As we came under the persimmon-trees at the 

 foot of Lupton's Pond, the moon was high enough 

 to show us that no possum had been here yet, 

 for there was abundance of the luscious, frost- 

 nipped fruit upon the ground. In the bare trees 

 the persimmons hung like silver beads. We 

 stopped to gather a few, when Calamity woke 

 the woods with her cry. 



"Dar he is ! C'lamity done got oF man pos- 

 sum now ! Down by de bend ! Dat 's possum- 

 talk, big talk, fat talk ! " And we hurried after 

 the dog. 



We had gone half a mile, and Uncle Jethro 

 had picked himself up at least three times, when 

 I protested. 



"Uncle Jeth ! " I cried, "that 's an awfully 

 long-legged possum. He '11 run all his fat off 

 before we catch him." 



"Dat 's so, boy, shu' 'nough ! W'at dat ol' 

 fool dog tree a long-legged possum fo', nohow? 

 Yer, C'lamity, 'lamity, yer, yer ! " he yelled, as 

 the hound doubled and began to track the rahhit 

 back toward us. 



We were thoroughly cooled before Calamity 

 appeared. She was boxed on the ear and sent 

 [14] 



