you, and I'll fill both eyes next time. Put that infant in his crib! I swear that deer was the cheese, and he stood looking at me with a saucy leer in his face until I swung up my rifle and let go at him. Never touched a hair and away he went. My feet were soaked, so I had taken off my stockings to let them dry while I was eating, and-"

"And a deer had the crust to approach? Must have been a fool deer, all right. Sure it was your stockings that were soaked?"

"Back-back to your kennel, Mord. I up and after him in my bare feet, and had gone about five hundred yards when I got a second shot, him standing and poking his head around a big birch. Had as fine a chance as a man could ask for-missed him clean. Off he went."

"Buck fever. You need a chaperone."

"Not on your natural, Hank. I took all the time I needed and drew the bead right down fine into the notch. You ought to have seen the leaves dance and curl up at the fine line of dope I let off at the listening trees. Never knew I had so many choice and sulphurous expletives in my repertoire, but they're there.

"Over the ridge dashed Mr. Buck, and after him went 1. Two miles' chase along his spoor and I snapped at him as he broke across a clearing. Three misses and all good chances. Then I woke up. Setting up my hat as a target, I stepped back thirty paces, about the distance of my first trial and tried the gun. Overshot a foot. Tried again. Same result. Perhaps I was in a cheerfu.! frame of mind to know my sights were off and me three miles from camp in my bare trotters with slush on the ground. Wonder I'm sore? Sorer than my feet."

"And I came along the ridge and followed your trail, thinking I was chasing bear signs. Sure they were --your bare feet. Boys, it was a sight the way Steve had crushed tender shoots and ripped up the landscape. Must have torn through the woods with a temper like a cyclone with its

"Don't rub it in, 'But.' Come away from that table-food was made to save life, not to take it. What was that fable you promised to give our smoke circle to-night? Here, fill your dhudeen and get going with this piece of charcoal. Story and llustrations by 'But'-sounds rich, don't it? All ready for the chorus," and swaying backward and forward in imitation of the cheer leader at college, Steve led the cry:

"We want 'But's' story and pictures. We want 'But's' story and pictures."

The tall chap sat back and chuckled. until the noise subsided, puffed great clouds of smoke, threw his arms out each side for a good stretch, and, drawing a table toward him, spread a big sheet of paper and sketched rapidly as he talked.

"A certain farmer up in New Hampshire had the life pestered out of him by numbers of neighborly deer, who would persist in visiting his garden patch, eat all they wanted, trample the rest, and generally act the nuisance. He made up his mind to outwit them and set about it this way.

"No deer ever ventured there when any one was about, and if he could fool them into believing the patch had a permanent guardian the trick would be turned. He elaborately rigged up a scarecrow with arms extended wide and to complete his illusion, set an opened umbrella in the dummy's right hand.

"Of course, that device became the talk of the countryside and my farmer threw out his chest until he looked like a pouter pigeon, he felt so good. People said he had a right to. He thought that way, and for several days lorded it over his neighbors as a man of superior intelligence.

"One day rain descended and the floods came, and along about 3 A.M. there was a knock at the farmer's door. Too sleepy to answer, he waited, hoping his disturber might go away. Bangbang! No let up, and he went to the window.

ARKAH NA POGUE

THE CLERK

from a warm nest! Must be something big.'

"Well, I should hacker. Come on behind the barn.'

"As they turned the corner Eben got a start he never recovered from. There stood his scarecrow doing business at the old stand with upraised umbrella, under which posed a young buck gently rubbing his velveted antlers against the handle.

"Mighty clever idea, Eben; 'taint

ROOSTER FIGHT
PIG IN A STOCKING

which provoked a burst of laughter and many a facetious remark in the course of the evening.

"It's mighty lucky for you, 'But,' that a certain illustrious citizen of this great and glorious country of ours never heard that startling tale, for if he had, the other nature fakirs would have to pass it up to you that crown thing. I'll bet this yarn was born in your think-box. Got any more like it?"

"Here's one Hank told me to-day

away over beyond Dungarvey. He had me posted at the foot of a long slope that was fairly criss-crossed with deer signs. I just took notice and mentally labeled the runaways 'Buck Avenue,' 'Doe Boulevard,' and 'Fawn Playground,' when I heard a noise like a cavalry charge, and over the ridge, right into my face and eyes, ran two does and a few paces to the rear came a fine buck. They never saw me at all, and I guess would have run right over me if I hadn't opened on them. I'll bet I overshot the buck at least three feet and of all the getting out you ever

saw! They're going yet. I was some disgusted. Hank, tell that story you cheered me up with."

"I will if you'll all promise not to punctuate it with growls like 'But' did. Can't blame him though. He refers to a strictly accurate story I'll vouch for, because it was told to me by my friend Fred Parke, one of the best fellers that ever drew breath and a taxidermist up at the head of Moosehead Lake. Fred never tells lies and I guess this tale will stand salt all right.

"A certain friend of his in Greenville Junction is death on hedgehogs

each end. The "roosters" were made to sit on the floor, knees up and hands clasped about them, where they were securely tied. The "spurs" were then run through between the elbows and knees, the "roosters" placed about four feet apart and given the word.

Hitching toward each other, they got close, when Bob suddenly turned sidewise and made a lunge at Bill, but in so doing lost his balance as Bill dodged, and over he went on his side. Quick to take advantage of his enemy, Bill ciosed in and bradded Bob to his heart's content, until he cackled in token of defeat. All joined in a barnyard chorus of bleats, moos, and every kind of noise even to the bray of a jackass.

Mysterious disappearances were now becoming the order, until Hank, Tom, Steve, and "But" looked up from a game of "bid whist" to discover that they were alone in the big room with the fire running low, while breathings long and deep told the story of the departure for sandland of their tired comrades. With a look into each other's faces, they arose from the table and got into their flannel pajamas, then climbed into bunks never more inviting.

In a very few minutes, "But" reremarked drowsily, "Gee, but I'd like another try at that buck to-morrow. Hank-do you reckon-"

A strenuous snore was the only reply.

....