2o6 



RECREATION, 



" skunk killer," we got the cat in the sack, 

 all right, and hit the trail for home. 



We had plenty of fun with the wild cat, 

 but it was more fun watching the suckers 

 on the hills, a mile beyond. " The woods 

 were full of 'em " — men and boys on horse- 

 back, looking for the mountain lion we had 

 told them of. 



We hurried on so as to get out of sight 

 before they saw us. Old Kodunk was in 

 the lead, pushing his horse along as fast 

 as he dared, down the steep trail, when all 

 at once, just as we reached the bottom, we 

 saw something on the trail, just ahead, 

 coming our way. 



"What is it?" I asked. 



" Wonder if it's branded," said Kodunk. 

 The skunk killer laughed and looked kind 

 of surprised, but seemed to know what " it " 

 was as soon as he saw it. 



From what he told me afterward I judged 

 they were quite common where he came 

 from. Don't think they even took the 

 trouble to brand 'em. " It " proved to be 

 a young professor, fresh from Oberlin Col- 

 lege. He was out here for his health; 

 growing a new lining on the inside of his 

 breathing box. He was one of your high 

 toned young ducks, and wore a silk hat, 

 a white neck tie and gold rim eye glasses 

 — one of the kind that sleeps on a diction- 

 ary and covers himself with a grammar. 

 He fired a whole charge of proper lan- 

 guage into us, before wc had a chance to 

 pull a gun or get under cover. 



" Pardon me gentlemen; I km informed 

 you have been fortunate enough to pro- 

 cure a catamount, alive, and if it would 

 not inconvenience you too much it would 

 afford me great pleasure to be allowed to 

 inspect the specimen." 



Kodunk looked at " it," as if he felt sorry 

 for it. Then he fired back, 



"Well! Young feller, I don't know 

 nothin' 'bout ' procurin' cat-ermounts ' 

 but if you want to see a big Rocky moun- 

 tain bob cat just shed your goggles a bit 

 and peep into this here, sack when I tie 

 'er loose." 



The professor flushed up a little, but I 

 think he wanted to see the cat pretty bad; 

 for he didn't get mad. He only said some- 

 thing about " being able to retain perfect 

 vision through his lenses " and " wishing 

 to write little episodes of Western life to 

 his friends East," and some other such 

 guff, I didn't just catch on to; but I reck- 



oned he'd get his fill of " episode " before 

 he got through with Kody and the wild 

 cat. So I draws off to one side and waits 

 for the circus to begin. Then Old Kodunk 

 lets.up on the rope and the professor stoops 

 over and peeps into the sack. 



Then there was an instantaneous expos- 

 ure, for about the one-hundredth part of a 

 second. A big paw hit the air and we saw 

 a silk hat playing tag with a pair of gold 

 rim eye glasses, in the sunbeams above our 

 heads. Then Old Kodunk pulled the sack 

 together again. 



I wanted to laugh, but out of respect to 

 the stranger from the East I kept still, while 

 Old Kodunk draws himself up, looking so- 

 ber as a judge, and says, by way of apol- 

 ogy: 



" I forgot to tell you, stranger, that bob 

 cats is kind of suddent like." 



We left the professor sitting on a rock, 

 wiping the dust from his " lenses," and I 

 guess he's there yet, for we haven't seen 

 him around town since. 



Old Kodunk and the skunk killer took 

 charge of the cat, while I went to the store 

 to develop my pictures. 



I rocked the tray gently back and forth, 

 according to directions, and waited. Then 

 I rocked some more, and waited again; 

 but nothing appeared on the plates. Then 

 another rock and I began to think hard 

 things about photography; but I kept on 

 rocking till I was satisfied something was 

 out of gear. I got mad and fired the whole 

 outfit in the trash barrel. Then I went out 

 of my dark room, into the store, and made 

 some impolite remarks, not necessarily for 

 publication but as an evidence of good 

 faith. These remarks were addressed to 

 the boys who mixed the developer for me. 

 Or rather they hadn't mixed it; for inves- 

 tigation proved they had left out the sul- 

 phite of soda! Had I been a photog- 

 rapher, instead of an amateur, as soon as 

 I found something wrong I should have 

 covered my plates, mixed new developer, 

 gone to work anew, and got my nega- 

 tive all right; but unfortunately I was only 

 an amateur, learning by experience, and 

 that experience cost me my picture — and 

 the Recreation prize. 



Moral (for amateurs and college profess- 

 ors only): Mix your own developer, and 

 don't look in the sack just because Old 

 Kodunk tells you to. He's a tricky old 

 cuss. 



" The pitch of that roof," said the architect friend, 



" Is not enough by a foot or more." 

 But the sun came out, and the pitch on the roof 



Dropped onto his neck, and the architect swore. 



— Cincinnati Tribune. 



