TWO SPORTS ; OR, OUT FOR A LARK. Zo 
his pants in his boots, faded clothes, his hat old, gray and 
misshapen, over his shoulders an army musket, sadly 
out of proportion to the youthful hunter. The civil 
salutations of the day are passed. The boy would 
move on, but our friends will it otherwise, for, suspend- 
ed from his back, they count eight mallards. At once 
they resolve themselves into a committee of two, and 
are fit: subjects for “treason, strategy and_ spoils.” 
Each hastily runs his hand into his pockets, mentally 
takes an inventory of his cash on hand, looks askance 
at the other, silently winks and all is understood. 
Having during dinner partaken liberally of “ Bud- 
weiser,” they are extremely affectionate and loquacious. 
“Young man,” says Jim, “we are very glad to see you, 
we are just taking a little lunch, preparatory to start- 
ing out, won’t you join us, and eat something ?” 
“ Yes, yes, mine heber freund,” joins in Hans, “ koom, 
sitzen sie hier, und etwas zu essen haben.” 
* For Heaven’s sake,” exclaims Jim anxiously, “ don’t 
talk Dutch to the boy, or you will frighten him away ; 
he don’t understand you.” 
The boy smiled and sat down, began slowly eating, 
casting quizzical glances at his hosts, as if wondering 
what next. 
“What nice ducks you have, and so large, perfect 
beauties, you must be an excellent shot,” said Jim. 
“Tll pet you he vas a dandy,” chipped in Hans. 
* You can dell it py the color of his eye. He looks vie 
Shurman poys, like they look in Shurmany. Half you 
effer pen in Shurmany, young man? No? Then you 
half neffer lived; go there, und grow mit the gountry 
up. Dot’s the poss blace. I vish I vas dere now.” 
Then his sweet tenor voice started: “Das ist der 
