250 DUCK-SHOOTING. 



kept on sinking, I had to own up that I was afraid, 

 and then he only laughed louder than ever. 



" My feelings were beyond description — fury does 

 not adequately describe my rage ; but fear so tem- 

 pered it, that I seemed to change suddenly from 

 the extreme of heat to the extreme of cold. I 

 would begin by swearing at him, and end by im- 

 ploring ; I begged, cursed, prayed, and raved. 

 Overcome by his unrestrained delight, at last I 

 threatened — pouring out upon him the vilest abuse, 

 and dire menaces of what I would do when I did 

 get out. The prospect of that, however, rapidly 

 diminished — the nasty, slimy mud rose by percep- 

 tible degrees — and then he made me take back all 

 my threats and apologize to him. In the agony of 

 my returning terror, he actually made me beg his 

 pardon. 



" When, however, hope was nearly over with me, 

 he slowly, with maddening deliberation, took a I'ail 

 from the nearest fence, and, interspersing the opera- 

 tion with much improving advice, began to pry me 

 out. As I rose towards the upper world my courage 

 returned, and my revenge was merely waiting till 

 my body touched terra firma to take ample amends. 

 Even that satisfaction was destined to disappoint- 

 ment ; for when I was so far out, tliat with the aid 

 of the rail I could help myself, he dropped it, and, 

 suspecting my intention, he scuttled off as fast as 

 his black legs would carry him. 



"What an object I presented after effecting my 

 escape — from head to foot one mass of mud; my 



