132 
LETTERS FROM ALABAMA. 
instinct. There is a sharp short crack, and a line 
of fire ; a little cloud of smoke rises perpendicularly 
upwards ; an unmerciful shout of derision hails the 
unlucky marksman, for the candle is still twinkling 
dimly and redly as before. Another confidently 
succeeds ; the light is suddenly extinguished ; his 
ball has cut it off just below the flame. This won’t 
do ; the test of skill is to snuff candle, without 
putting it out. 
A third now steps up ; it is my friend Jones, the 
overseer on the plantation where I am residing ; he 
is a crack shot, and we all expect something superb 
now. The marker has replaced the lighted candle ; 
it is allowed to burn a few minutes until the wick 
has become long. The dimness of the light at 
length announces its readiness, and the marker 
cries Fire! ” A moment’s breathless silence fol- 
lows the flash and the report ; a change was seen 
to pass upon the distant gleam, and the dull red 
light has suddenly become white and sparkling. 
Right good!” cries the marker; the ball has 
passed through the centre of the flame and snuffed 
the candle,” and whoops and shouts of applause ring 
through the field, and echo from the surrounding 
forest. This extraordinary feat is usually performed 
two or three times in every contest of skill. 
A common exploit is ^‘barking off ” a squirrel. 
My worthy friend Major Vanner, the other day, at 
my request, performed this. A couple of fox- 
squirrels were playing far up on a towering beech 
in the yard, little suspecting what was coming 
for the benefit of science.” My friend went in, 
and brought out his trusty rifle ; waited a moment 
for one of the little frisky gentlemen to be rightly 
placed, for it is needful to the feat that the squirrel 
