H 



RECREATION. 



of cord, tipped him over, knelt with one 

 knee on his head and the other on his 

 body, and tied his front legs. 



John, meanwhile, had got up, and was 

 limping along to get his rifle. The first 

 thing he thought of, after the edge of the 

 pain was off, was whether the rifle was in- 

 jured. It was without a scratch, for it had 

 fallen on soft grass. John was the sort of 

 fellow who would not give in to pain. He 

 said he was all right, but I could see he was 

 hurt. However, after sitting down awhile 

 he insisted that we go on to the shooting 

 match. I unfastened the ram's front legs, 

 and taking his hind legs, trundled him 

 along, wheelbarrow fashion. We got to 

 Withington's after a while, and I fastened 

 the ram in the sheep pen. We called at the 

 house to see Withington, but he was away. 

 I told Mrs. Withington the facts in the 

 case, and added that I was afraid my friend 

 was hurt worse than his grit would let 

 him acknowledge. I asked if we might 

 have a horse and buggy and Mrs. Withing- 

 ton consented. 



We found a motley crowd assembled at 

 the range. There were boys with cheap 

 rifles, and men of all ages, with arms of 

 about every degree of poorness and excel- 

 lence. In spite of John's grit he was un- 

 able to walk without a bad limp, and this 

 soon drew the query as to how he got hurt. 

 His hurt did not affect his shooting, or 

 his skill at making bull's-eyes, and the 

 beauty of his rifle brought a crowd of 

 lookers-on. They were greatly interested 

 in the ammunition, for, although the bullet 

 was small, and the powder of little bulk, it 

 shot, in John's hands, better than their 

 heavy charges. They championed him 

 strongly in the matter of the ram, and 

 were loud in their statements of what 

 they would do if they had been in our 

 place. 



"Why," said one old grandfather, "that 

 Zeke Withington haint no right on airth to 

 let his cattle 'n sheep run in the public road. 

 You orter shot that ram right then an' 

 there, an' he never could 'a touched ye fer 

 it. What's more, you've got a case agin 

 him fer heavy damages. You just sue him 

 fer $5,000 an' larn him a lesson." 



"That's right," said half a dozen around 

 us. The village lawyer edged his way up, 

 and offered to take the case. 



"You've got a clear case, gentlemen, and 

 if you want to trust it to me, I'll guarantee 

 you good money out of it." 



We refused his offer, and John said he 

 thought he should let the matter drop. 



When we got back with the horse and 

 buggy Withinarton had returned. There 

 was a snap in his eyes that told us he had 

 received the news from his wife, and con- 

 sidered that henceforth we were to meet 

 as foes. John was as pleasant as usual. 



"I suppose you heard from your wife," 

 he said, "that your ram assaulted us this 

 morning, on the road?" 



"Yes," said Withington; "and I sup- 

 pose you'll have Lawyer Gibbs, down to the 

 village?" 



"No," said John, "I shall not sue." 

 Withington looked as if he wondered what 

 kind of trick John would play. 



"You and I have been good friends, 

 Withington, and, as far as I am concerned, 

 we shall remain so." 



Withington soon became like his for- 

 mer self, and we left on the best of terms; 

 yet, I had a suspicion that he thought there 

 was a screw loose somewhere, and that he 

 might yet get a rap when he was off his 

 guard. The spirit of revenge was inbred 

 in him, and in every one of the men there- 

 about we had chanced to meet, and he 

 found anything different hard to believe. 



The next to the last day of our vacation 

 arrived, and we decided to go gunning. 

 We went through a stretch of oak woods 

 near the brow of a long hill above the pas- 

 ture. We thought we ought to find some 

 grey squirrels there, and perhaps a few 

 ruffed grouse, but although we kept very 

 quiet and exercised our utmost skill, we 

 did not see or hear a thing larger than 

 small birds. We did not even fire our 

 rifles, and went home saying it was the 

 poorest afternoon's hunting we had had. 



The next morning we went over to bid 

 goodbye to our neighbor to the South. The 

 first thing he said to us was, 



"Well, boys, that was big game you got 

 yesterday," and he gave us a wink. We 

 thought it was his joke on our not getting 

 any game, and wondered how he knew. 



"Yes," said I, "so big we could not get 

 it home." 



"How'd ye shoot it," he asked. "Acci- 

 dental ?" and he winked again and 

 grinned. 



"Shoot what?" said John. 



"Why, Zeke's sheep. Haint ye heerd 

 about it ?" with a broader grin. 



"No," said I, "we not only have not 

 heard about it, but we didn't shoot it." 



"O, go 'way ! You needn't be afraid of 

 me." 



"Tell us about it," said John. 



"Why," said the farmer, "last night about 

 sundown, when the sheep come home to the 

 pen, Zeke an' his man, who were standin' 

 by the pen, noticed one of 'em was sick. It 

 was kind er totterin' along, and pretty soon 

 it laid down. Zeke, he went up to it, and it 

 was dead, so quick. He turned it over, and 

 ther warn't no mark on it nowhere, so they 

 cut it up to see what the matter was with 

 it. They found one o' your queer little 

 holler bullets in its vitals. Must have been 

 shot within half an hour of when it died, 

 so it must have come straight from the 



