My Boyhood and Youth 



When she got within a dozen yards or so of 

 the shanty, she announced her approach by a 

 peculiar call, and the sleeping kittens immedi- 

 ately bounced up and ran to meet her, all racing 

 for the first bite of they knew not what, and we 

 too ran to see what she brought. She then lay 

 down a few minutes to rest and enjoy the en- 

 joyment of her feasting family, and again van- 

 ished in the grass and flowers, coming and going 

 every half-hour or so. Sometimes she brought 

 in birds that we had never seen before, and 

 occasionally a flying squirrel, chipmunk, or 

 big fox squirrel. We were just old enough, 

 David and I, to regard all these creatures as 

 wonders, the strange inhabitants of our new 

 world. 



The pup was a common cur, though very un- 

 common to us, a black and white short-haired 

 mongrel that we named "Watch." We always 

 gave him a pan of milk in the evening just 

 before we knelt in family worship, while day- 

 light still lingered in the shanty. And, instead 

 of attending to the prayers, I too often studied 

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