AN OCTOBER DIARY. 293 



bein' old Quaker stock, he thought a deal of good livin', 

 but didn't saj much. Fact is, good livin' seems to be a 

 sort of understood necessity among Quakers, which they 

 practise but don't preach. But the boys didn't see it in 

 the same way at all. They'd just as lief stuck to plainer 

 meat, and carried out a plan of sellin' the quails to Ben 

 South, up at the tavern ; and didn't feel so sure of 

 sixpence apiece, if they got into the home kitchen. I 

 don't remember how it turned out, but next day tliey 

 were at it again, and just at the same time down came 

 the quails; but when they got up to the trap, they ate 

 all round it, and then one old bird flew up on the door 

 and whistled 'not quite,' and away they flew. How 

 father laughed, and the boys somehow wandered off, 

 without sayiu' nothin' to nobody. After that, we could 

 only catch quails by hair snoods." 



When Miles concluded his narrative I endeavored to 

 turn his attention to other matters, by a bewildering 

 broadside of point-blank questions. 



One of these was concerning wild turkeys. 



" No, I never saw wild turkeys about here ; but they 

 were common, in my young days, up in the mountains; 

 but I've often heard my father say that when he was 

 young, along about 1800, the turkeys often came out of 

 the swamps and ate the young corn ; sometimes doin' a 

 good deal of damage; but they were so much hunted 

 that they took to the big woods, up in the mountains, 

 and left these parts." 



" Then in the Indian times, I suppose, they were com- 

 mon," I remarked. 

 , "Must liave been, from what I've heard. Father 



