196 



RECREATION. 



"Never will I return without a trophy," 

 she cried. "Let us go on, and I'll bet 

 I make the first kill." 



"Done," I said, "a box of gloves 

 against " 



My voice broke, my heart beat wildly. 

 With a stolen glance Genevieve read the 

 secret I so long had hidden. What fer- 

 vent protestations I should have made I 

 know not, for at that instant she grasped 

 my arm convulsively and whispered, "Look ! 

 what is that?" Following the direction in- 

 dicated by her taper finger I indistinctly 

 saw a dark object in the top of a towering 

 pine. 



"A coon, is it not?" asked my fair friend. 



Little as I could distinguish of the ani- 

 mal I knew it was not a coon, for, instead 

 of the rat-like tail of that quadruped, I 

 could make out a long furry brush, which 

 might belong to either a fox or a chuck ; 

 but being a close observer of the habits of 

 game, I had noticed that foxes are partial 

 to other than coniferous trees,. Still, with 

 the true modesty of the earnest nature 

 student, I hesitated to express my opinion. 

 I said nothing. What was more to the pur- 

 pose, I chivalrously determined to give my 

 companion a killing shot. With that in 

 view, I poured a few ounces of buckshot 

 into my hammerless and hastily rammed 

 them home, intending with that light load 

 to sting the beast into venturing farther 

 out on the branch, thus giving Genevieve a 

 better chance. Not comprehending my in- 

 tention she laughed joyously when I fired 

 and the creature moved into plain 'view. 

 With an archly audacious air of triumph 

 she raised and discharged her Topper. A 

 howl of agony followed ; a great animal 

 crashed through the branches, fell at our 



feet and lay snarling viciously. It was, 

 as I had divined, a woodchuck, and the 

 giant of its species. Fortunately it was 

 too badly wounded to attack us, and a 

 second shot from Genevieve's 8-bore put 

 it humanely out of misery. 



As we wended our homeward way 

 through the darkened forest 'arches Gene- 

 vieve murmured sweetly: "Don't forget, 

 Montmorency, that I won the gloves." 



Falling on my knees, I seized her tiny 

 hand. "But I," I cried passionately, "what 

 do I win?" 



"How do I know," she answered coyly. 

 "Papa is croupier for that game. Ask 

 him." 



On the first anniversary of our memor- 

 able hunt I was seated in the pink draw- 

 ing room at Doddhurst. On the great 

 woodchuck skin before the blazing hearth 

 Genevieve reclined in an attitude calculated 

 to display to advantage the resources of her 

 coutouriere. Beside her, half hidden in the 

 long fleecy fur of the trophy and gurgling 

 sweetly, lay Montmorency, junior. Lifting 

 her eye with pensive air, Genevieve said: 



"I have been thinking, dear " 



"Have you?" I cried, with proper sur- 

 prise. 



"Yes, love," she replied. "I have been 

 thinking you ought to write the story of 

 our engagement hunt and" — more softly, 

 while the roses spread from her cheeks 

 o'er all her charming face, and young Mont- 

 morency cooed — "and its result." 



"And what should I do with it?" I in- 

 quired. 



"Why. send it to Woodlot and Pasture, 

 the World Behind the Barn, or some other 

 of those journals that just dote on really 

 truly nature stories. 



A PENNSYLVANIA FREAK. 



I enclose you photo of freak antlers of 



a Pennsylvania red deer killed in this 



county about 8 years ago; 2 curved beams, 



no branches ; the beams are 18 inches long. 



Geo. B. Dechant, Renovo/ Pa. 





A CONFESSION. 



Mrs. Haterson — Do you think it proper to 

 bow to a man in a club window? 



Mrs. Catterson — That depends. It's the 

 only chance I have to recognize my hus- 

 band. — Harper's Bazar. 



AMATEUR PHOTO BY CLYDE T. DECHANT, 



There was a man in our town, 

 And he was wondrous wise. 



He jumped into a monstrous deal 

 That stood on massive lies. 



And when he saw the game v.^s up, 

 With all his might and main, 



He loaded stock on trusting friends 

 And jumped right out again. 



—Life. 



