jes one time in de yhear fer no udder kin' of 

 meat but possum, an' dat time, boy, am de time 

 ter gib thanks." 



Though not exactly sure of the precise mean- 

 ing of Uncle Jethro's words, I was duly apolo- 

 getic, and instant with my promise to bring 

 forth a big, fat possum for his Thanksgiving 

 dinner. 



We had finished the shock and I had gone 

 ahead, broken the binding on the next one and 

 pushed it over, while Uncle Jethro was kicking 

 the stray ears into the pile. 



As the stalks tumbled I looked down to see 

 the mice run, when, to my astonishment, I saw, 

 curled up in a bed of corn-blades, an enormous 

 possum. He had taken the shock of stalks for 

 his winter home, and made his nest at its very 

 center, snug and warm and weather-proof. 



He half uncurled, yawned, and blinked as the 

 glaring light burst upon him, but showed no 

 sign of surprise nor evinced the least intention 

 of getting up. It was very inconvenient, dis- 

 tressing indeed, to have one's house pulled down 

 like this. Would n't I be gentleman enough to 

 spare him his bed! 



[202] 



