48o THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY, 



a tough job, I tell you. I bad to walk backward, and be pulled 

 against me like a frightened horse. I gained a little, slowly, and after 

 a bit got on the high ground. Then I felt more at ease and took a 

 rest. I couldn't take him home, of course, in the same fashion, but I 

 had a chance to let him loose, and rest my hands. How I looked 

 'round for a bit of rope to bridle him ! It was no use, though, and 

 after all I was likely to lose him altogether. After a minute's think- 

 in', it occurred to me I'd make a hobble out of my shirt and then slip 

 home lively for the right sort of tackle. ♦ I wasn't long in gettin' the 

 shirt off, and I twisted it into a sort of rope and hobbled him with it. 

 It was a desperate, odd-lookin' turtle when I got through, and I 

 laughed at him a bit as I turned toward the house. You see, I left 

 him on his back, and his legs bound so he couldn't use 'em to turn 

 over. I skipped pretty lively, I tell you, for that mile or so twixt me 

 and home, and was in a good glow when I got in. Hettie looked kind 

 o' scared when she saw me, but I put her mind to rest in two words, 

 and soon was on my way back. A bit of rope and my sheath-knife 

 was all I needed. I skipped over the fields pretty lively, and was soon 

 again in sight. Now, I don't think it was an hour, by some minutes, 

 before I was back on the high meadow, but, by gracious ! it don't 

 take long for scenes to change in natur' any more than it does in a 

 theatre. Of all queer sights, that was the funniest I saw when I got 

 back. The turtle had got half free of my old red shirt, and was pawin' 

 the air like mad, tryin' to get on his feet again. I could see that 

 much a long way off, and put on extra speed ; but when I was about 

 fifty yards off I stopped short. There was that turtle wrapped in my 

 shirt, and a pesky skunk sort of standin' guard over him. Now, I hate 

 skunks ! They don't pay to trap, and they rob my hen-roost every 

 winter. I was afraid to frighten him, too, for fear he'd spoil my snap- 

 per, and I wanted the value of a shirt out of the turtle, if nothin' more. 

 I walked a bit nearer, to make sure of how matters stood, and it was 

 clear as day, the skunk thought he had a good thing of it, if he could 

 only kill that snapper. I thought the same way, and didn't want to 

 be bettered by a pesky skunk. I made up my mind to jockey about 

 it, a little ; and so, first, heaved a stone at the critter. It gave me a 

 look and started on a slow trot, but it was all up with me, sure enough. 

 He shook that thunderin' old brush right at the turtle and — well ! if 

 he didn't sicken the snapper, he did me, that's certain. I stood the 

 racket a bit, though, and tried to move the snapper, but it was no use ; 

 I couldn't keep at it long enough to do anything, and don't believe it 

 would have amounted to much anyhow. I got a stick and put the 

 snapper on his feet, as well as I could, without touchin' him, and he 

 waddled off for the mucky meadow, with most of my shirt still stickin' 

 to him, and plunged into the ditch as soon as he could." 



" So you lost the turtle after all," I remarked in a low tone, not 

 feeling sure I had heard the last of the story. 



