156 Old Days on the Farm 



NO SUOH WORD AS ''fAIL" 



In the lexicon of a real live ^Coon-Hunters* 

 Club there is no such word as ''Fail." Through 

 numerous dewy fields of third growth alfalfa the 

 hunters took their way, also across ploughed fields 

 where the going was muddy and tiring. Their 

 objective was another corn patch. 



"Where's that fair-haired young banker?" 

 asked the Chief as he ran his eye over his follow- 

 ers. A young banker from a neighbouring town 

 had been invited to join in the hunt and had ac- 

 cepted without hesitation. 



Everybody looked but found him not. 



"He's gone and followed a cow most likely, for 

 I heard him say a while ago that he was hungry 

 for a drink of milk," said Jack Fleming. 



"Scatter, ye minions, and find that lost boy," 

 shouted the Chief. "But say," he continued, be- 

 fore they had time to move, "can any of you say 

 whether this is a concession or a sideroad? If you 

 can't, b'gosh, I think the whole outfit is lost." 



"Eight here where we're standin' is the six- 

 teenth concession," volunteered Jo Thompson; 

 "you can't fool me on country roads about this 

 neck of the woods." 



"Ah, gwan, yer stringin' us, Jo, this is a side- 

 road, there's burdocks growin' along this track 

 that would pull a fellow out of his wagon," poured 

 from Sam Peters. 



There under the glimmering stars, for half an 



