JOTHAM STORIES 205 



those days they used to come in there and some- 

 times pack it solid full. You could hardly see 

 the pond for the ducks in it. Grandfather al- 

 ways knew just the right day to go, and this time 

 when 'he looked down on the pond from the hill 

 he saw hardly any water at all, nothing much 

 but ducks. It was the chance of his life. He 

 slipped down the hill among the scrubs to the 

 cedars and then began to creep carefully up. 

 You know what the pond is like, perfectly round 

 and only a couple of acres or so, with a rim of 

 marsh and then another big rim of swamp 

 cedars, then the hills all about, neither inlet nor 

 outlet; a queer pond anyway and queer things 

 happen on it, same as they did that day. Grand- 

 father had got half way through the swamp 

 cedars when he came to a little opening which he 

 had to cross. Just then there came up on the 

 east wind a big flock of telltales, 762 of them, 

 whirling over the hills without a sound till they 

 saw him. Then they began to yelp." 



"Look here, Jotham," I am always careful to 

 say at this point, "How could he tell that there 

 were just 762 of them? He couldn't count so 

 many as they flew." 



"Didn't have to count 'em as they flew," 



