d become having been away in Boston for three years. I can do without a day in the saddle, I can assure you.”

Ben slapped his son on the back jovially. “It’ll come back,” he said. “Just give it a bit of time.” He jerked his head at the sound of a noise outside. “I wonder who that could be?” he said. “Hoss shouldn’t be back yet.”

As the words left his mouth, the front door was flung open with a bang and a small whirlwind known to his family as Little Joe Cartwright ran into the room. “Hey Pa! Hey Adam! I’m home!” he announced happily as he ran into the study, rested his arms on his father’s desk and grinned at them both.

“So I can see,” replied his father, glancing at the grandfather clock next to where Adam was sitting. “And why would you be coming home at lunch time, pray tell?”

Joe continued to grin happily at his father. “Ain’t it great?” he said excitedly. “I got the rest of the day off.”

“Joseph?” demanded his father as he gave his youngest son a stern look. “What have you done now? Miss Jones wouldn’t have sent you home for no reason, young man.”

Joe shrugged nonchalantly, secure in the knowledge that for once he’d done nothing wrong … at least nothing that he could be called to account to by his father at this precise moment. Instead, he grinned broadly and pulled a note out of his jacket pocket, waving it excitedly under Ben’s nose. “Miss Jones said to give this to you,” he said happily. “She said I weren’t to come back to school for a few days.”

He turned to Adam, his grin becoming even wider as his father took the note from his hand. “Ain’t that great Adam?” he asked his brother. “I get time off school.” He began to fiddle with the pencils on his father’s desk as he thought about the prospects that a few days off school would bring and his mind was so full of happy thoughts of the fishing and riding he would do in those carefree hours that stretched ahead of him, that his father’s voice startled him when it finally broke the silence that had developed. He jumped slightly.

“Phthiriasis,” said Ben with a sigh as he placed the note on the desk and gave Joe a weary look.

Adam looked confused. “What?” he asked.

Now it was Ben’s turn to shrug. “Well, you know how Abigail Jones likes to carry on,” he said. “She always has to display her knowledge of words when anyone else would just come straight out and say it plain.”

“I wish someone would,” said Adam, sarcastically.

Ben shook his head again, appearing not to have heard the comment. “I’ve lost count of the times ….” he began and then frowned at Joe who was still smiling at him happily. “Who were you sitting next to?” he asked suddenly.

Joe scratched his head thoughtfully. “Seth Pruitt,” he said finally. “He got sent home too.”

“What on earth is it?” asked Adam in an aggrieved tone. He wasn’t used to everyone around him having a discussion and not being able to keep up with the topic, especially when one of those people was his little brother. “What did she send him home for?”

Joe leant close to his brother so that their heads were almost touching. “You wanna see?” he asked generously, pointing to his hair.

Adam gave his brother an appalled look as his meaning became obvious. “Do you mean to tell me that you have ….” He flung himself back in his chair with a sudden movement until he hit the wall behind him.

Ben shook his head again as he stood up. “I don’t see why Abigail Jones can’t just come out and say he’s got nits instead of using all these …” he waved at the paper on his desk. “… all these medical names for it. Honestly, that woman … always trying to impress everyone with her command of the English language!” He looked down at the top of Joe’s head and began to pick up a few of the curls reluctantly. “I suppose we’d better take care of it,” he said. “You stay here Joseph while I get some things.”

“What’s up?” asked Little Joe, taking a step towards Adam who by now was leaning back flat against the wall in order to put as much distance between himself and his brother. “You don’t need to be afraid or nothing Adam. I’ve had em lots of times and I don’t mind em. They don’t hurt or nothing.” He scratched his head vigorously as their father left the room. “I’ll let ya look iffen you like. They’s only little, but they sure can hop a long way. Seth Pruitt and me sometimes ….”

Adam held up a hand to stop his brother. “Take a step back,” he instructed him. “Don’t you come any closer to me. I sure don’t want them.”

Joe frowned. “I wasn’t gonna give em to you,” he declared indignantly. “I was just letting you look cause I thought you might be interested.”

Adam stood up and walked to the other side of the study away from Joe, still giving his little brother an appalled look. “Well I’m not,” he said firmly. “The only thing I’m interested in, is making sure that you don’t give them to me.”

There was a sudden loud banging sound from the kitchen area and both brothers turned instantly. “I’d say that Hop Sing has just heard the news,” said Adam sarcastically.

Joe nodded in agreement as he continued to scratch his head. “Yeah,” he said. “He gets right angry whenever I come home with nits. He always says he’s gonna go home to China.” He gave his brother a curious look. “Don’t they have nits in China?” he asked.

Adam had no time to answer, for at that moment Hop Sing entered the living room in a flurry, Ben right behind him. “Always same!” the cook shouted angrily to no one in particular as he waved his arms around. “No have time for cook when now have to boil sheets and towels again!” He glared at Ben as if the whole thing was his fault. “Hop Sing go back Old China!” he finished firmly, playing his usual trump card.

Ben tried to look apologetic, but his tight jaw betrayed his inner thoughts of frustration. “There’s no need to carry on so Hop Sing,” he said calmly. “It’s no one’s fault.”

“Is fault!” shouted Hop Sing angrily, swivelling around now to glare at Joe who simply gave him a blank look in return. “Boy clean when leave house, so must be getting nits from other children.” He puffed himself up to his full height and added indignantly. “Hop Sing run clean house, but not everyone do.”

Ben nodded wearily. “I know, I know,” he said. “But let’s be fair about this. Joseph could have picked them up anywhere.”

Hop Sing’s arm movements became even wilder. “Not in Hop Sing house!” he shouted. “Keep clean house!”

Ben held up a hand. “I didn’t mean that,” he said, trying to soothe the man. “You are an impeccable housekeeper Hop Sing, everyone knows that. What I meant was that he could have picked them up in the barn or anywhere else near the animals. You know how easy it is to do that.”

Hop Sing looked from Ben to Joe and then back to Ben again. “Hmph!” he said finally, before disappearing into the kitchen.

“Well, that went well,” said Adam, giving his father a sympathetic look.

Ben rolled his eyes and shook his head slightly. “Don’t take too much notice of him,” he replied. “He’ll calm down once he gets the washing underway.”

Joe bounded across the room to his father. “Don’t they have nits in China, Pa?” he asked curiously.

Ben ignored the question and instead steered his youngest son towards the settee before pushing him down onto it. “You sit there,” he said sternly. “And don’t you move a muscle young man until I come back.”

Joe immediately looked crestfallen. “You ain’t gonna cut my hair, are ya Pa?” he asked in a worried tone, suddenly sensing what was about to befall him.

“I most certainly am,” replied his father. “And you’re going to have it washed in …..”

“Is it really necessary for him to sit there?” interrupted Adam testily. “Right where everyone always sits?”

Ben gave his son a strange look. “He’s not hurting anyone,” he said. “It’s only for a few minutes and he’ll keep his hair off the furniture.” He gave Joe a meaningful look. “Won’t you Joseph?”

Joe nodded dolefully, his mind still coming to terms with the fact that he now had to endure one of his father’s haircuts. Having his hair cut in town at the barber’s was bad enough, but when his father decided to wield a sharp pair of scissors over him the result usually wasn’t good for either of them.

Adam rolled his eyes. “Don’t you think it would be better for him to go outside?” he asked pointedly. “It’s bad enough that he brings nits home without giving them to everyone else.”

Now it was Ben’s turn to roll his eyes. “For heaven’s sake Adam,” he said. “He’s not giving them to anyone else and …. it’s only nits.”

“Yeah,” agreed Joe, scratching his head again. “It’s only nits.”

“It’s disgusting,” said Adam, his face showing his own disgust.

Ben frowned. “Since when did you become so squeamish?” he asked. “You’ve had them a time or two yourself you know. We all have.”

Adam looked indignant. “That was when I was a kid,” he said. “Why …. back east ….”

Ben held up a hand to stop the inevitable monologue that he felt was coming. Ever since Adam had returned from college in Boston a month ago, he’d had the impression that the young man looked on some of their ways out here with fresh eyes  that had been well and truly refined by being back east at college for three years. He sincerely hoped that the time he’d spent there hadn’t turned him into one of those snobbish city folks that sometimes travelled through these parts on their way to San Francisco. At the moment, looking at his son’s appalled expression, it seemed as if his fears might be well grounded.

“I know,” he said quickly. “Back east you didn’t see such things as nits. Well I’ll have you know that they are a part of every society. Even ….”

Joe looked up at his father. “Don’t they have nits in Boston?” he interrupted.

Ben looked down at him and then over at Adam, who was still scowling at them both. “Joseph, go and sit out on the front porch while you’re waiting for me,” he said finally, to keep the peace.

“Why do I have to sit out there just cause he says so?” Joe demanded indignantly. “Me and my nits ain’t hurting anyone!”

Ben gave him a slight push towards the door. “Just go and sit outside,” he said. “Go on.” He waited while Joe reluctantly dragged his feet towards the front door and left the room, before turning to Adam again. “There’s no need to make him feel like a leper,” he said shortly.

“I’m sorry,” replied Adam. “I guess I’m not used to such things. Back east ….”

Ben held up his hand again. “Yes,” he sighed. “I know. Things were far too refined back there for you to be worried about such things. Well, you’re home again now and I’m afraid this is the way we live.” His expression softened as he looked at Adam’s contrite expression. “Perhaps you’d better wash your hair if you feel that strongly about it?”

“Don’t worry,” Adam assured his father. “I intend to. I suppose the coal oil is still where Hop Sing used to keep it?”

At the sound of his name, Hop Sing burst into the room again muttering under his breath in Chinese and still flinging his arms wide. At the sight of Ben and Adam he glared once more and pointed his finger in the direction of the kitchen. “Copper boiling now,” he said and continued to mutter to himself as he walked upstairs.

Ben looked at Adam and shrugged. “I suppose that means we’ll be getting our own supper later,” he said. “When he gets like this he’ll be boiling up everything in sight for hours…. Linen … blankets … towels.”

“Boiling everything except our supper,” said Adam morosely. “I’m going to get that coal oil and get started on my hair.”

“I’ll get the scissors,” said Ben, following his son towards the kitchen. “I’m sure not looking forward to this. Joseph hates having his hair cut at the best of times.”

Outside, Joe sat on the edge of the wooden table on the front porch, swinging his legs as he watched his middle brother ride into the front yard. “Hey Hoss!” he shouted happily as the large young man dismounted from his horse and strolled over to him.

“Hey yourself,” said Hoss with an easy grin as he ruffled Joe’s hair and sat down on one of the wooden benches beside the table. He took off his hat, ran his fingers through his own hair and fanned himself with his hat before placing it on his head again. “Whatcha doin home so early, Joe?” he asked.

Joe gave his brother a happy grin. “I’m having a good day,” he announced. “I’ve got nits.”

“Yeah?” asked Hoss casually, leaning back on the bench and yawning slightly. “Get yourself sent home again, did ya? What’s fer lunch?” He rubbed his stomach with satisfaction at the thought that it was again mealtime.

“Dunno,” Joe admitted. “I sure am getting hungry though. Pa said to sit here and wait fer him, so I can’t go in and get anything to eat yet but.”

“I’ll get ya something,” said Hoss, standing up. “I’ll get us both something from Hop Sing.”

“Gee thanks Hoss,” said Joe, grinning at his brother. “Only I don’t think Hop Sing is in the kitchen. I heard him upstairs.” He pointed to the roof of the porch. “He’s been talking and talking up there in my bedroom, but I think he’s talking to himself cause it’s all in Chinese.”

Hoss nodded. “Probably fixing your bed again,” he observed. “You know how he gets.”

At that moment the kitchen door opened and Ben appeared, his arms full of equipment with which to attack the offending nits.

“No Pa!” shouted Little Joe, jumping to his feet in dismay as he spied the bottle swinging from one of his father’s hands. “That coal oil stings!”

“Sit down,” said Ben firmly, putting everything on the table and pulling Joe back down onto it. “This has to be done.” He glanced at Hoss as he tied a large towel around Joe’s neck. “You home for lunch already?” he asked. “You’ll have to fix yourself something son …. Hop Sing is busy in the upstairs stripping all the beds.”

Hoss nodded miserably. “OK,” he said. “I’ll look after myself Pa.”

“Don’t forget me!” Joe shouted after him. He turned his best puppy dog look onto his father. “Do you haveta cut it Pa? Can’t ya just wash it this time?”

“I’m doing both,” said Ben firmly as he began to attack the child’s head with his comb and scissors. “Hold still.”

“I don’t want it cut,” sniffed Little Joe, the tears beginning to run down his cheeks as he turned his miserable face up towards his father. “You always cut it too short Pa!”

“Keep still,” Ben repeated, ignoring the tears as he concentrated on combing and cutting the unruly curls. “It has to be done Joseph, so just be quiet and I’ll get it over with as quickly as possible.”

“Don’t do it too short,” pleaded Joe, but to no avail. By the time his father had finished there were numerous curls lying on the porch floor around them and his head felt quite light.

“There,” said Ben in a satisfied tone. He stood back to survey his handiwork. “Not bad, if I do say so myself.” He knocked Joe’s hand down as the boy put it up to feel his head. “Don’t touch it,” he warned. “There’s plenty of those little critters still in there yet.” He began to sweep up the small curls on the floor as Joe looked on miserably. “Now you just sit there while I get rid on these in the fire,” he said, patting the child on the arm. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

Joe scowled at his father as the man retreated into the house, putting his hand on his head the moment Ben had disappeared. “I knew he’d cut it too short,” he murmured sadly to himself and then his eyes brightened as Hoss emerged from the kitchen again, carrying three large sandwiches. “Thanks!” he said as his brother handed one to him before sitting down and proceeding to polish off the other two.

Hoss put his head on one side as he chewed and gave his younger brother’s head a critical look. “Pa really went for it this time,” he observed.

Joe made a face as he bit into his sandwich. “I know,” he said, with a full mouth. “Don’t know why him and Hop Sing gets so riled up about nits but. They ain’t hurting anyone.” He grinned. “You shoulda seen old Jonesy’s face when she saw em jumping off my head in school this morning,” he giggled. “She nearly screamed.” He shrugged. “She don’t like nits neither,” he added casually.

“Neither does older brother Adam,” retorted Hoss. “You should see him in there. He’s scrubbing at his hair as if he’s gonna scrub it away.”

“Don’t they have lice in Boston, Hoss?” asked Joe.

Hoss shrugged as he started on the second sandwich. “I reckon so Joe,” he replied. “Can’t understand why he’s so riled up bout em.”

Ben opened the door again and strode towards them. “Hurry up with that sandwich,” he instructed Joe. “I need to wash that hair of yours.”

Joe gulped down the last of his sandwich and gave his father another pleading look. “Not the coal oil Pa,” he said. “It stings!”

“First the coal oil and then we’ll try some of Hop Sing’s strong lye soap,” said Ben, opening the bottle and pouring some oil onto a rag.

“There mightn’t be any left,” said Hoss putting the last of his sandwich into his mouth with a flourish. “Adam’s using most of it on his hair in the washhouse. How come he’s so riled up bout all this Pa?”

“He don’t like nits,” Joe observed as his father began to rub the coal oil over his head with the towel.

“Well, no one likes nits,” said his father.

“I don’t mind em,” interrupted Joe, his voice muffled from under the towel as his father rubbed his head vigorously. “They give me time off school and they don’t hurt me none. I think they’re kinda cute.”

Ben decided to ignore the comment. “Adam is just used to city ways,” he explained to Hoss. “He’s finding adjusting to things out here a bit strange at the moment, but he’ll settle down in a while,” he added, taking the towel off Joe’s head and poking his fingers between the boy’s shorn curls to inspect his scalp. He glanced at Hoss. “You’d better do your hair too son,” he said. “I’ll be doing mine when I’ve finished this young man’s.”

“Will Hop Sing do his?” asked Joe curiously as Ben began to rub his head again with towel. “Ow, Pa! That stings!”

“I’m sure he will son,” said Ben. “There …  That’s done … Now, into the washhouse with you and we’ll get it washed.”

“Can’t we do it later?” whined Joe. “Now that I’ve had lunch I was gonna go fishing.”

“You’re going nowhere,” said his father firmly as he gathered up his equipment again. “Into the wash house please. March!” He picked Joe off the table and then pointed towards the small room at the back of the kitchen.

Joe dug his toe into the dirt as he walked towards the house. “Ain’t fair,” he muttered under his breath. “I wanted to go fishing.”

Ben pushed him towards the bathhouse and followed him inside. As they entered the room, Adam turned to face them. “Don’t bring him near me,” he warned his father as he rubbed at his wet hair. “I’m sure he’s still got them.”

Joe sniffed the air as he walked towards his brother. “You stink,” he announced. “And you look right funny Adam.” He looked at his brother curiously. Adam’s hair was dripping wet and stuck out in all angles with a foamy green gel-like substance that was matted through it.

“You’ll smell the same in a minute or two,” replied Adam in a huffy tone. “Hop Sing said to try this.” He held out a bottle to his father. “He said it’s made from sweet wormwood and chrysanthemums.”

“What?” said Ben, staring at the bottle curiously. “I was going to use lye soap.”

Adam rubbed at his hair again. “He said to try this. Old Chinese remedy, he said.” He sniffed the air. “All I can say it that it had better work, because it sure smells horrible.”

Ben opened the bottle and sniffed it before making a wry face. “Well it’s worth a try,” he said, trying not to laugh out loud at the sight of Adam’s hair.

“I ain’t having that stuff on my hair!” announced Little Joe suddenly. “It’s horrible!”

“No more horrible than the nits you’ve kindly brought home to share,” said Adam sarcastically. “Remind me not to get too close to you for a long time.”

Joe poked put his tongue at his brother. “Ain’t my fault!” he declared.

“Hop Sing said to let it dry on the hair,” instructed Adam, as Ben pulled Joe by the arm towards a large washbasin. “Rub it into his wet head first and then just let it sit for a while.”

“No!” shouted Joe, as his father bent his head forward over the basin and poured a bucket of cold water over his hair. “I don’t want it!”

“Be quiet Joseph,” said Ben sternly. “I’m having it too …. We all are.”

“Thanks to you,” said Adam smugly, sitting down and enjoying the sight of his miserable little brother having the gel rubbed through his hair. “You’re the one who caused all of this.”

Joe gulped as he regained his breath again after the dousing with water. “I told you it weren’t my fault!” he protested.

“Of course it’s not your fault,” Ben said soothingly as he worked the gel thoroughly into Joe’s hair. “These things just happen.” He stepped back and looked at the boy critically. Joe’s hair was decidedly green and stuck out in all angles. “That should do it,” he said. “Now I’m going upstairs to help Hop Sing with the linen. I’ll be back to do my hair when we’ve got everything boiling.”

As his father left the room, Joe sat down on a stool opposite Adam and poked his tongue out at his brother. “You stink,” Joe said rudely.

“So do you,” retorted Adam calmly. “Probably twice as bad as I do.”

The two brothers both crossed their arms over their chests and sat scowling at each other for a full minute in silence. “You smell worse than that time Hoss got sprayed by the skunk,” Joe said finally, considering this the worst insult he could give.

Adam opened his mouth to make a retort, but at that moment the kitchen door opened and Hoss entered the room. His eyes bulged at the sight of his two brothers sitting facing each other with their hair stuck out in all directions with the green gel. “Don’t you bother to look like that,” said Adam, before his brother could say a word. “You’ll be getting this stuff in your hair too.”

Hoss shrugged as he grinned at the sight of his siblings. “Nah!” he said casually. “I think I’ll stick to the lye soap. Sides,” he added. “I don’t mind a few nits.” He took his hat off and scratched his head again. “Seems to me that it ain’t worth getting rid of em nohow. Soon as they’re gone they usually come back again. I don’t know what all the fuss is about.”

“Hmph!”

They all turned at the sound and Hoss gulped guiltily as he noticed Hop Sing standing behind him, his arms full of bed linen and towels. “You wash hair!” the man said, scowling at Hoss. “Hop Sing have clean house and not have dirty hair ruin!” He dumped the towels and sheets in the large copper that was boiling away in the corner and began to stir them vigorously with a long stick.

“Cause I will,” Hoss assured him quickly. “I didn’t mean nothing by that Hop Sing.”

“Boy bring dirty bugs into house,” Hop Sing continued to mutter as if he hadn’t heard the comment. He glared at Joe and pointed his finger at him. “You not bring again!” he instructed him. “Make too much work for Hop Sing!”

Joe gave the housekeeper an indignant look. “I didn’t mean to!” he declared.

Hop Sing reached out to hit him on the side of the head, but one look at the green-gelled hair made him withdraw it quickly. “Hmph!” he said again in replace of a reply and continued to stir the linen as he uttered a string of Chinese words and phrases under his breath.

The three boys looked at each other and rolled their eyes, for they were well used to Hop Sing’s utterances.

“What’s for supper Hop Sing?” asked Hoss innocently and immediately regretted his remark as Hop Sing spun on his heels to face him.

“Hop Sing have no time cook supper!” he shouted at the young man. “Too much washing!”

Hoss took a step backwards towards the wall and gave the cook a sad look. “Not even leftovers?” he asked hopefully.

“I’ll make supper,” volunteered Ben as he entered the room, his arms also full of bed linen. “Where do you want these, Hop Sing?”

Hop Sing motioned to a basket in the corner of the room. “Hop Sing go back Old China if little boy bring bugs into clean house one more time!” he warned them all. “Too much work!”

Ben sighed as he fingered first Joe’s sticky hair and then Adam’s. “Now, now Hop Sing,” he said in the same weary tone he reserved for such occasions. “Let’s just all relax about it. It can’t be helped.” He picked up a comb and began to pull it through Joe’s curls, wiping it on a piece of cloth after each pull. “This stuff really seems to be working,” he said, peering at the towel.

“Let me see!” said Joe, excitedly, as he peered at the sticky mass on the towel. “Hey! I can see lots of em on there dead!” he said. “Look Adam!”

Adam drew back and gave his brother a distasteful look. “No thank you,” he said.

“You look just like old Jonesy …. I mean Miss Jones,” Joe corrected himself as he caught the look in his father’s eye. “She don’t like nits neither.”

“Well for once I agree with her,” said Adam as he also picked up a comb and began to run it through his own hair. “I’m just sorry that people have to know about this.” He glared at Joe again. “Everyone in town will probably know by now that the Cartwrights have nits.”

“Everyone in town probably already has em themselves,” said Hoss casually as he helped himself to an apple.

“Wash your hair,” ordered Ben, looking at his middle over his shoulder as he continued to work on Joe’s hair. Hoss shrugged and took the bottle that Hop Sing held out to him, before beginning to roll up his sleeves.

“Are you gonna do your hair too, Hop Sing?” asked Joe curiously. When the man answered in the affirmative, his eyes lit up. “Can I watch?” he asked excitedly. “What?” he said in an aggrieved tone as his father hit him on the back smartly. “I was just asking?” he added defensively. “I ain’t never seen Hop Sing’s plait out before.”

“Is called queue,” said Hop Sing in a proud tone as he corrected the boy.

“Yeah?” said Joe. “Why do you wear it so long Hop Sing? How come you got a plait … I mean … a queue?”

“To honour ancestors,” replied Hop Sing.

“Huh?” said Joe, genuinely puzzled as what the man meant by this remark.

“Joseph, that is enough,” interrupted Ben. “Hop Sing’s hair is his own affair. You just concentrate on your own.”

“Yeah,” agreed Adam as he pulled the comb through his own dark locks. “Make sure you get them all out Pa, or he’ll still be contagious.”

“What’s contagious mean?” asked Joe, turning his attention to Adam. “Ow! That hurts Pa!”

“Well, stop moving your head,” instructed his father. “Keep still.”

“All this fuss over a few nits,” muttered Joe. “They were just minding their own business in my hair. They weren’t hurting no-one.”

Adam rolled his eyes. “They’re filthy,” he said. “You should be ashamed of having them.”

“That will do!” said Ben, pointing the comb in Adam’s direction. “It’s not his fault.”

“Yeah,” said Joe smugly, poking his tongue out at Adam. “It ain’t my fault!”

“And you be quiet too,” said his father, giving Joe’s hair one last tug. “Now let’s wash this muck out of your hair.”

“Is not muck!” said Hop Sing indignantly as he continued to stir the linen. “Is good medicine for killing bugs.”

Ben nodded as he waited for Hoss to step aside from the tub and then pushed Joe’s head over it. “I know, I know,” he said, picking up a bucket of water and throwing it over his son’s hair. “Old Chinese remedy.”

“Let me get in there Pa,” said Adam, trying to get near the tub. “I need to get this stuff out of my hair.”

Ben stepped aside and began to towel Joe’s hair dry as he watched Hoss distastefully coat his hair with the green gel. “Work it right in and then let it dry,” he said, while behind him Adam poured bucket after bucket of water over his head. “Steady on there son,” said Ben, turning to look at him and dragging Joe with him as he continued to rub the child’s hair. “One bucket should be enough to rinse it out.”

“I’m not taking any chances,” replied Adam as he picked up a towel. “That stuff stinks.” He gave Hop Sing an apologetic look, but the housekeeper simply glared back at him. “No offence Hop Sing,” he added lamely as he realised what he’d said.

“Pa! You’re gonna rub my hair all off!” complained Little Joe from underneath the towel. Ben stopped rubbing and picked up a clean comb to attack his son’s head with. Ben stopped rubbing and picked up a comb to pull through the child’s hair. “Hey Pa?” said Joe, suddenly. “Do nits go on any hair?”

Ben frowned as he worked. “Yes,” he said. “Although I’m not sure what you mean by that.”

Joe looked up at his father. “I mean …. They don’t just live in hair on ya head, do they? Can they live in hair all over your body?” He gave his father a questioning look, as did Hoss. Adam stopped combing his hair and also stared at his father.

“Well now,” said Ben, considering the question. “That’s something I’ve not been asked before. To be honest son ….” He nearly choked with laughter at the appalled look on Adam’s face as he spoke, but caught himself just in time. “I think they just live in the hair on your head,” he finished.

“That’s good,” said Joe. “Cause Adam and Hoss and you would have to put that gel stuff on your chests too then, wouldn’t ya?” He pulled his shirt away from his neck and glanced down on his own small chest. “Nuthin down there for me to worry bout yet but.”

Adam’s eyes nearly popped out of his head as he considered his brother’s remarks. “Are you ….” He swallowed. “Are you sure about that Pa?” he asked tentatively. “I mean, if they do live in …. Um … other areas ….”

Ben tried not to smile at his son’s obvious distress. “I’m fairly sure son,” he said. “You’ll just have to keep an eye on things, I suppose.” Adam’s face went bright red and he thoughtfully began to comb his hair again. “Well that’s you finished,” said Ben brightly, tapping Joe on the head with the comb. “I defy anyone to find any nits in there now.”

Joe fingered his shorn head mournfully. “Poor nits,” he said. “Well at least I get time off school,” he added, on a happier note. “Miss Jones said not to come back for a few days.” He grinned at his father happily.

“You’ll be back at school tomorrow as usual,” said his father firmly. “There’s no need for you to stay at home now that the nits are gone. I’ll send a letter to Miss Jones to that effect.” He motioned to Hoss. “Come over here and rinse that stuff out of your hair now.”

Joe opened his mouth in protest. “But that ain’t fair!” he said indignantly. “Miss Jones don’t want me back tomorrow. She said so!”

“I don’t blame her,” said Adam, ignoring the dark look his father gave him at the remark.

“I don’t care,” said Ben firmly as he tipped a bucket of water over Hoss’ head. “You’re going back and that’s and end to it Joseph. The nits are gone and there’s no need not to go to school. Now go and sit outside in the sunshine and dry your hair.”

“But what about all the fishing I was gonna do?” protested Joe, standing his ground.

“There’ll be no fishing Joseph,” said Ben, handing Hoss a towel. “Now get!”

Joe gave his father one last scowl before walking to the door of the kitchen. “Ain’t fair,” he mumbled under his breath as he opened the door. “A fellar gets nits and he don’t even get a day off school. Ain’t fair!”

“Adam, Hoss, go and dry your hair outside as well. I need to get mine done and Hop Sing needs the space to get on with his washing.”

Adam stood up, still looking somewhat nonplussed at his previous conversation. “Sure thing Pa,” said Hoss, grabbing a couple of apples as he left the room.

Outside, Joe was sitting on the edge of the water trough, his face in his hands and one boot kicking at the dirt. “Ain’t fair!” he was still muttering under his breath.

Adam sat down on one side of him, while Hoss sat on the other. “Life’s tough shortshanks,” said Hoss, happily biting into one of his apples.

“Yeah,” agreed Joe, still kicking at the dirt. “Rotten old school again tomorrow. I can just hear old Jonesy talking now.”  He put his hands over his ears as if he could, in fact, hear the teacher speaking.

Hoss nodded in sympathy. “And no good supper tonight,” he added. “Pa’s cooking sure ain’t like Hop Sing’s.” He put his hands over his mouth as if he could taste it then and there.

Adam was silent, still coming to terms with the fact that the nits might be right at this moment finding other hairy places on his body to settle. As soon as his head was dry, he was determined to check it out in the privacy of his bedroom. He shuddered to think of what he might find and put his hands over his eyes as if he shield them from the offending nits that might be lurking on his chest, his arms, his legs, his …. He shuddered again.

The three brothers sat thus for a full minute, Adam’s hands over his eyes, Hoss’ over his mouth and Joe’s over his ears as they were each lost in their own miserable thoughts. After the minute’s silence, Hoss put his head up and stared at Joe curiously, then slowly he put his hand out and picked something from the boy’s hair. “Hey lookee here,” he said, wonderingly. “I guess Hop Sing’s remedy weren’t so great after all.” He showed them the small crushed insect on his thumb.

“Another nit!” said Joe happily and then looked accusingly at Hoss. “Did ya have to kill it?” he said. “Hey Hoss …. Look again …. Are there any more there?”

Hoss looked. “I can see a couple,” he said. “You want me to take em out for ya Joe?”

Joe pulled his head away instantly. “No way!” he shouted. “You leave em alone Hoss! If I’m lucky there will be more by morning and then I’ll get tomorrow off school after all.” He grinned at both his brothers. “I knew this was gonna be a good day,” he said happily. “How lucky can a feller get? Two lots of nits in one day!”

Hoss shrugged. “Well, I’m gonna go and check out those mares. Coming Joe? Coming Adam?”

Joe bounced off the water trough, all his previous woes forgotten. “Sure thing Hoss,” he said. “And maybe if I’m lucky I’ll get a few more nits from in the barn too.”

“Well one sure thing,” added Hoss as he also stood up. “The horses sure don’t mind iffen we’ve got a few nits. They’re not like people.”

Adam watched as his two brothers walked towards the barn, feeling that somehow it just didn’t seem worth his while to protest. Thoughts of the refined society that he’d left behind in Boston back east flitted across his mind and he sighed as he considered just how far he was from such things. “Welcome home Adam,” he said sarcastically under his breath. “Gee, it’s great to be here again!” With a deep sigh he stood up and turned towards the house.

The End