ON THE 'POSSUM'S TRAIL 85 



"Uncle Jeth!" I called, as calmly as I knew 

 how. "Uncle Jeth, would you mind if I brought 

 you that Thanksgiving 'possum to-day?" 



"Mind, child, mind?" he chuckled. "Old 

 Jethro shutting his door on Br'er 'Possum? 

 Fetch him up, honey, fetch him up. Jethro will 

 take him in." 



"Well, how will this one do?" I exclaimed, 

 catching the 'possum, with a quick grab, by the 

 tail and, as Uncle Jethro started toward me, lift- 

 ing him up fairly under the old man's nose. 



"De golden chariot am a-coming!" gasped Un- 

 cle Jethro, jumping back, his unbelieving eyes 

 bulging half out of his head. " 'Possum! You 

 is de beatenes' boy, you is." 



No, I had not been hunting last night and hid- 

 den the 'possum here as a surprise. I had not 

 played a joke upon Uncle Jethro, as he himself 

 saw immediately on examining the creature's bed. 



The great fat fellow had slept in that bed more 

 than one night, and that within sight of the house, 

 and directly along our beaten path to the woods. 

 Fifty times, at least, the dog had passed this 

 shock of corn, had run round it, had sniffed at it, 

 doubtless, and gone on, while that 'possum slept 

 peacefully inside. 



