Redruff 



yellow cur, the mother spied the dog and cried 

 out, ' Kwit! kwitr (Fly, fly). Two of the 

 brood thought it a pity their mother should lose 

 her wits so easily over a fox, and were pleased 

 to show their superior nerve by springing into a 

 tree in spite of her earnestly repeated ' Kwit f 

 kwit/' and her example of speeding away on 

 silent wings. 



Meanwhile, the strange bob-tailed fox came 

 under the tree and yapped and yapped at them. 

 They were much amused at him and at their 

 mother and brothers, so much so that they 

 never noticed a rustling in the bushes till there 

 was a loud Bang / bang ! and down fell two 

 bloody, flopping partridges, to be seized and 

 mangled by the yellow cur until the gunner ran 

 from the bushes and rescued the remains. 



Ill 



Cuddy lived in a wretched shanty near the 

 Don, north of Toronto. His was what Greek 

 philosophy would have demonstrated to be an 

 ideal existence. He had no wealth, no taxes, 

 no social pretensions, and no property to speak 



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