THE BACKWOODSMAN'S STOEY. 121 



stories were always favorites of mine, and we are in no 

 hurry to get through our meal, having plenty of time that 

 cannot be more profitably employed than eating leisurely, 

 thereby making ^ligestion easier. When I have a horse 

 that bolts his feed, as if he were afraid of losing his oats 

 before he could eat them, I always place a large straight 

 bib in his mouth, which compels him to better mastication. 

 When I am too much hurried, I postpone eating till the 

 hurry is past. 



PUPIL. Here goes, then, for 



KEPLER'S STORY* 



" Fifteen years ago this fall, five on us started out on a 

 bar hunt, and we fixed our camp a little lower on the crick. 

 While we wur makin' our cabin, Sam Kurtz, one of our 

 best hunters, said he would go up the hill and kill a ven- 

 zon, that we might have something fresh for our first sup- 

 per. Sun was near about an hour high, and it wan't long 

 till we heerd the crack o' Sam's rifle. By-and-bye we 

 heored it agin, and we wondered some, as we knew he 

 never missed, and one blue coat was all we wanted at a 

 time. We kept busy on our work, lookin' every ininnit 

 for Sam to come in with his deer, as it was only a little 

 way off where he shot. Not comin' we hollod, but couldn't 

 get eny answer. This kind o' skeerd me, and I was afraid 

 something had happened. I jest told the other three to 

 keep on, I'd go and help him to bring in the meat. I 

 shouldered my rifle and started for where I heerd the 

 shots. Afore long, I struck his track and followed it up 

 the brow of the hill. Directly I found a young painter 

 cub shot right through and through ; he laid in a little 

 thicket of beech staddles, and right on t'other side of it 

 there laid another. This made me step mighty keerful 

 and look well to the priming of my rifle. Pretty quick I 



