Where Silence Is Eloquent 



the dogs, which were asleep in their kennel some 

 distance away. For a time all was quiet as only 

 a winter dawn can be; but as we sat down to 

 breakfast one of the hounds with a big bass voice 

 suddenly broke out in an earth-shaking jubilation. 

 The other hounds quickly caught up the clamor, 

 yelling as if they had just jumped a fox, while two 

 dogs of another breed were strangely silent; and 

 then Toleon added his bit to the tumult by 

 stamping, whinnying and finally kicking lustily 

 on the boards of his stall. Toleon, by the way, 

 was an old white horse that Uncle used to ride 

 (he was "gittin' too rheumaticky," he said, to 

 hunt with me afoot), and this sober beast was fair 

 crazy to join the chase whenever a fox was afoot. 

 The negro paid no attention to the noise ; but as 

 it went on increasing, and Toleon whinnyed more 

 wildly, and the big-voiced hound kept up a con- 

 tinuous bellow that might have roused the seven 

 sleepers, the unseemly racket got on my nerves, 

 so early in the day. 



'What the mischief is the matter with Jum 

 this morning?" I demanded. 



"Matter? Mischief?" echoed Uncle, as if sur- 

 prised I did not understand such plain animal 

 talk. "Why, ol' Jum's a-gwine fox-huntin' dis 

 mawny. He reckons he knows what we-all's up 

 to: and now de yother dawgs an' Toleon dey 



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