JOHN, "THE TALKER." 149 



This "John," who had fallen to my lot, was a singular 

 character. lie was absolutely la/y and useless about camp. 

 Very likely he would have fro/en and starved before he 

 would have chopped wood for the night or prepared a 

 breakfast. But lie was as willing and free to row all day 

 as the best of guides. The last thing at night, beforegoing 

 to bed, he would come to me and ask, " Don't you want 

 to try Hie fishing before breakfast ?" 



" Don't can; if I do, John; what time shall we start?" 

 " Five o'clock, or half-past, if you say so." 

 "All right, John. Call me, and I'm on hand." 

 At the appointed minute, in the morning, I would feel 

 his touch and sec hi- ^oture; and creeping out of the hut 

 M healthily as he had entered it. without wakening a man, 

 I followed him to the shore. Once in the boat lie became 

 "The Talker." In a drawling, half audible lone he slowly 

 talked on and on and on, all day long, of his hunting and 

 trapping and the wonderful alVairs of which he had been a 

 great part. His special theme, upon which he delighted 

 to dwell at all times, was his " pardner," the hunter whose 

 hut we were occupying. It did no good to interrupt him, 

 or to request him to be silent, lie was sure to find occasion 

 and excuse for renewing his everla^t inu' drawl in a low tone. 

 His good nature and kindness, however, totally disarmed 

 my indignation; but many a time I stepped on shore, after 

 two or three hours of this Talker's alllictive society, with a 

 sense of relief. I learned wisdom from this experience, and 

 a burnt child would no sooner put his hand on a red-hot 



