THE SMUDGE. — PU>-KY: 23 



murky air environed ils, languor subdued us, and we were 

 content to throw ourselves down ujxjn the grass. Forth- 

 with a haz}' cloud gathered around my head, I e-\i>erienced 

 burning .sensations on my hands, wrlst.s, face and neck. 

 My ears seemed aflame. Was I sick? Had "prickly 

 heat " attacked me? Did I need a doctor? I endeavore^l 

 to scjlve the mystery of the haze. I looked earne.-^tlyat my 

 hands, and discovered winged atoms of noLseless flight, 

 countless in numlKT'^; — dull sparks with wings, that settled 

 quietly down upon me by the hundred and then hnnud. 

 I had not ]>een told of the phenomenon, and it was a reve- 

 lation. Burn! burn! burn! How they burned! I was 

 almo.^^t frantic. I appealed to Ben.s<jn again; "What is 

 this. — this — these confounded things that I can't see but 

 which liite so horribly r" 



" Punky ! my boy, — the no-see em.s — the 'cutest little 

 wretches in their line that this country' up here produces. 

 They dont sound any horn when they go to business. Oh, 

 you'll get used to 'em. They're not bad. Tar-oil will fix 

 em all right. And there's where the bemity of the.'^mudge 

 comes in." 



" But I can't endure it. " said I. slapping my face, ruljliing 

 my ears and hopping uIkjuI in a transjwrt of nervous 

 inita])ility. 



"Well, you just ni>h into that smudge, and the punkies 

 will leave you fast enough." 



So I rushed. The tierce little gnats left me. The low 

 smouldering lire in the kettle s(^>nt up chnuls of half fragrant 

 and pungent smoke, which seemed for an instant as lu.\u- 



