112 WILD BPOKTS IN THE SOUTH. 



Mike picked up the fallen deer's head and examined 

 it closely. 



" Why, Lon, child, I never heard of your dressing ani- 

 mals," said Jackson. 



" Nor I, flxther, until to-day." 



" What are you going to do with it ?" 



"Make it as correct as I can, and then hang it over 

 the front door until I can make a better one. The orna- 

 ment is the Doctor's idea." 



" The head is as correctly dressed as it can be," said 

 the Doctor. " Don't you think so, Mike ?" 



" Wall — no, I don't," answered the literal hunter. 



" What is it that is wrong, Mike ? It must be in the 

 setting it up, for you cleaned it for me yourself." 



" It moit be one, and it moit be the t'other ; but I 

 guess it's some of both. Yer see the hair ain't over 

 slick — that's my fault. Wall, arter that yer've got the 

 eyes a lookm' for'ard, and the head well u^), ain't that 

 so ?" 



" Yes," said Miss Jackson, leaning forward. 



"Wall, then," continued her instructor, takmg the 

 deer's head on his knee and illustrating his position with 

 his fingers, " he's a makin' out somethin' ahead of him, 

 and he'll have his ears for'ard to help him, one on 'em 

 anyhow." 



" That's true," replied the pupil, with a glance of plea- 

 sure, taking the deer's head in her hand and pulling out 

 the wires by which the ears were supported. 



" That's the natur' of a deer. I one'st went to Char- 



