A FLORIDA KID ON A CAMP HUNT. 



189 



that wu2 dried. 'Bout 3 o'clock pa split 

 th' big gobbler in 2, so hit 'ud go in 

 our bakin' skillet, an' put a little water in 

 with hit, an' set hit on th' coals. He 

 kep' a little water in hit till hit began ter 

 git tender, an' then he taken some thin 

 slashes uv bacon, an' laid on top uv th' 

 turkey, an' let the water cook nearly 

 out, an' when th' meat wuz nice an' 

 brown, he taken hit out an' put a little 

 flour in th' turkey juice, an' made gravy 

 that 'ud make anybody water at th' mouth 

 jest ter smell hit. By that time Mr. Sam 

 had a pan uv biskets cooked up, th' purtiest 

 I ever seen. Ever' one had a little brown 

 spot on top, jest alike. We set down to 

 hit a little after dark, an' I won't say much 

 'bout it, cause I've done talked too much 

 already 'bout eatin', but I'm bliged ter say 

 hit jest natchelly laid over anythin' I ever 

 set down to before. 



After supper they got ter tellin' huntin' 



tales. Uncle Dick sez one time when he 

 was 'bout 16 er 17 him an' another man 

 wuz a trappin' an' one day they wuz a 

 paddlin' up a creek through a big ham- 

 mock in their canoes with th' other feller 

 in th' lead. That feller happened ter see 

 an ole buzzard a settin' on a limb, an' 

 bein' a sorter funny feller, he grabbed 'is 

 gun an' shot th' buzzard, an' hollered, "I've 

 shot a turkey ! I've shot a turkey ! hurry, 

 Dick, an' git 'im. He's only cripp'led." 

 Uncle Dick sez he like ter busted hisself a 

 paddlin' ashore an' a dashin' up th' bank, 

 an' when he'd busted through th' bushes, 

 there weren't nothin' but an ole turkey 

 buzzard. Uncle Dick sez th' feller like to 

 have killed hisself a laughin', but pa sez 

 hit wuz a shame ter kill th' pore ole buz 

 zard fer nothin'. Pa hates ter see anythin' 

 killed that ain't uv no use. I went ter 

 sleep studyin' 'bout turkeys, an' dreamt I 

 killed one big's a steer. 



AMATEUR PHOTO BY R C. W. LETT 



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