s
 
 ROWLAND E. ROBINSON S BOOKS. 
 
 Uncle Lisha s Shop (Portrait Edition) $1.25 
 
 Uncle Lisha s Outing, 1.25 
 
 Sam Level s Camp, i.oo 
 
 Sam Level s Boy, - - 1.25 
 
 Dan vis Folks, 1.25 
 
 A Danvis Pioneer, - - 1.25 
 In New England Fields and Woods, 1.25 
 
 Hero of Ticonderoga, .75 
 
 FOREST AND STREAM PUBLISHING CO., 
 NEW YORK.
 
 ROWLAND E. ROBINSON.
 
 UNCLE LISHA S SHOP. 
 
 LIFE IN 
 A CORNER OF YANKEELAND, 
 
 BY 
 
 ROWLAND E. ROBINSON. 
 
 STXTD EDITION. 
 
 NEW YORK : 
 
 FOREST AND STREAM PUBLISHING CO. 
 1902.
 
 COPYRIGHTED, 1910, 
 Br FOREST AND STREAM PUBLISHING CO.
 
 Stack 
 Annex 
 
 5 
 
 THE DANVIS FOLK. 
 
 THE boundaries of the township of Danvis are not more 
 clearly defined than the limits of the county of Charlotte, 
 in which it is situated. Suffice it to say that it is in the 
 State of Vermont, backed at the east by the mountains that 
 gave the State its name, and shut out from the valley of 
 the Champlain by outlying spurs of the same range. Thus 
 fortified against the march of improvement, its inhabitants 
 longer retained the primitive manners, speech, and customs 
 of the earliest settlers of Vermont than did the population 
 of the lake towns, whose intercourse with the great centres 
 of trade and culture was more direct and frequent 
 
 It is all changed now : Danvis has daily mails, the tele 
 graph almost touches its border, and its mountains echo 
 the shrieks of locomotives and the roar of railroad-trains. 
 The people, generally, wear as fine and modern clothes as 
 any country folk, and it is doubtful whether there is one 
 adult who has not seen something of the bustle and life of 
 at least one of Vermont s two cities, if not those of even 
 greater marts. An aristocracy has sprung up, and people 
 are losing the neighborly kindness of the old times when 
 none were rich and none were poor, and all were in greater 
 measure dependent on each other. In fact, the Danvis 
 folk are no better now than their lowland neighbors, who 
 therefore no longer despise them.
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 I. THE SCHOOL MEETING IN DISTRICT 13, . 7 
 
 II. UNCLE LISHA S SPRING GUN, .... 17 
 
 III. IN UNCLE LISHA S SHOP, 29 
 
 IV. CONCERNING OWLS, 34 
 
 V. UNCLE LISHA S COURTING, 40 
 
 VI. How ZENE BURNHAM COME IT ON HIS 
 
 FATHER, 48 
 
 VII. A RAINY DAY IN THE SHOP, 54 
 
 VIII. THE TURKEY SHOOT AT HAMNER S, . . 64 
 
 IX. SAM LOVEL S THANKSGIVING, .... 79 
 
 X. LITTLE Sis, 91 
 
 XI. SAM LOVEL S BEE-HUNTING, .... 104 
 
 XII. IN THE SHOP AGAIN, no 
 
 XIII. THE Fox HUNT, 116 
 
 XIV. NOAH CHASE S DEER-HUNTING, ... 125 
 XV. THE HARD EXPERIENCE OF MR. ABIJAH 
 
 JARVIS, 132 
 
 XVI. THE COON HUNT, 141 
 
 XVII. IN THE SUGAR CAMP, 149 
 
 XVIII. INDIANS IN DANVIS, 158 
 
 XIX. THE BOY OUT WEST, 167 
 
 XX. BREAKING UP, 172 
 
 XXI. THE DEPARTURE, 180 
 
 XXII. THE WILD BEES SWARM, 185
 
 UNCLE LISHA S SHOP. 
 I. 
 
 THE SCHOOL MEETING IN DISTRICT 13. 
 
 FOR a week before the first Tuesday in the April of a 
 certain year half a lifetime ago, the battered door of the 
 shabby old school-house in District 13 of the township of 
 Danvis bore a conspicuous patch of white paper among its 
 scratches, bruises, and awkwardly carved initials. Some 
 wayfarers knew at first sight what this early spring blossom 
 ing of the school-house door heralded ; those who did not 
 or hoped that it might advertise a " slayth o hand show," 
 or "a stronermy lectur / or " temp unce meetin ," 
 found upon examination that it warned the " legil voters 
 in school meeting in Dist. 13 in the town of Danvis to 
 mete in the school house in sd. disL on Tuesday evening, 
 Aperil 3," etc. 
 
 Accordingly on the evening named in the warning, as 
 the dismal landscape of the season grew dim in the twilight, 
 the little building was illuminated by four candles, and the 
 cracked, rusty stove glowed with fervent heat, for the com 
 mittee and the " deestrick dark" had not been negligent 
 of their duty, and having lighted the candles and the fire, 
 now sat gazing thoughtfully, or with absence of thought, 
 at the stove while they waited the coming of their neigh 
 bors. Presently, announcing their arrival with more than
 
 8 UNCLE LISHA S SHOP. 
 
 needful stamping and scraping of boots, there entered 
 nearly all the legal voters of the district and almost as 
 many boys, for without the presence of this non-voting but 
 not altogether silent element, no school meeting had ever 
 yet been held in District 13. Uncle Lisha Peggs, the 
 cordwainer, was there, and Solon Briggs, the man of big if 
 not weighty words, and Joseph Hill, and his aged sire 
 whom Ethan Allen had assisted in the capture of Ticon- 
 deroga, and who had fought at Hubbardton and Benning- 
 ton, and had ever since been ready to take a hand in any 
 fight, whether of words or deeds. There were also present 
 Samuel Lovel, the hunter, and his companion Drive, the 
 hound, who took now no active part in the proceedings, 
 but got himself under the stove and toasted his gaunt ribs 
 with exceeding comfort while he bided his time. Loud 
 and forthputting, there was Beri Burton, an uncouth giant, 
 who had not long been a resident, having moved into the 
 township from no one knew where, and who had the air of 
 being burdened with a grievance and the malodor of 
 " spilin* for a fight." Gran ther Hill set his toothless 
 jaws as he rested his chin upon his cane, and glowered at 
 him as he could not have done more savagely at his ancient 
 bitterest enemies, the Tories and Indians. Antoine Bas- 
 sette, the Canadian, attended the meeting, not a voter, but 
 interested as a furnisher of scholars, for every year was 
 added one more black-polled, bare footed toddler to his 
 dusky brood that came jabbering along the dusty summer 
 road to the old school- house. 
 
 Joel Bartlett, "dark of the deestrick, " was a staid 
 Quaker, whose mouth was made up for a whistle that the 
 strictness of his religious views had never permitted him to 
 utter, and he wore a wide-brimmed hat always abroad and
 
 UNCLE LISHA S SHOP. 9 
 
 much at home, and almost as constantly as this and the 
 pucker of his lips, a coat supposed to be somewhat like 
 that of George Fox, the founder of his sect. " Sammule, " 
 he said, when after sitting some time in silence his attention 
 was attracted by the hound s yelping and pawing the air 
 in pursuit of a shadowy fox on the hills of dreamland, 
 " thy dawg appears kind er lanky, s ough he hedn t 
 wintered fust-rate. Thee feeds him, I hope?" 
 
 " Feed im !" said Sam, indignant at such an imputa 
 tion on his treatment of his friend. " The hain t a day 
 goes over Drives s head at he don t hev a johnny-cake 
 baked for im, an* he gits it, too. The trouble with Drive 
 is, he s ben a preachin raound hum all winter, a prophet 
 thaout honor in his own country, ye know, an not much 
 profit to his marster. Mebby you ve hearn him holdin 
 forth on Hawgs Back an raound. He s got kinder thin 
 duin* so much for so little, for he ain t no hirelin minis 
 ter, an don t git nothin but his board for his sarvices. 
 Tow-ward the latter eend o nex month, Fif month, I m 
 a goin to start him off for yearly meetin , to New York or 
 Newport, an if he don t fat up there, I m a goin to git 
 him recommended, an hev im git a consarn to go on a 
 visit to Friends to the east ard. Ef that don t git im in 
 good trim, I ll disown im, for he can t preciate blessin s, 
 an hain t fit to be a member mong Friends." 
 
 " Wai, Sammulf. " said Joel, with a twinkle in his eyes, 
 " if thy dawg has b, a a preachin anything weighty, I m 
 afeared his marster s ears hes been closed, an I think he 
 better continner a sowin the seed to hum, an if the 
 graound is barrern keep a harrerin of it in." 
 
 The men laughed, and the boys snickered in the dark 
 corners, and Joel, rising and looking around, said, " I
 
 10 UNCLE LISHA S SHOP. 
 
 think everybody is present at s xpected, an perhaps the 
 meetin might as well becalled t odder. Friends 11 
 please come t odder. 
 
 All but himself took off their hats, and the whish of the 
 boys whispering ceased while he slowly read the warning, 
 stooping to the nearest candle while he followed his fore 
 finger along the lines. This ended, he said, "The fust 
 thing is to choose a mawdrator. Will some friend please 
 nomernate ?" 
 
 " I nomernate Solon Briggs, " said Sam Lovel, promptly, 
 and "I secont the motion," some one else said as 
 promptly. Then Joel proclaimed that Solon Briggs was 
 " nomernated and seconted as mawdrator, an them at 
 favors him will say aye," and there was a small thunder of 
 ayes. 
 
 "The contrayry-minded will say no," and only Beri 
 Burton growled no. 
 
 You hev made chice of Solon Briggs to sarve you as 
 mawdrator," Joel announced, and Solon took his seat 
 beside the clerk. 
 
 " In consumin this persition," he said, slowly rising, 
 and as slowly grinding his palms together, " to which I 
 was chose unomynous without only one disseminatin 
 voice, I du it a hopesin at this meetin will cornduck 
 itself becomin an harmonous an proprietory ; an that 
 them at is in the mynority will feel as content to be mi- 
 noritorious as them at is in the may-jority will be to be 
 majoritorious. An we will naow perceed to transack busi 
 ness. The fust thing on the progerammy is to eleck a 
 dark. Please nomernate a dark. 
 
 I guess, said Uncle Lisha, scraping the wax off his 
 left thumb with the nail of his right forefinger, and rolling
 
 UNCLE LISffA S SHOP. II 
 
 it into pellets which he dropped upon the floor, I guess 
 at we d better hev Joel. He s taown dark an* dark of 
 his meetin , an ben deestrick dark this ever so long, 
 an so he s got uster bein dark. I nomernate Joel." 
 Joel s nomination was seconded, and he was elected. 
 
 "The nex thing," said Solon, "on the progerammy 
 or things is a committee, one, tu, or three, to sarve as 
 committee for the pursuin year." 
 
 " Bein 1 at the* s some," said Joseph Hill, propping 
 himself into a half-standing position with his hands on the 
 desks each side of him, " at thinks we d better not go t 
 the expense o hirin of a man, but better kinder git along 
 wi a woman teacher this summer, an* the s some at 
 don t, perhaps we d better hev a committee at does or 
 don t think so. F my part, I d* know s it makes much 
 diffunce to me. I sh ld like to hev a good teacher cheap, 
 or a cheap teacher, an hev him her it a good one. 
 I d* know s I care much which sect the teacher is. I move 
 t we hev a man or a womern. " 
 
 " We do wan no school-mom !" roared fieri Burton ; 
 " Gol dum school-mom !" 
 
 " Afore we go any furder," said Joel Bartlett, rising and 
 laying aside his hat, " I feel it borne in upon me to 
 caution friends agin givin away to their passions, an to 
 try an conduck themselves with proper regard o one 
 nother s feelin s. Bein at we haint all o one mind, we 
 can t expeck to be all on us suited ; an them at haint 
 mus try an bear their disapp intment, an them at is 
 mus try an not kerry emselves too high-headed." As 
 he went on he unwittingly set his words to the dolorous 
 tune to which the movings of his spirit went forth to those 
 of his own belief on First-day and Fifth-day meetings.
 
 12 UNCLE LfSffA S SHOP. 
 
 " An , beloved friends, we must all on us, them "at is up 
 an them at is daown, indivor for to ah be charitable 
 an kind an forgivin , one untu another. A speakin for 
 myself, I can say that I think a suitable young womern 
 ould arnswer aour purpose very well for the summer, as 
 well as bein more equinomical " 
 
 Thar !" cried Beri Burton, springing up like a gigan 
 tic jack-in-a-box, and mumbling his words as if they were 
 so many hot potatoes, " thar, Misser Bartlutt, we do wan 
 hear no more your dum blob ; we do wan* no school- 
 mom, I tell ye. Had un las summer, didn t us, an what 
 kin er teacher was her ? Why, noons an art* school, an 
 boys aout an gals aout fo noon an art noon, the was a 
 feller won t call no names at uster come to school- 
 haouse, n him an school mom Id go daown inter 
 medder strawberrin . School-mom Id rub strawbers on 
 er cheeks an that ere feller Id buss em off ! Gol dum 
 such school-mom ! Then ey d come up ter school- 
 haouse, an that ere feller Id git a board an run it 
 through the fence, an school-mom Id git ont one end 
 on t an he d get ont tother, an then they d go teeter- 
 tawter, teeter-tawter ! Gol dum such school-mom. Do 
 wan no more on em !" 
 
 " Ef I could on y a hed that ere big heathin a front on 
 me to Hubbar ton or Bennin ton, " said Gran ther Hill in 
 a hoarse, whistling voice, " a-painted an feathered, er 
 dressed up in a red cut, he wouldn t a-ben a-troublin on 
 us to-night, he wouldn t." 
 
 " Ef I d ha knowed, " retorted Beri, " at this was a 
 goin to be a resurruction, stiddy a reg lar school meetin , 
 I d ha tooted up some o my fo fathers, or dug em up, 
 an brung em along to vote agin ye, ye ol* onburied cuss. "
 
 UNCLE LISHA S SHOP. 13 
 
 " Odder ! Odder !" called Solon. 
 
 " Forefathers !" sneered Sam Lovel. " Ye never bed 
 none, n f ye bed the y be shamed o yer com p ny. I 
 say odder, tu. He s same s a skeeter to me. I don t 
 care nothin baout his bitin , but I do hate his cussed 
 yowlin ." 
 
 "Jozeff!" commanded the ancient warrior, "you 
 kinder stiddy me on my laigs so s t I c n run my cane 
 through that Hessian s in ards !" 
 
 " Wai, naow, no, father, I guess I wouldn t, not f I 
 was you," said his peaceable-minded son, " seem s ough 
 I wouldn t F you sh ld kill him, you d git hung, n 
 that ould be tumble disgraceful for a man o your years, 
 an one at s hed such scapes from Ticonderoge an* 
 Hubbar ton an Bennin ton. An* if you didn t, he might 
 l> ck both on us, for I haintsospry s I was, an that would 
 be tumble onpleasant for us an tumble gratyfyin for him. 
 I haint no mind to give him no sech satyfaction. " 
 
 " Bah gosh !" screamed Antoine, springing to his feet 
 and dashing his tasselled woollen cap upon the floor, 
 " Ah ll mek it notion we ant have it no school, f e can 
 have itaout all atam*quarly, quarly ! Ah ll mek it notion 
 we ant have it no school, me !" 
 
 " Odder ! Odder !" Solon shouted, in a stern voice, 
 " you re aouten odder, Antwine." 
 
 " What for Ah m aout norder, M sieu Brigg, hein ?" 
 
 " Why, Antwine, you haint a legle voter in school 
 meetin , ye see, don t ye? It ould be a diabolishment 
 of parloramentary rules to low you to vote or speak. Ye 
 haint never ben nat ralized, ye know." 
 
 " Wai, Ah don care f Ah don nat ral lie, so much 
 you do. Ah ll show you jes many chillun for go school 
 
 All a tarn quarly, i.e. all the time quarrelling. " Tm" for " time " occur* 
 frequently throughout ih l>rx.k.
 
 14 UNCLE LISHA S SHOP. 
 
 anyboddee, bah gosh ! More of it all a tarn, evree year, 
 evree year. Ah guess Ahm s more norder you was, M sieu 
 Brigg. You be marree more as Ah was, an don have it 
 on y but one chillun, bah gosh !" and Antoine grasped 
 the seat of his baggy trousers with both hands preparatory 
 to jumping upon his cap. 
 
 " Good airth an seas !" Lisha roared in a voice that 
 made the cracked window-panes jingle, and brought down 
 some crumbs of plastering from the ceiling. " What s 
 the motter ails ye, all on ye ? We never hed no sech 
 cussed works afore to a school -meetin sen I was ol nough 
 to go to one ! Ann Twine ! You seddown an shet up 
 yer dum Canuck head ! What s the motter ails ye ?" 
 
 " It all comes," said Solon, " o hevin this ere imported 
 disturbin elephunt in aour midst of us, which we didn t 
 uster hev it prevariously before last year. 
 
 What might then have happened if something else had 
 not presently happened will never be known. 
 
 The men were growing angrier, and the repeated calls 
 to order by the moderator, the loud voices and warlike 
 demonstrations of their elders had hushed the boys in the 
 back seats to such silence as their exuberant spirits had 
 seldom known. Pelatiah Gove was the biggest of them, 
 and having ciphered to the rule of three, was, therefore, 
 unless he chose to make his painful way farther up the hill 
 of learning toward the temple of science pictured on the 
 first page of the spelling-book, to be considered a graduate 
 of the district school. He was old enough to begin to 
 think of the past, but whether with any longing to recall 
 it perhaps he could not himself quite tell. He sat in his 
 old seat by the window, vainly trying to accommodate his 
 longer grown legs to their old position, and studying the
 
 UNCLE LISffA S SHOP. 15 
 
 initials and unmeaning devices his jack-knife had carved in 
 the noontimes and stolen moments of past winters. He 
 contrasted the present turbulent sounds with the drowsy 
 buzz of the flies on the windows in the summer days when 
 he so longed to go a-fishing in the brook that shot its tanta 
 lizing glints through the stems and shadows of the alders, 
 and he turned his head to the window and looked toward 
 the brook in a dreamy way. There seemed not much in 
 that direction now to tempt one away from the warmth of 
 the school-house, only that its atmosphere was becoming a 
 little too warm, and if there was really to be what Pelatiah 
 called " a reg lar carummux," he, being a lover of peace, 
 would rather not be present. 
 
 But something caught his abstracted gaze. He rubbed 
 the dusty pane and put a hollowed hand on either side of 
 his face, and, looking intently, counted one, two, three, 
 four dark objects moving slowly across the dingy snow and 
 dun dead grass of the fields, revealed with dim distinctness 
 in the clouded moonlight After a long look though it 
 was only a minute to verify his first suspicion, he jumped 
 to his feet, in his tangled haste almost tearing the desk 
 from its place, shouting : 
 
 " Coons ! coons ! four on em a-crossin the road ! 
 Come on, all on ye ! Here, Drive, sic em !" and made 
 a dash for the door, shouting as he went, and emphasizing 
 his calls with the thump ! thump 1 of his heavy boots. 
 " Coons! come, Drive!" and Drive came suddenly out 
 of dreamland and shot through the open door in hot eager 
 ness for game more tangible than the phantoms of his 
 sleep. 
 
 Pelatiah and the hound were followed in a mad rush by 
 every one but the moderator and the clerk. These two
 
 1 6 UNCLE LISHA S SHOP. 
 
 stood aghast at the sudden breaking up of the meeting, 
 and as Solon heard the shouts of the men and boys, and 
 the baying of the deep-voiced hound coming fainter and 
 fainter as they sped across the fields in pursuit of their 
 quarry, he said, turning to his unmoved colleague, " The 
 quorum has absquaterlated, an I pernounce this meetin 
 is a-journed, Simon Dyer !" 
 
 And so he and Joel put out the lights and made the fire 
 safe, and themselves went out. As they paused listening 
 on the doorstep, with a human curiosity that neither the 
 dignity of office nor the precepts of a stern religion could 
 quite restrain, the voices of the men and boys of the pur 
 suing party were hushed, and there was heard only the 
 steady, insisting baying of the hound, now evidently not 
 moving any farther away, nor moving at all. 
 
 " I ruther guess," said Joel, with his best ear turned 
 toward the sound, and his mouth more tightly puckered for 
 the unvoiced whistle, " I ruther guess the dawg has treed 
 em, onless he s preachin to Sammule. Don t thee think 
 we d better go an see, Solon ?
 
 II. 
 
 UNCLE LISHA S SPRING GUN. 
 
 UNCLE LISHA PEGGS was the owner of a small farm lying 
 so near the Green Mountains that his wood-lot was on a 
 westering slope of one of their spurs, and the " black 
 growth" of balsam and spruce crept down to the upper 
 edge of the sugar-bush. His acres were too few to keep 
 him steadily employed in their tillage, and so, in slack 
 times, as well as in evenings and rainy days, he mended 
 the boots and shoes of his neighbors, and was sometimes 
 persuaded, as a special favor, to exercise the craft to the 
 extent of building a pair of leathern conveniences. These 
 productions could not be praised for their beauty, for the 
 builder did not hold greatly to snug fits. If the sole of the 
 wearer s foot set fairly on the inner sole of the boot and 
 there were two or three points of contact with the uppers, 
 his ideal of a perfect fit was realized. 
 
 He " callated his stogies ould turn water like a cab 
 bage-leaf if you gin em a dost o taller or mushrat ile onct 
 a week, an wear julluk iron, an when a feller onct got 
 em broke they sot dreffle easy" all of which was true, 
 and especially the dreadfulness of the easiness. 
 
 One Sunday, late in summer time, when the sun shone 
 hot from a brassy sky through a smoky haze that blurred the 
 shadows edges, and the grass was slippery with drought, 
 and the locust gave voice to the parching heat, Uncle Lisha
 
 1 8 UNCLE LISHA S SHOP. 
 
 had performed the duty of church attendance, smoothing 
 his way through it with a comfortable nap, and had eaten 
 his Sunday dinner. He was now taking another nap in 
 his " Windsor chair," a- tilt on the stoop, his head and face 
 smotheringly protected from the flies by the broad " ben- 
 dinah hankercher," used only on Sundays, at weddings, 
 funerals and county fairs. At last an exploring fly found 
 his way under the edge of this expanse of dotted red silk, 
 and got so far on his tour of discovery as the entrance of 
 one of the caverns in the mountain of Lisha s nose, into 
 which he was suddenly drawn by a sort of whirlwind, 
 whereupon ensued a commotion which must have seemed 
 to him at least an earthquake or a tornado. He was cast 
 forth by a tremendous blast, the silken canopy was blown 
 away, the chair came down on its forelegs with a bang that 
 awakened Aunt Jerusha on her decorous patchwork couch 
 in the darkened bedroom, the cat from her siesta, and set 
 the fowls to cackling. 
 
 Of course Uncle Lisha was broad awake, and looking in 
 .o tell Aunt Jerusha that " the darn d flies wouldn t let a 
 f eller sleep, an he guessed he d gwup an see how the corn 
 looked," rammed the bandana into the chamber of his 
 bell-crowned beaver, as if loading a cannon, and then 
 putting his head in for a ball, held across lots in his shirt 
 sleeves, his Sunday boots creaking soberly among the fad 
 ing daisies of the pasture, and clattering against them a 
 jerky tattoo. He forded, dry-footed, Stony Brook, now 
 more stony than watery, and went through the corner of 
 the sugar-bush, where the giant trees were healing their 
 spring wounds in the summer sunshine, and past the silent 
 shanty hovering its sap tubs and the upturned potash kettle, 
 with squirrels and mice for housekeepers at this season.
 
 UNCLE LISHA S SHOP. 19 
 
 Beside this lay the two acres of corn, the long leave* 
 rolled by the heat into slender spikes, making the rows 
 indeed " spiky ranks of maize," between which the pump 
 kins trailed their dark vines overhung by their own droop 
 ing leaves, pigeon grass and rag-weed, with here and there 
 a yellowing globe shining through the rank growth, but 
 not yet so bright as the golden chalices of late blossoms 
 out of which the bees were drinking honey. The pollen 
 of the tassels powdered the leaves, and the fray of silk at 
 the end of the ears was turning from pale green to brown, 
 showing that the kernels were set and well on in the milk 
 and would soon begin to glaze in the furnace of August 
 In spite of the dry weather, the promise of a crop was very 
 comforting to Uncle Lisha, till as he wandered through 
 the rustling rows he came to the upper edge of the field 
 nearest the dark woods, so near that their balsamic odors 
 spiced the cloying sweetness of the corn-blossoms. 
 
 Here had been havoc. Stalks were torn and trampled 
 down, ears stripped and munched and trodden into the 
 earth as if a herd of swine had been at large among them. 
 
 " Coons !" cried Uncle Lisha, as at first he stood 
 aghast " Dam d if I don t get Sam Lovel to come up 
 here with his hound to-night ! no, to-morrer night." 
 
 Then as his eye caught in the mellow soil the imprint 
 of a clawed foot as big as his hand, he started with some 
 thing like alarm. " Good airth and seas ! it s a cussed 
 bear ! Yes," he said, as he plucked a tuft of long dark 
 fur from the thorns of a blackberry by the fence, " it s a 
 cussed bear I" Then, as he remembered the day, he 
 apologized to his Sunday clothes " Wall, he is a cussed 
 bear 1 Why couldn t he a eat blackberries, stead a 
 spilin ten bushels o corn. Dutten corn, tew, none o
 
 20 UNCLE LISHA S SHOP. 
 
 your nasty Tucket ! Gol darn im, I 11 set a spring gun 
 for him to-night no, to-morrer night !" And he set his 
 face homeward, full of wrath and news, bearing in his 
 hands a tuft of bear s fur and a munched ear of corn, in 
 proof of the righteousness of the one and the truth of the 
 other. 
 
 Monday forenoon was spent by him in warning his 
 neighbors that he was about to set a spring gun, so that 
 coon hunters and cross-lot travellers might not run into 
 danger in his cornfield ; and the afternoon was devoted to 
 rigging the deadly contrivance. 
 
 First he loaded his ancient piece, which when set upright 
 was taller than himself, with the old military charge, a ball 
 and three buckshot on top of half his palmful of powder ; 
 then bearing the gun and his axe to the edge of the corn 
 field, he cut two stout stakes three feet long, which he 
 drove into the ground about four feet apart, and then split 
 the tops downward far enough to allow the gripe of the 
 gun to be forced into the cleft of the first and the barrel 
 into that of the second, so that the line of fire should be 
 according to established rule " at the hayth of the out 
 side bone of a feller s knee." Close to and opposite the 
 lock he drove another stake, on top of which he fixed a 
 short lever with one end resting against the front of the 
 trigger. To the other end, when the work was completed, 
 was attached a line of elm bark, rubbed with earth to dull 
 its too conspicuous whiteness and stretching out sixty or 
 seventy feet beyond the gun muzzle, running at intervals 
 through cleft stakes, wedged to keep them from pinching it 
 
 When Uncle Lisha s task was done, and he straightened 
 his long bent back with his palms and gave a last critical 
 look at his infernal machine, he could see no reason why
 
 UNCLE LISHA S SHOP. 21 
 
 it should not do its deadly work if the bear would do his 
 part So toward sundown he primed the gun and, setting 
 it at full cock, left it to guard the cornfield. Hoping to 
 get a booming report that should tell of the death of the 
 spoiler, he hardly got into his accustomed heavy sleep till 
 midnight, but was not awakened from it by any sound till 
 cockcrow. 
 
 Then, when the rayless sun was rising like a red moon 
 above the ridge of the mountain, he went to the cornfield 
 and found everything undisturbed, no more corn destroyed, 
 and the old gun asleep with beads of dew on its rusty 
 barrel. He made it harmless for the day by brushing the 
 priming out of the pan and setting it at half-cock. 
 
 " Las night want his night," he said, " but he ll come 
 to-night, see f he don t !" and went home. 
 
 Toward nightfall he put the spring gun on guard again. 
 As in the gloaming he leaned over the " do yard " fence, 
 nmoking a meditative pipe, with his eastern ear uncon 
 sciously cocked toward the cornfield, he became aware of 
 an intermittent glow a furlong down the lonely road that 
 outshone the flashing of the fireflies. It was somebody s 
 pipe, and as it drew nearer its dim light revealed the 
 features of Antoine Bassette, a self-exiled Canadian 
 " patriot," who had fought and fled with Papineau, and 
 had taken shelter here, safe from the lion s paw even in 
 the edge of the eagle s nest, where he was hatching out 
 into an American citizen, chipping the shell with brave 
 pecks at the speech and customs of Yankee land. Thus 
 far in his life s pilgrimage he had shuffled along in moc 
 casins, but as he drew near to naturalization he aspired to 
 boots, which, having been bespoken and duly measured 
 for, were the cause of his visit to Uncle Lisha.
 
 21 UNCLE LISHA S SHOP. 
 
 " Bushoo, musheer," said Lisha, airing his French in 
 the twilight 
 
 Bon soir, monsieur, politely responded Bassette, and 
 then with more faith in his own English, poor as it was, 
 than in Lisha s French good as its owner thought it : 
 " Prob ly you got dem boot done, One Lasha, don t 
 it? Wai, prob ly it an L Wai, Ah don t care, you gat 
 heem done fore soon, prob ly. One man tole me bear 
 heat mos all up you corn, One Lasha, an you goin 
 catch heem wid gawn. Dat so, One* Lasha, hein 1 You 
 tink it bear, One Lasha ? Wai, ah guess it Ba tlett s hoi 
 saow, me. Sacre cochon ! heat all ma patack. Daam 
 hole pig like dat ! You gat good gawn, One Lasha ? 
 Ah spose so, prob ly, good gawa keel bear? Da a no 
 bear you co nfeel. Ba tlett s hoi saow. Ah hope you 
 gawn ketch heem, me. You gat dat boots did, One 
 Lasha ? 
 
 And not till now did Lisha find a chance to answer that 
 they were not done, and that he was sure it was not neigh 
 bor Bartlett s hog that had done the mischief in the corn 
 field, for he had seen plainly the tracks of a bear and had 
 found fur such as never grew on swine. 
 
 The boots were so near completion that a half-hour s 
 work would make them ready for the torture of the poor 
 Canuck. 
 
 " Come in, Ann Twine, come in, an I ll finish em 
 up to rights." So saying, Uncle Lisha led the way into 
 his little shop and lighted the candle which, stuck in the 
 end of a jointed wooden sconce, illumined his nightly 
 labors. Then he deliberately donned his leather apron, 
 lowered himself into the polished leathern seai of his shoe- 
 bench, set his iron-rimmed, owl-eyed spectacles astride his
 
 UNCLE LISHA S SHOP. 23 
 
 nose, fished out the boots from a clutter of clumsy lasts, 
 broad slabs of sole leather, rolls of cowhide and sheepskin, 
 gave his long shoe-knife a rasping on the peculiar, coarse, 
 gritty stone used only by shoemakers, and was ready for 
 work, or would have been if the sharp knife had not re 
 minded him of a story which he began to tell, while the 
 edge of the knife and the boot, held between his knees, 
 shared, by turns, his admiring glances. 
 
 " Ann Twine, when my father lived in C net cut he 
 knowed a man at had a shoe knife julluck that at was 
 the cutest thing to cut bread with anybody ever see, so t 
 they useter send for the shoemaker to go to tarverns when 
 the was trainin s and to housen when the was gret wed 
 din s, an such carummuxes, jest a puppus to cut thr 
 bread. Onct the was a gret shearin to Colonel Leaven 
 worth s at kep a thousand sheep, an had twenty shearers 
 an big doin s genally, an they sent for him to" 
 
 But he did not finish his story that night, for just then 
 the heavy air was torn by a loud report, so startling in the 
 midst of the outer stillness that had been broken only by 
 the steady creak of the crickets, that it might remind one 
 of the signal gun of some savagely-beleaguered block house 
 of the olden time, and Tater Hill hurled back an echo 
 like an answering gun from another fort, and Hog s Back 
 another, and mingling with the swelling and dying rever 
 berations was an angry yell as of attacking Indians. 
 
 " Good airth an seas !" cried Uncle Lisha, scattering 
 his exclamations, his spectacles, and the boot from the 
 shoe-bench to the dooryard gate, as he rushed out, brand 
 ishing his knife. 
 
 " Come on, Ann Twine, come on, I ve got him !" 
 
 He was half way across the pasture before Antoine de-
 
 24 UNCLE LISHA S SHOP. 
 
 cided to follow him, and the Canadian barely kept the 
 valorous old Yankee in sight in the hazy moonlight as he 
 stumbled across the stony field and splashed through the 
 brook and quite lost him among the shadows of the 
 maples, but found him again in the cornfield just in time 
 to see him charge upon a writhing black object, the bear, 
 sorely hit with the ounce ball and buckshot The fray 
 was short, the bear sank out of it in a limp heap and his 
 conqueror crept out of it, groaning : 
 
 " Oh, Ann Twine, be you here?" he gasped. " The 
 dummed etarnal critter s tore all my insides out, but I ve 
 gathered up the best on em an I m goin to try to git 
 home with em." 
 
 As he became more clearly revealed to the terrified 
 Frenchman in the hazy light of the harvest moon, he was 
 seen to be stooping painfully along, bearing some burden 
 in his gathered apron. 
 
 Oh, sacre ! sacre ! sacre ! Da s too bad, One Lasha, 
 too bad, too bad 1 Oh, sacre ! Bah gosh, sacre !" He 
 had seen nothing so terrible in the Papineau war. Oh, 
 what Ah do, One Lasha, what Ah do ?" 
 
 " You can t help me here none, Ann Twine, but you cut 
 f u the house an git onter the hoss an put fur the darkter. 
 Mabby he c n stuff em back so they ll answer for a spell. " 
 
 Antoine, with a face whiter than the moon that shone 
 above him, sped across the fields at a pace which had dis 
 tinguished the close of his military career. He shot him 
 self into the kitchen of the little farm-house and gave placid 
 Aunt Jerusha a dreadful shock with the dire tidings that 
 " One Lasha keel bear an bear keel heem ! Hole man 
 dead an bringen hissif home in hees aprum ! Ah go for 
 doctah rat off !"
 
 UNCLE I.fS/IA S SHOP. 25 
 
 The next minute he was in the barn, saddling the old 
 horse, and five minutes later went clattering down the road 
 at a lumbering gallop toward the doctor s, five miles away. 
 
 Poor Aunt Jerusha went hurrying across the pasture to 
 give her wounded lord such succor as she could, with an 
 unwonted sickness at her stout heart. It was a sufficient 
 sign of her trepidation and alarm that she had forgotten to 
 put on her sun bonnet. Half way across the field, Lisha 
 became discernible against the dull whiteness of the mouse 
 ear and everlasting of the sterile hillside. As they ap 
 proached each other, he seemed indeed to be bringing 
 himself home in his apron, as the Frenchman had said, 
 stooping over a burden in that garment which was gathered 
 in both his hands. 
 
 Oh, father, be you dead ? sobbed Aunt Jerusha, in a 
 voice strangely mixed of shrill and deep tones. 
 
 " No, mother, I ain t dead ; but I guess I m goin to 
 be. The tarnal critter has tore me all to pieces ! My 
 heart an lights an stummerk is inside yet, but I guess 
 he s scooped out all the rest on em." 
 
 " Oh, what kin I do for ye, father; what kin I do?" 
 ciied the wife. " Antwine s gone lickaty split arter the 
 darkter, an t can t be long fore he ll come. I do know 
 as I could git em back right if I tried, but I ll try f ye 
 say so, father. 
 
 " No, mother," Lisha answered, weakly ; " you can t 
 do nothin , only keep along with me, jist as ye allers have, 
 Jerushy," he added, with a tremulous tenderness in his 
 voice that reminded her of its tones when she was young 
 and fair Jerusha Chase, and he came courting on the Sunday 
 nights, left forty years behind in their plodding journey. 
 
 So they went slowly homeward, she, when they came to
 
 26 UNCLE LISHA S SHOP. 
 
 the fences, making a way for him to pass through. When 
 at last they got home, the good old wite put him and his 
 burden tenderly to bed in clothes and apron, and then, 
 with the housewifely instinct strong upon her even in the 
 midst of trouble, put things " to rights" for the doctor s 
 visit, and as quietly as possible awaited that event. 
 
 Some neighbors to whom Antoine had scattered out 
 crumbs of the burden of news as he journeyed toward the 
 doctor s, came dropping in to offer their help with the 
 ready kindness of our primitive communities. But there 
 was nothing for them to do. Two or three of the oldest 
 women sat in the little bedroom where Aunt Jerusha 
 watched beside her husband, whom she dared not doubt 
 was soon to leave her alone in this end of the world, for 
 their only son had settled in " the Hio," then almost at 
 the other end of the world. The other women sat primly 
 against the walls of the " square room," some telescoping 
 their sun-bonnets together and magnifying in whispers the 
 latest neighborhood gossip. 
 
 The men lounged in the doorways or against the side of 
 the house and dooryard fence, and told in low voices their 
 experience with bears and discussed this most recent and 
 tragic one. 
 
 "Uncle Lisha hedn t fit bears much," said Samuel 
 Lovel, a tall farmer who loved hunting more than farming ; 
 " f he hed he wouldn t a-tackled one with a shoe- knife." 
 
 " Wai," said Tom Hamlin, another hunting farmer, 
 " it don t somehow seem noways fair t set spring guns 
 and traps and such for varmints, thout it s skunks an 
 mink an mushrats. I d rather shute one bear n t trap 
 ten. They ha no more instinc about a trap n a skunk 
 hes!"
 
 UNCLE LISHA S SHOP. a 7 
 
 " Wai," drawled Joseph Hill, " skunks hes outstink ! 
 seems s ough they hed. " 
 
 " But then," apologized Joel Bartlett, " thee sees he 
 was a eatin all Uncle Lisha s corn, n the d got to be 
 suthin did. I should feel bore aout in, killin a bear any 
 way I could if I hed to pizen him." 
 
 "That would spile the skin," objected Joseph Hill, 
 with an eye to the main chance, " n I d know but 
 twould the ile ; sartainly twould the meat." 
 
 " Dot rot bear s meat," Tom Hamlin said ; "I d jes 
 s soon eat snake s meat !" 
 
 " Wai," remarked Joseph Hill, " I ve hearn o folks 
 at liked snake s meat. I d a leetle druther hev bear. It 
 all depends on how a feller was brung up, n we never 
 hed no snakes cooked t aour haouse that is, not s I re 
 member on." 
 
 " Wonder f Uncle Lisha s bear s fat ?" queried a thrift f 
 man. " F he is t ill be quite a help to the widder. 
 Bear s ile is wulh suthin consid able. " 
 
 " It s a hopesin the haint a-goin tu be no widder," 
 said Sam Lovel ; " we can t let Uncle Lisha go yit awhile 
 but there !" exclaimed the tall hunter, unlooping him. 
 self from the fence, why haint we thought to go an fetch 
 the bear hum stead a-loafin round here duin nothin ? 
 Come on, men ; git a axe to cut a pole an a rope to tie 
 his laigs together no, the line of the gun 11 do for 
 that" 
 
 And so, the axe found, a half dozen of them started 
 across the field and faded out of sight long before their 
 voices were drawn beyond hearing. 
 
 The doctor had been aroused from his slumbers by 
 Antoine s loud summons to " Come up to One Lasha.
 
 28 UNCLE LISHA S SHOP. 
 
 Bear tore his eenside all off, an he don gat ma boot 
 done, mos ." 
 
 The first of the small hours found the rough but kindly 
 old mediciner at Lisha s door before the bearers had re 
 turned with the dear-bought spoil. 
 
 " Now, come in here with me, you two chaps," he 
 said, selecting a couple of stout hearts, " and bring each 
 on ye a candle. Well, Lisha," looking at his patient 
 intently and examining his pulse, "you don t pear so 
 very bad off. Guess we can fix you up for another bear 
 fight yet ! Now, men, hold the lights, and he put on 
 his spectacles, rolled back his cuffs and turned down the 
 folds of the leather apron. He carefully touched and 
 closely inspected for a moment what was disclosed, then 
 his face flushed angrily, and the candle-bearers were horri 
 fied to see him gather up the trailing mass in both hands 
 and hurl it across the room, roaring : 
 
 " You confounded old fool ! these all belong to the 
 bear !" 
 
 Though Lisha had received some ugly scratches, he had 
 suffered no serious injury, and was able next day to finish 
 Antoine s boots. And in consideration of his services in 
 the old man s hour of sore trial he was made happy, until 
 he had worn them a day, by having them given him out 
 right
 
 III. 
 
 IN UNCLE LISHA S SHOP. 
 
 AFTER his adventure with the bear, Uncle Lisha Peggs s 
 shop became more than ever what it had long been, a sort 
 of sportsman s exchange, where, as one of the fraternity 
 expressed it, the hunters and fishermen of the widely scat 
 tered neighborhood met of evenings and dull out-door 
 days "to swap lies." Almost every one had a story to 
 tell, but a few only listened and laughed, grunted, or com 
 mented as the tale told was good, bad or of doubtful au 
 thenticity. And so one October evening, as the rising 
 hunter s moon was streaking the western slopes with 
 shadows of evergreen spires and long paths of white moon 
 light, Uncle Lisha s callers began to drop in by ones and 
 twos. The first comer got the best seat, the broken-backed 
 chair, the next the second best, so accounted, the chair 
 with three legs, though the occupant had to give so much 
 thought to the keeping of his balance, that he sometimes 
 tumbled to the floor when the laugh came in. The later 
 comers had the choice of seats on a roll of sole leather, the 
 cold box-stove, or a board laid across the tub in which 
 Lisha soaked his leather, and the latest the floor, with the 
 privilege of lying at length upon it or setting their backs 
 against the plastered wall. So were disposed a half score 
 of the old cordwainer s neighbors, thus far doing little but 
 smoke, chew, and silently watch Lisha as he hammered
 
 30 UNCLE LISHA S SHOP. 
 
 out, shaped and pegged on the tap of a travel-worn boot 
 as intently as if they were taking lessons in the craft, when 
 Antoine Bassette entered with a polite " Good evelin, 
 One Lasha ; good evelin, all de zhontemans." Then 
 as he looked about he drew forth from one pocket his short 
 black pipe, from another his knife, with which he scraped 
 out the pipe and emptied it on the stove hearth, then he 
 got out from another a twist of greenish -black tobacco, 
 and whittling off a charge and grinding it between his 
 palms, rilled and lighted his pipe at Lisha s candle with 
 such sturdy pulls that the little dip seemed likelier to be 
 quenched than to longer " shine like a good deed in a 
 naughty world." 
 
 "Git aout ! ye dummed peasouper," Lisha shouted, 
 after pounding his fingers instead of a peg in the uncertain 
 light, " you ll hev us all in total moonlight fust ye know ! 
 Take a match er a splinter an light yer pipe like white 
 folks, stiddy suckin my candle aout. Don t ye know 
 what the feller said at was goin t be hung in ten minutes, 
 when they gin him a candle t light his pipe with ? He 
 says, says he, Gimme a match, if ye please, taint 
 healthy t light a pipe with a candle, says he. Take 
 keer f yer health, Ann Twine, f that ere Canady Gov- 
 ner 11 want ye t be wuth hangin , when he gits a holt on 
 ye." 
 
 Hah, naow. One Lasha, said Antoine, dat wus 
 too bad faw you talk so to me. Who help you w en dat 
 bear keel you, hein ? 
 
 " Wai, yes," Lisha rejoined, " ye did help, sartin ; the 
 bear an I done the fightin an you done the runnin . 
 You larnt how to du that in the Pap neau war, an ye 
 lamtitwell, Ann Twine ; ye don t need no more lessons."
 
 UNCLE LISHA S SHOP. 3< 
 
 " Wai, Ah do, seh. Ah wan some bodee show me 
 haow Ah run wid dem boot you mek me f Ah don cah 
 heem in mah han , an den he pooty heavy. But, bah gosh ! 
 wa heem on ma foots? Ah jus leave wa two stofe like 
 daL He be jus so sof , jus so not heavy." 
 
 " Haow d ye spose any body could fit yer dummed 
 Canuck feet arter ye d wore souyaas* ever sen ye was 
 weaned, ker-splash, ker-spotter, till yer feet s wider n they 
 be long ? You git ye some babeeshf an I ll give ye tew 
 sides o sole luther, an then ye can make ye some souyaas, 
 n then put on yer ole trouses at ye could carry a week s 
 p vision in the seat on, an be a Canuck ; ye can t be a 
 Merican, no ways." 
 
 " Ah, One Lasha ! You pooty bad hole man. Haow 
 you feel dat time you link you dead ? Wha you tink 
 you go? A nt you sorry you don t was been mo gooder? 
 Wha you tink you go, hein ?" 
 
 " I do* know," Uncle Lisha slowly responded ; " but 
 I hoped I d go where the wa n t no Canucks !" 
 
 " Dah ! dah ! One Lasha ; you so weeked no use 
 talk to you," cried Antoine, when the laugh in which he 
 joined had subsided ; " f you tole dat leet ly story you 
 beegin dat night, Ah won t said no mo ; you leave off rat 
 in meedly w en de bear shoot heself, an you see Ah got 
 so Yankee Ah mos come dead cause Ah do know de en 
 of it. Dat story, you know, bout man dat cut bread so 
 fas wid shoe-knife. You rembler ?" 
 
 " Le me see," said Lisha, scratching his head with his 
 awl ; " oh, yes, I remember ! Wai, I s pect that s a true 
 story, Ann Twine, an f I tell it ye got t b lieve it." 
 
 * Moccasins. f Rawhide used for sewing moccasins.
 
 32 UNCLE LJSffA S SHOP. 
 
 41 Oh, sartin, One 1 Lasha ; Ah don* b leeve you tole 
 lie no more as Ah do ; no, sah. 
 
 "Humph!" Lisha grunted. 4< I never knowed but 
 one Canuck but what ould lie." 
 
 " An dat was me, One Lasha?" 
 
 No, sir ! He was a dead one ! Wai, the was a 
 shoemaker t lived in Connecticut, an my father knowed 
 him, at hed a knife julluk this" holding up his longest 
 knife 4 the cutest thing t cut bread with t ever was, but 
 he wouldn t let nob dy but his own self use it, so they use 
 ter send fer him to all gret duins t cut the bread fer 
 em. Wai, arter he d ben a-cuttin* raoun for three, fo 
 year, they sent fer him one July to go t Colonel Leaven- 
 worth s gret shearin*. He kep a thousan sheep, an" 
 hed twenty shearers, an made a big splonto, wine in 
 quart mugs an strawb ries rolled in cream, he use ter 
 brag about, but they wan t on y pint mugs n not filled 
 very often at that, an the wine was cider, an the wan t 
 more n tew strawb ries apiece, n they was dried apples. 
 Wai, the shoemaker come with his knife keener n ever, 
 an* the han s an comp ny hed all got washed up for din 
 ner with the clean clo s on, an stood raound watchin 
 on him cut the bread, ker slice, ker slice, faster n a gal 
 could pick up the slices, off m a loaf t he hel agin his 
 breast. He done it so neat t they cheered him, which 
 he got kinder xcited, an tried t cut faster n ever, an 
 the next lick he gin the loaf he cut hisself clean in tew, 
 an* the man at stood behind him clean in tew, an badly 
 waounded the next one. They sot tew an* stuck em 
 together so t they lived, but it spilte the shoemaker s 
 bread-cuttin business, an he hed to go back to shoemakin 
 an starvin , jnlluk me."
 
 UNCLE LISffA S SHOP. 33 
 
 "Wai, sah, One Lasha, " cried Antoine, emphasizing 
 "very word with a gesture, " Ah b lieve dat story, cause 
 Ah promise, baht Ah link twas cause you goin tole it 
 dat bear scrape you so bad. You see, sah, bear is send 
 for punish bad folkses. An t you hear haow bear keel 
 fawty leetly boy cause dey call hoi man he don got no 
 hair on top hees head of it what you call heem bal* ? 
 Ah spec dey be nudder bear long fore soon for ketch 
 hoi man what tole such story, an* den tell Frenchman he 
 don lie honly w en he dead !" 
 
 " Good airth an seas !" Lisha roared, " I du believe 
 one on em would hev the last word f he was deader n a 
 door nail. Wai," he continued, as he put his tools in 
 their places and took off his apron, "it s baout time t 
 honest folks was abed an rogues locked aout, but you 
 needn t hurry none baout goin t bed, Ann Twine." 
 
 Ten minutes later the shop was dark but for the patch 
 of moonlight that shone in through the little window set 
 longwise of the room, and the visitors scattered to their 
 homes.
 
 IV. 
 
 CONCERNING OWLS. 
 
 ONE night when the November wind was growling 
 among the stunted firs that crest old " Tater Hill," al 
 ready grizzly with more than one snowfall, the brotherhood 
 of hunters and fishers, story-tellers and listeners came 
 stumbling along the rough frozen roads and across the 
 frosty fields to Lisha s shop. The little box-stove was 
 no longer cold ; its red jaws grinned defiance at approach 
 ing winter, and its cheeks blushed with a ruddier glow 
 than the summer s rust had given them, and its warmth 
 heightened the odors of tannin, wax and mouldy boots that 
 always hold their own in the atmosphere of the cobbler s 
 shop. The firing of the stove would have unseated two 
 visitors if a couple of sap tubs with a board laid across 
 them had not made room for twice as many, and this was 
 now the coveted first place for the coldest comers to sit in 
 and thaw out their chilled marrows and their wells of con 
 versation. To this extent had Sam Lovel been warmed 
 when he opened his lean jaws, and said with a sigh of 
 pent up satisfaction, " Ah, wal, Uncle Lisher, I ketched 
 a-nuther bear t day. 
 
 " Du tell !" said Lisha, drawing hard on the waxed 
 
 ends with which he was closing up a ripped boot-leg. 
 
 Wal, Sam, was he s heavy s ole Cap n Powerses hawg 
 
 was? Killed tew havvgs terday, says e, both on em
 
 UNCLE LISHA S SHOP. 35 
 
 good ones, but one on em was a sollaker, I tell ye 
 weighed ninety ! Was ye bear s heavy s that, Sam ?" 
 
 " Wai," Sam asked, " haows three hund ed an seventy- 
 seven ? That s his heft ezackly. " 
 
 " Real weight or guess weight ?" some one asked. 
 
 "Why, real weight, f course, an no guessin baout 
 it" 
 
 " Where d ye weigh him ?" 
 
 " T* hum," Sam replied shortly. 
 
 " Sho !" sneered the doubter, " ye hain t got no scales 
 nor bolances ! Haow could ye weigh im t hum ?" 
 
 " Wai, naow, I did weigh im fair an hones , an* he 
 \veighed jist ezackly what I tell ye. I c n lift jist three 
 hund ed an fifty paound, an I couldn t lift him inter 
 j e-s-t twenty-seven paound. Naow f that don t make 
 vhree hund ed and seventy-seven, I hain t got no reth- 
 01 y tic." 
 
 A long young man, whose arms and shanks seemed to 
 have lengthened beyond his means to keep them clothed, 
 ventured to say as he looked admiringly upon his new 
 buckskin mittens, too precious to be taken off his hands, 
 but kept opening and closing and turning on them just 
 before his eyes, " The s a painter a-hantin on Hawg s 
 Back, I du raly b lieve ; I hearn the gol darnedest yollupin 
 up there t other night, julluk a womern a hollerin , n I 
 hollered, n it arnswered, an kep comin nigher, n 
 then I started my boots fer hum, I tell ye !" 
 
 " Sho ! Sho I Peltier, you git aout !" Lisha roared, 
 for he was apt to think it his exclusive right to see and 
 hear all strange things first. " Twan t nothin but a big 
 aowl, I bet ye I" 
 
 Twan t no aowl," cried Pelatiah, clapping his mit-
 
 36 UNCLE LISHA S SHOP. 
 
 tened palms together with a resounding smack ; " twas a 
 annymill ! Guess I know an aowl when 1 hear im 1" 
 
 " Wai, mebby twas a lynk. A lynk "11 git up a c nsid- 
 able f a skeery yowlin . N mebby twas tew ole tomcats 
 a-fightin up t ye west barn. D ye ever hear, boys," 
 Lisha continued, without waiting for any reply from 
 Pelatiah, " baout Joel Bartlett s Irishmun t he sent up int 
 the aidge o the parster a-choppin one day ? Didn t ye, 
 none on ye ? Wai, up he went, and bimeby he come 
 a-runnin back scairt half ter death, an hollerin Mur- 
 ther ! oh, murther ! it s a painter I seen, sure s me name s 
 Pat Murphy ! Show I says Joel, haow d he look, 
 Partrick ? 
 
 Wai, says Pat, he was yolly, sur, an he had a long 
 tail on im. 
 
 " Wai, naow, Partrick, wa n t it aour ole yaller tom 
 cat ? 
 
 " Be gob, sur, it moight, sez Pat, an he lit his pipe 
 an went back to his choppin s contented s if the hedn t 
 never been a painter in V mont " 
 
 Pelatiah s panther being thus contemptuously disposed 
 of, the conversation turned for a time to owls. 
 
 " Aowls, " said Lisha, as he rolled a waxed end upon 
 his aproned knee, " 11 make turable onairthly an skeery 
 noises, p tic ly big aowls, which the s more n one kind 
 on em, hoot aowls, an white aowls n I d know what 
 aowls. I ve hed em make my hair stan right stret up, 
 sen I was older n Peltier is, tew." 
 
 " Wai, I don t keer a darn what ye say," said Pelatiah, 
 after breathing through the back of his right-hand mitten 
 to assure himself for the hundredth time that it was genuine 
 buckskin, " twan t no aowl t I heard, twas a annymill!
 
 UNCLE LISHA S SHOP. 37 
 
 F 1 bed me a rifle I d go a-huntin on im ;" but he 
 could arouse no interest in his panther further than the 
 offer from Jonas Gove of his rifle for half the bounty, if 
 the panther was killed, or half a dollar a day for the use 
 of the weapon, which was declined. 
 
 Tom Hamlin said that he had heard "a dozen gret 
 aowls a-hootin an a-shoutin as he come along." 
 
 " Yaas, Tawmus," said Solon Briggs, who was weather- 
 wise as well as wise in other things, " so d I, an the s 
 goin to be some kind o fallin weather fore long, you 
 see f the hain t" 
 
 Wai, yas, Tom assented, most allus the is artei 
 they hoot so. Haow d y caount for it, Sole ?" 
 
 " Waal, I ll tell ye, Tawmus. I ve meddytated on . 
 c nsid able, an my idee s this" crossing his legs and 
 putting his right forefinger into the palm of his left hand 
 *" D ye ever have the rheumatiz ?" 
 
 " Yas, I ve hed em." 
 
 " N wa n t they wus fore a storm?" 
 
 Tom nodded repeatedly, and said, They was wus. 
 
 " Waal, naow then," Solon continued, " the aowls t 
 we hear is big aowls, an nat ally they re ol aowls, n* 
 they ve got the rheumatiz, an when the s a storm a-comin 
 on the rheumatiz begin to rack em, an* they holler aouL 
 Hain t that re son ble naow, and " looking around upon 
 the company and bringing down his finger with a clinking 
 smack upon his palm "and phillysoffycable, so to 
 speak ?" 
 
 " P haps," said Lisha, as he rasped his knife upon the 
 sandstone, " someb dy could tell us suthin baout shootin 
 aowls ; haow is it, Jozeff ?" he asked, looking between his 
 shaggy eyebrows and the top of his spectacles at a thick-set
 
 38 UNCLE LISffA S SHOP. 
 
 fellow who was taking his ease in a farther corner of the 
 shop. 
 
 " Naow, Lisher," said Joseph, "you keep on tellin 
 yer stories an lemme lone, if you please." 
 
 "Jozeff, " said Lisha in a terrible voice, shaking his 
 knife at the unwilling story-teller, " you tell baout ye 
 shootin the aowl, er I will !" 
 
 " Wai, then," said Joseph, slowly getting into a sitting 
 posture, and knocking the ashes from his pipe, " I guess 
 vou d make it wus n I would, n so I ll tell it. Ye see, 
 tne was a big aowl come, gol blast him, an kerried off 
 half a dozen, I d know but more no, mebbe baout that 
 maount o M ri s chickins, an I tole M ri, I did, t I d 
 fix him fore he knowed it. So next night, er I guess 
 raebbe next night arter one er t other, anyhaow I looked 
 aout the winder, an I seen him a-sittin on a clo s 
 pos , an" I got my gun, I did. M ri open the winder 
 kinder easy, an I poked the gun aout an* onhitched on 
 im ; but somehaow the gun wa n t loaded fur aowls, er 
 I was too fas , er suthin, an* I never tetched im ! Shot 
 over, I s pose anyway, I thought I did. Wai, next 
 Monday night when the clo s was all a-hangin aout, he 
 come agin, he did, an sot on the same clo s pos . I hed 
 the ole gun all ready, an M ri open the winder agin, an 
 I run er aout, an took dead aim a foot below th aowl, 
 fur says I to myself, says I, I won t overshoot this time, 
 says I, an I let flicker, an I be darned if I didn t miss 
 him, but, by gosh ! I blowed my harnsome shirt t hung 
 right below im all to flinders. It tickled M ri t think t 
 I made sech a good shot, an I spec she tol on it ; I 
 didn t, not fust, I don t b lieve ; n Lisher. darn his ole 
 picter, he got holt on it. " When the laugh subsided,
 
 UNCLE LISHA S SHOP. 39 
 
 Joseph added, "Wai, twa n t a bear, V he didn t tear 
 my insides aout, if my shirt did git tore !" 
 
 Uncle Lisha tossed the mended boot to its owner, who 
 sat nursing the stockinged foot to which it belonged, and 
 aying aside his tools arose and took off his apron, which 
 was a signal to his visitors to depart, and so they presently 
 disappeared in lu^ dim starlight of the November night.
 
 V. 
 
 UNCLE LISHA S COURTING. 
 
 THOUGH in mid-day there was yet a hazy after-taste of 
 the sweetness of Indian summer, the season was beginning 
 to have a smack of winter in its night air. On such an 
 evening, as the first star began to shine above the rounded 
 peak of Tater Hill, Lisha rubbed the mist off a pane of his 
 long, low shop window, and stooping his eye to it, peered 
 out upon the darkening road. Out of the gloaming pres 
 ently grew some dark shapes into men, the sound of whose 
 footsteps and voices came a little before them. When they 
 and others had entered and been welcomed by Lisha, he 
 having lighted his pipe and taken some work in hand, de 
 clared " the meetin open," and that they " was all ready 
 to transack business." Little was said till some one 
 remarked, " Pwheeew !" And then all became aware 
 that an odor more pungent and powerful than those of 
 leather and shoemaker s wax was pervading the atmosphere 
 of the shop. 
 
 "Good airth an seas!" cried Lisha, "I secont the 
 motion ! Le s all whew ! Some on ye stepped on suthin 
 t night, or somebody got skunk s ile to sell." 
 
 Each took a sniff of his neighbor till the source of the 
 fragrance was traced to Pelatiah s corner, when he shame 
 facedly confessed that he " hed ben a-trappin a leetle, " 
 but said in extenuation, " I sot fer mink. I hed one trap
 
 UNCLE LISHA S SHOP. 41 
 
 sot in a holler log over to Hillses brook, with a raster s 
 head fer bait, an* when I went tu it yist day, the trap was 
 hauled int the log. I pulled on the chain c nsid able 
 stout, but it didn t le go a bit, an then I god daown on 
 all fours an peeked in to see what the matter was ailded 
 it, an oh, gosh all Connet cutt ! My eyes hain t god 
 done smartin yit ! I rolled an I tumbled till I got to 
 water, n then I washed an rubbed an scrubbed till I 
 c ld see nuthin sides stars and fire, an then I went hum 
 an baried all them clo s, an washed me in three waters 
 an smudged me with hemlock browse, an , gosh darn it 
 all, I didn t spose I wa n t all sweetened aout ! F my 
 comp ny hain t greeable I ll dig fer hum. " 
 
 " Sho !" Lisha shouted, with hearty politeness, " guess 
 we c n stan it f you can I S fer me, I ruther like a 
 leetle good fresh skunk parfum ry. The s some at eats 
 em" rolling his eye toward a known mephitipophagist 
 "an I sh d think them at likes the taste would the 
 smell. Furdermore, I m beholden to skunks fer c nsid 
 able myself. Keep yerself comf table, Peltier. 
 
 No one objected to Pelatiah s presence, and several asked 
 Lisha how he was indebted to skunks for anything. 
 
 " Wai," said he, slowly scraping the sole of a boot with 
 a bit of broken glass, while his thoughts went backward 
 over the rough path of his life, in the fust place, when I 
 was a leetle chap they cured me o croup with skunk s ile, 
 which they gi n it ter me spoo ful arter spoo ful, an 
 greesed my stomerk with it outside, tew. An then arter 
 I d got growed up, skunk essence cured me of azmy. An 
 then I don t scasely b lieve I d ha ever got Jerushy f t 
 hed n t a been fer a skunk !" 
 
 After the " wal I swans," and " goshes," and "you
 
 42 UNCLE LISHA S SHOP. 
 
 don t says," which this declaration called forth, there was 
 a general demand for an explanation, and Lisha laid down 
 his boot and glass, and devoted himself wholly to the tell 
 ing of his story, with his elbows on his knees and locking 
 and unlocking his waxy fingers as he talked, as if so he 
 wove the woof of his tale. 
 
 " I never sot no gret on ole folks tellin of what they d 
 did, or ben, or hed when t they was younger, but when 
 Jerushy was Jerushy Chase she was baout s pooty a gal 
 as c Id be dug up in tew, three taowns, an as smart and 
 cap ble, an nat lly she was sought arter, an none the less 
 cause her father was tol able well off. When I begin 
 a-sparkin on her, I hed n t nothin much but my tew 
 hands, was a-workin aout by the month for this one an 
 that one for six or eight months, an I d larnt to shoemake 
 a leetle, so s t I whipped the cat * winters, so ye see I 
 was arnin suthin all the time, an I wa n t sech a humbly 
 ole critter s I be naow, so s t I stood jes s good a 
 chance as any o the fellers, till bimeby the come a chap 
 to teach aour deestrick school, a college feller f m Middle- 
 bury. He was a clever creeter, an smart, an good-natured 
 an hahnsome, c ld rastle like a bear, n sing like a 
 boblink, n wore hahnsome clo s every day, so all the 
 gals most was a-ravin an a-rarin arter him. Jerushy 
 wa n t, though, an that made him the faster and fircer 
 arter her. An so arter awhile his pooty talk an hahn 
 some clo s an all them college things begin to work on 
 her, n she git so t she d mos lives I would n t come 
 Sunday nights as not. 
 
 * " Whipping the cat" is working from house to house at shoe- 
 making or tailoring, as was a common custom in old times.
 
 vNCLE LISHA S SHOP. 43 
 
 " So it ran along till tow- ward the middle o sugarin , 
 she a-favorin him a leetle mor n me of the tew, an the 
 was goin to be a gret sugarin off to Hillses, n most 
 everbody hed a wvite. I went n ast Jerushy to go long 
 with me, n she said she didn t know ; guessed she d go 
 long with the one at come arter her fust. Thinks, says I, 
 Mr. Schoolmarster, f you get to Uncle Chase s fore I 
 du, you ll hafter pull foot for it lively. So long in the 
 middle o the art noon I got my chores all ddne up, an 
 dressed me an put off. I put crost lots, n I hedn t 
 got fur when darned if I didn t see that tarnal schoolmar- 
 ster jest a-goin int the aidge o Meeker s Woods, pintin 
 for Uncle Chase s, n nearer tu it n I was. I doubled 
 my jumps an got there, an tole Jerushy I d got there 
 fust n she d got to go long with me. She kinder hung 
 off, lookin outen the winder every onct an awhile, but 
 nary a schoolmarster ! An so bimeby she got rigged up, 
 an* off we went, an had a gret carummux to the sugarin . 
 She kep a-sythin an a-peekin fer a spell, but nary a 
 schoolmarster, an then she got desput jolly, n made 
 more fun n the hull toot on em. Goin hum in the 
 moonshine, I ast her to jine me in a sugarin for life, an 
 fore we got to the chips in the do yard she greed she 
 would, an here we be ! Me on this ere shoebench, an 
 she," lifting his voice and pointing a waxy forefinger at 
 the door that opened into the kitchen, " an she a-peekin 
 through the crack o that ere door !" The door squeaked 
 suddenly to, and the wooden latch clicked rather spitefully. 
 
 " Wai," said one disappointed auditor, breaking the 
 short ensuing silence, " wha d all that hev ter du with a 
 skunk ?" 
 
 "Oh, nuthin much," said Lisha, "only ye see that
 
 44 UNCLE LISHA S SHOP. 
 
 feller was a-shovin long the best he knowed, through the 
 woods in a wood road, an fust thing he run spat ont a 
 skunk aout takin a walk. The skunk wouldn t run, an 
 he wouldn t, an it turned aout con try to scriptur. The 
 battle was to the strong, an the race was to the swift. 
 The schoolmarster smelt loud nough to fill a forty-acre 
 lot, an so the wa n t no schoolmarster t Chases nor t 
 the sugarin -off, nor t the school in that deestrick that 
 spring, nor nothin left on him in the deestrick but his 
 parfume. So, ye see, a skunk hed suthin t du with his 
 scaseness, which I c nsider myself c nsid able beholden to 
 skunks. 
 
 Bah gosh, said Antoine, Ah don f red for skonk. 
 me ! Ah tek hoi of it hees tails an lif im aup, he can 
 do sometings ! No, sah !" 
 
 " Twouldn t make no diff ence tu ye if he did," said 
 Lisha ; a skunk s nat-ral weepon hain t nothin but double 
 d stilled biled-daown essence of inyuns, n* ye couldn t 
 hurt a Canuck wi that" 
 
 " Bah gosh, guess you fin aout f he hurt you, you git 
 him on you heyesight, whedder you Canuck or somebody. 
 Ant it, Peltiet, hein ?" 
 
 Said Solon Briggs, Might I arise to ask you, Antwine, 
 Anthony, or Anto-ni-o, all of which I suppose you ter be, 
 haow du you prevent the aout-squirtin of the viles o 
 wrath whilst you air a-proachin of the mestiforious quad 
 ruple head ? 
 
 " Wai, M sieu Brigg, dat someting you got t lam bah 
 ah what you call it, pracsit ? 
 
 " Perhaps Peltier d lend ye one o his n to practyseon, 
 Solon," Lisha suggested, but Solon expressed no desire 
 to acquire the art of capturing skunks by that method.
 
 UNCLE LTSHA S SHOP. 45 
 
 * They raly can t scent when you hoi em up by the 
 tail, n that s a fact," said Joseph Hill. "I remember 
 onct when I was a boy ten r dozen year ol I d know. 
 mebby 1 was fourteen lemme see, twas the year t father 
 hed the brindle caow die t hed twin calves ; got choked 
 with an apple no t wa n t, t was a later they was fo 
 ye r oles when he sole em, the fall t I was seventeen 
 no, I wa n t but thirteen the was a skunk got int the 
 suller, n of course we didn t want to kill im there, so 
 my oldest brother, Lije, he took a holt on im by the tail 
 an kerried im aout the hatchway with a pair o tongs, 
 an then he gin im to me, an I hel im up while he 
 shot im. He put the ol gun clus to his head an blowed 
 *im clean aouten the tongs as fur s crost this shop, n* 
 by gol, he never scent one mite till then, no more n 
 snowball. 
 
 " Did he die ?" asked the ever-alert seeker after useful 
 knowledge. 
 
 " Why, yes," Joseph replied, " he jes stunk hisself to 
 death, then." 
 
 " Jozeff," said Lisha, "that ere puts me in mind of 
 the Paddy. Divil a nade o shootin him, says he; 
 lave him alone, an sure he ll shtink himself to death. 
 What a tarnal time the creeturs du hev wi skunks fore 
 they git quainted with em. Member the ol story one 
 on em tol ? What was t, Sam ?" 
 
 Sam repeated the time honored tale. The furs toime 
 iver I wint hoontin in Ameriky was wan day whin I was 
 gown to me woruk, an I kilt a boird call t a skoonk. I 
 threed hur undher a hayshtack an shot hur wid me 
 sphade, an the furs toime I hit hur I misht hur, an the 
 nixt toime I hit hur where I misht hur afore. An whin
 
 46 UNCLE LISffA S SHOP. 
 
 I wint to plook the feathers off hur, I was foorced to shkin 
 hur, an in doun that I shtruck hur ile bag or hur heart I 
 dunno, an the shmell nearly suffocaytit me, an I was 
 near shtarvin afther, for divil a dhrink cud I take, but the 
 shmell of hur was in me noshtrils to kape me awake all 
 night. I like to died," Sam continued, "to hear Joel 
 Bartlett s Irishmun tell baout the fust skunk t he ever 
 met. Twas when he was in Masschusitts, Maxacushin 
 he called it He ben a-workin on a railroad, an lived in 
 a shanty as yit, though he was workin fer a farmer. Says 
 he, I wor a-shpadin round threes m a yoong archard, 
 an Tom Egan, the divil, was in id wid me, an I seen 
 caperin troo the grass a foine shlip av a young cat, an 
 says I to Tom, says I, " Begob, I ll capshure it to kill the 
 mice in the curse o God shanty that s near dhrivin me 
 dishthracktit. " " Do," says he to me, an the divil know- 
 in in his own moind what it was. An away I wint in 
 purshuit, an whin I was about to lay me two hands on id, 
 I was shtruck in me face an the two eyes av me wid a 
 shtream av the divil s own wather, an I was blindit an 
 shtrangled entirely. But I joomped on the baste wid me 
 boots an kilt it, I was that choked wid rage, an a grea 
 d 1 beside, an thin I wint away back to Tom, but divil a 
 near him wud he let me come, the bla gyard, an I call t 
 out, " Tom ! " says I, " am I kilt entirely, an is it me, or 
 is it the divil s father of a baste that be s makin the noto 
 rious shtink altogether?" says I. "Begob!" says he, 
 " it s the both ov yees, an ye 11 shmell that bad an maybe 
 worse for a year, " says he. "Ah, thin," I cried, " millia 
 murthers, I m ruinaytit ! " an so skoolked away home to 
 the curse o God shanty, an whin I wint in Biddy an the 
 childher wint out, an I had the shanty an the shmell all
 
 UNCLE LISHA S SHOP. 47 
 
 to meself. Well, I berrit me clo s, an I sailed back an 
 forth troo the pond o wather till night, but divil a much 
 betther did I shmell for a week. Oh, bad luck to the 
 counthry that nurtures such cats ! 
 
 " Dat Arish," Antoine remarked, "a nt spik so good 
 Angleesh lak Ah do, don t it?" 
 
 The slim candle in the sconce had burned so low that 
 when Lisha attempted to snuff it with his fingers he pulled 
 it out and it dropped upon the floor, and sputtering out, 
 left the shop in darkness except for the thin streaks of 
 firelight that shone through the cracks of the stove and the 
 dim rays of stars slanting in at the little window. The mis 
 hap was accepted as a unanimous vote of adjournment, 
 and stumbling and groping their way to the door, Lisha s 
 guests again departed.
 
 VI. 
 
 HOW ZENE BURNHAM COME IT ON HIS FATHER. 
 
 THE first snowfall of the season was sifting down on the 
 little valley from a dull sky one November evening when 
 Lisha s friends began to gather in his little shop. Each one, 
 as he entered and stamped the snow off his boots, made some 
 remark concerning this latest turn of the weather, as in 
 duty bound by ancient usage: " Snowin ," "Snowin 
 c nsid able kind o smart," " Gittin some snow at last," 
 said one and another, and one ventured to " guess t 
 we re goin to git some sleighin fur Thanksgivin , arter 
 all." 
 
 " Wai, I d know baout that," said the oracular Solon 
 Briggs, seating himself in the best place behind the stove, 
 with his elbows on his knees and his hands spread to catch 
 the heat ; " I knowed at t was goin to snow, an said t 
 was, an it does snow, but I took a notice every sen I 
 commenced my pilligridge (I wou say, my pilgigrim) that 
 when the snow comes on ter the graound when it s con- 
 joled that is, when it s froze, it hain t a-goin t stay on 
 an -dure long. Why it is I do know, but so it is as 
 fur as my observations has went." 
 
 " Honh !" snorted Lisha, who was rummaging a shelf 
 for a desired last ; " mebby so, but I guess No. 12, that s 
 it I guess t we ll hev sleighin fur Thanksgivin . But 
 dum the sleighin , I wish t I hed a turkey fer Thanks-
 
 UNCLE LISHA S SHOP. 49 
 
 givin s big s what my boy t lives in the Hio tells o 
 hevin there, wild ones, tu, t weighs thirty, forty paound ! 
 What ye think o that ? 
 
 " I daoubt it," was Sam Level s laconic response, and 
 there was a stir of approval in the audience. 
 
 " Daoubt it !" shouted Lisha. " Good airth an" seas ! 
 my boy wouldn t lie an aounce on the weight of a ele 
 phant. Thirty n forty paound, that s what he writ." 
 
 " Wai, I daoubt it," Sam repeated ; " jes think on t, 
 that s mos half as much as Cap n Power s hawg weighed, 
 n he was a sollaker, ye know. Turkeys ain t in the 
 habit o growin so big." 
 
 " Not here, I know they hain t," Lisha admitted. 
 
 "No," Solon interrupted, " fer it hain t their nart ral 
 climax. They hain t abregoines here." * 
 
 "No," Lisha continued, " n then things grows bigger 
 there n what they does here. Why, the corn grows so 
 high t they have to climb up a ladder to bind the stocks, 
 n my boy writ t the punkins grow d so big in the Hio 
 that a six-foot man stan in stret up couldn t tech the top 
 on em ! What ye think o that?" 
 
 "Oh, shaw ! Git aout ! Go to grass!" were the 
 comments on this statement. 
 
 " Yes, boys, it s sartinly so," Lisha persisted, with the 
 twinkle of his eyes showing through his dim glasses. " I 
 didn t scacely b lieve it myself, n I sot down n writ 
 George a letter n ast im ef that was r aly so, an he writ 
 back it sartinly was. A six-foot man couldn t tech the 
 top o one on em not thaout stoopin jest a lee- tie. 
 Haw ! Haw ! Haw ! Ho !" 
 
 * Solon is supposed to have meant aborigines.
 
 50 UNCLE LISHA S SHOP. 
 
 " Oh, aw," said Solon. " Yes, George writ ironical, 
 in sportyve jeest, as it ware." 
 
 " Wai," said Lisha, when he had done laughing, and 
 had got the last inside of a great boot that needed tapping, 
 " le s p cede to business, s they say in the leegislatur. 
 We was talkin baout aowls t other night, wa n t we? 
 Solon he tol what made em hoot, n Jozeff he tol 
 baout shootin one. Hain t ye got nothin furder con- 
 cernin the faowl, Jozeff?" 
 
 "Id* know," Joseph Hill responded. " Lemme see. 
 Didn t none on ye never hear how Zene Burnham come 
 it on his father ?" 
 
 If any one had heard it he made no sign, and Joseph 
 proceeded with his tale. 
 
 " Yes, sir, his own father 1 Oh, what a darned crutter 
 he was ! Ye know the hain t no spring nigh the ole 
 man s, so they ve got a well ; puty good water, tew that 
 is, for water, with a reg lar ole- fashion sweep do know 
 though, mebby they ve got in a pump naow. Lemme 
 see, didn t Morrison sell m a pump ? Seem t me the 
 did. Wai, t do make no diffunce, they hed a well- 
 sweep then. One night in the fall I guess twas ; yes, 
 know twas well nough, for fall s the aowliesttime o year 
 Zene he come tippytoein int the haouse n spoke low 
 t the ol man, an says he, Father, the s the all-tummut- 
 tablest gret hoot aowl a-settin on the top o the well- 
 sweep ! Git the gun an shoot im. You c n shoot better 
 n I can in the dark. The ol man kinder thought Zene 
 was a-foolin on im, but Zene said for im to go an see 
 for hisself ; so the ole man got the gun, n twas loaded for 
 fox, an stuck a piece o white paper ont the sight, an 
 crep aout the back door n raound t the naw west corner
 
 UNCLE L/SHA S SHOP. 51 
 
 o the haouse lemme see ; no, twas the naw-east no 
 twa n t nuther, twas the naw-west corner an peeked 
 raound, n there he seen the aowl, an ol whopper, settin 
 up there, jes as demute ! An he drawed up an took 
 dead aim, he did, n onhitched, n the aowl never stirred ! 
 Wai, I ll be dummed to dumnation, says he, What n 
 thunderation s the motter I didn t kill im? You ben 
 drawin the shot aouten this gun, Zene ? Hain t 
 teched the darned ol gun, says Zene. You hit im in 
 ihe head an stunted im ; load up an give im nother 
 dost, says he. So they went back in an loaded up agin, 
 an the ol man crep aout agin, n there sot the aowl yit, 
 an the ol man blazed away agin, n by gosh ! the aowl 
 never stirred agin ! Then the ol man he swore it beat 
 the devil, if t wa n t the devil hisself, but Zene tole im t 
 he knowed he d killed im. Pull daown the sweep, 
 says he, n git im. He s sartinly deader n hay. So 
 the ol man sot daown the gun an begin tu pull daown 
 the sweep jes as keerful, a-watchin the aowl all the time 
 as he come daown, never makin a motion. When he 
 git him clus tu an was jest a goin to take a holt on im, 
 he seen t wa n t nothin but a all-fired gret big cabbage 
 tied on t the end of the sweep ! My ! f the ol man 
 wa n t mad ! Zene he put er for in t the haouse n up 
 stairs n int bed, n by mornin the ol man hed got 
 good natur d agin, but ye didn t want to say aowl to 
 him right off." 
 
 "Did he hit the cabbage?" was asked by him of an 
 inquiring turn of mind. 
 
 " Those ere saw- whet aowls," Solon Briggs remarked, 
 clearing his throat, " is a curosity thing a frik o natur 
 daown to her onsignificantest teches a nart ral
 
 52 UNCLE LISHA S SHOP. 
 
 fewnonnymon, so to speak. A puffick aowl, minus th 
 gretness of the die-mentionist kinds." 
 
 " Wai, they be small, but reg lar aowls, " said Sam 
 Lovel. Cut the head off m one n he 11 lack a aounce o 
 weighin . I shot one on em outen a tree jes to see what 
 he was, n he come a-floatin daown julluk a bunch o 
 feathers. 
 
 "An* their vocal voice," put in Solon, "is the fact 
 smile of sharpnin a saw. 
 
 " Guess t is, " said Sam, " egg-zack ! Makes me think 
 o one time t ol Mist Van Brunt f m New York s up 
 here a-lookin arter his lumbrin intrus. Twas long airly 
 n the spring n he was ridin "long hoss-back n the 
 evenin , n when he got daown int Stunny Brook holler, 
 he hearn someb dy a-ri!in a sawmill saw, screet er scree/, 
 er screet er. Some o them dum maounting Aribs, says 
 he, hes got a sawmill right here in the hairt o my 
 woods ! Hello you ! he hollered, but the file kep 
 a-goin , screet er screet, er screet I You owdacious 
 villing ! says he he allus used high duck langwuage 
 you owdacious villing ! I ll prosecute ye to the extents 
 o the law, says he, and he rid his hoss int the woods 
 where he hearn the noise, n his sto pipe hat ketched on 
 a limb an tumbled off, n his hoss stumbled agin a ruht 
 n throwed im off, n then the noise o filin stopped, 
 n then in two, three minutes it begin agin furder off. 
 The pirutical scoundril, says the ol gentleman, hez 
 got his dum sawmill on wheels ! n he got back int 
 the path an rid ont the tarvern thaout no hat. When he 
 got there he tol Hamlin (he kep it then) what he d hearn, 
 n Hamlin he laughed, n says he, Mist Van Brunt, t 
 wa n t nothin but a saw-whet t you hearn. A saw-
 
 UNCLE LISHA S SHOP. 53 
 
 whet ! says th ol gentleman, I know it, but a two- 
 legged saw-whet, sir. Yes, says Hamlin, two-legged, 
 but he wears feathers stiddy clo s, n xplained. Then 
 the ol gentleman laughed at hisself, an treated the hull 
 craowd, a dozen on em, to ole Jamaiky sperrits t he 
 brought with him f m York twenty ye r ole, they said t 
 was. " 
 
 "Gosh I" ejaculated Joseph Hill, with a watering 
 mouth, " wish t I d a ben there !" 
 
 " Ben where ?" asked he of the inquiring mind. 
 
 " The study of nart ral hist ry things," Solon remarked, 
 " is a most stumenduous subjeck, cal lated to fill the 
 human mind of man with er er ah " 
 
 " Puddin an milk," shouted Lisha, as he drove the 
 last peg in the wide sole of the boot, " n I tend to ha" 
 some an go to bed. 
 
 So saying he took off his battle-scarred apron, and his 
 guests departed, and faded with silent footsteps into the 
 dusky whiteness of the snowy night.
 
 VII. 
 
 A RAINY DAY IN THE SHOP. 
 
 ONE gloomy day in November several of Uncle Lisha s 
 friends, realizing the fact that it rained too hard to work 
 aou door," that it was too wet even for comfortable hunt 
 ing, and that it was too late in the season for fishing, be 
 took themselves singly and in couples to the shop to pass 
 away the time which hung with unendurable heaviness 
 upon their hands at home. There was a genial warmth 
 radiating from the full fed rusty little stove, and a mild 
 sunshine from the kindly face of the old shoemaker that 
 made the rude interior seem exceedingly comfortable in 
 contrast with the dismal chill and dampness of the out 
 door world, and the clatter of the hammer on the lapstone 
 was a much more cheerful sound than the leaden patter of 
 the rain on roof and pane and fallen leaves. But though 
 the new comers gave some impassive signs of appreciation 
 of the change from out-door discomfort to in-door com 
 fort, they seemed to have brought in with them too much 
 of the exterior atmosphere ; it exhaled from their wet gar 
 ments and dulled spirits till their host felt it and resented it 
 
 " Good airth an" seas, boys, what s the motter ails ye, 
 all on ye? Ye ain t no sociabler n a passel o snails 
 holdin a meetin n under a cabbage leaf ! Tain t a 
 fun el. By mighty, it s wus, for the hain t no preachin* 
 ner singin , ner even sighthin ner cryin . Why don t some
 
 UXCLE LISHA S SHOP. 55 
 
 on ye up an die an kinder liven up things a leetle mite, 
 hey?" 
 
 While Solon Briggs was swelling up with explanatory 
 words too big lor speedy utterance, Joseph Hill remarked, 
 as he searched all his pockets for the pipe and tobacco 
 that he never knew where to find, " I spect, as Joel Bart- 
 lett says when he takes a notion to start off on a preachin 
 taower, at we ve all on us got a weighty consarn on aour 
 mind, Uncle Lisher. " 
 
 " Wai, Jozeff hes spoke, an that s incouragin*. Naow, 
 let another, as Brother Foot says in prayer-meetin ." 
 
 " Jozeff s speakin ," continued Uncle Lisha, after wait 
 ing a moment for a response, " puts me in mind o his 
 dawg at he uster hev, at nob dy never knowed to du 
 nothin on y eat an" sleep, an" bark a folks goin long 
 baout the business, an at the moon nights, when folks 
 vas extry tired an wantin t sleep more n common but 
 Couldn t, caount o his tarnal bow-wowin an yollopin . 
 Jozeff, howsever, was allus a-tellin what a good dawg 
 ne was, an even went the len th o sayin t he was harn- 
 some ! A yaller dawg, an harnsome ! Hain t that so, 
 Jozeff ? Don t ye deny it !" he roared, glaring at his visit 
 or between his eyebrows and the rims of his spectacles, as 
 he began to fashion a slow, dubious " wal " with his lips. 
 " Yes," he continued, " good an hamsome, he said he 
 was. You never seen a man at hed him a dawg at 
 wa n t a-braggin baout him on some pint. That s one 
 reason at I don t hev me a dawg. I hain t no gift o 
 braggin . Nuther is, I hain t no use for a dawg in my 
 business. Wal," picking out the soggy "heel" of his 
 pipe with a crooked awl, " one day when Samwill here 
 an mongst em was exhaltin of the horns an a-blowin
 
 56 UNCLE LISHA S SHOP. 
 
 on em baout the haoun dawgs, Jozeff he up an begin 
 blowin his n abaout his n. Someb dy nuther ast him, 
 What 11 he du ? Did he ever tree a coon ? No, says 
 Jozeff. Er hole a woo chuck ? No. Er drive a 
 k yow er a hawg ? Wai, not ezackly drive em. Er 
 ta keer o the haouse ? Wai, he s allus there, but I 
 do know s he raly takes keer on t. Wai, then, what 
 on airth is he good f or ? Wai, says Jozeff, says he, 
 arter c nsid able c nsid rin , he s comp ny ! An ," 
 said Uncle Lisha when he had blown through his pipe after 
 clearing the stem with a waxed end, " I ll be dum d f 
 I wouldn t druther hev Jozeff Hill s ol yaller dawg for 
 comp ny n t hev sech a consarned mumpin set as you 
 be." 
 
 The only responses were a general though feeble and 
 perfunctory laugh and an apologetic remark from Solon 
 Briggs that " when the caloric of the warmth had pene 
 trated the water aouten their garments they would be more 
 conversationabler," which Antoine endeavored to make 
 more easily comprehended by explaining, " Yas, One 
 Lasha, when we ll gat aour froze t aw aout we ll got aour 
 speak t aw aout. 
 
 A little later the constant searcher for information broke 
 the silence by asking Joseph Hill, " Whatever be become 
 o that ere dawg at Uncle Lisher ben speakin on ?" 
 
 " M ri sol him tu a peddler," said Joseph, with a sigh 
 of regret for his lost companion. " M ri didn t never set 
 no gret store by dawgs, though the be women at likes to 
 hev a dawg raound, for all the makin b lieve hate em 
 likes to hev em raound to lay things onter, bad smells 
 an sech, an broken airthenware, an t buse wal, I do 
 know as buse ezackly, but tu vent the feelin s on. But
 
 UNCLE LISffA S SHOP. 57 
 
 M ri never bused Liern, though I don t think he raly 
 nj yed her comp ny, specially moppin days an when 
 she was sweepin* aout. " 
 
 " Wai, I do know s I blame anybody much for mum- 
 pin sech weather," said Uncle Lisha, relenting, as while 
 he ground the pegs from the inside of a newly-tapped 
 boot he gazed abstractedly out of the rain-pelted little 
 window upon the blurred landscape ; the sodden dun 
 fields bounded by the gray wall of mountain with its drift 
 ing coping of mist all dun and gray but for one poplar 
 that shone like a pale flame among the ashy trunks and 
 branches of its burned -out companions, and when a gust 
 fanned it, showered down its yellow leaves like sparks 
 from a flaring torch. " I do know s I blame any on ye 
 much ; sech weather s tumble hefty on the sperits. F I 
 hed me a pint, er mebby a quart o cider brandy, er ol 
 Jamacky sperits, I raly b lieve I d git so condemned boozy 
 t I couldn t see aouten the winder f t wa n t for makin 
 an mendin these ere dum d ol boots an shoes, I 
 would, by golly blue !" 
 
 " I snum ! I sh ld like ter help ye, Uncle Lisher, " said 
 Joseph Hill, smacking his lips. 
 
 N it s mos* Thanksgivin time," Lisha went on ; 
 "I b lieve the day s ben sot by the Gov ner, hain t it? 
 Seem s ough I seen it in the last V monler. Jerushy I" 
 He called so loudly and suddenly that it startled all his 
 guests, and again " Jerushy !" with a roar that made the 
 battered stove-pipe jingle. " Be you deaf or be you 
 dead?" 
 
 "What on airth ?" asked the mildly astonished old 
 matron as she opened the door just wide enough to let 
 her nose and voice into the shop.
 
 58 UNCLE LISHA S SHOP. 
 
 " Gim me that ere last paper ; I wanter see f Thanks- 
 givin Day s pinted. It s eyther in the stan draw, erless 
 in the cub d, f ye hain t got some o yer everlastin yarbs 
 spread enter it in the chahmber. 
 
 " Yarbs !" Aunt Jerusha replied from the " house 
 part," where she could be heard wrestling with the refrac 
 tory stand drawer, and then rummaging among papers, 
 " why, good land o Goshen, Lisher, my yarbs was all 
 dried an in the bags fore ever that ere paper thought o 
 bein printed ! Naow, seem s ough you took it to 
 wrap up Miss Bartlett s bootees in t other da). Oh, no, 
 here t is" reappearing in the doorway " I b lieve, le 
 me see," " tromboning" the paper to get the proper focus 
 of her glasses, " October the thirty yes; here, Lisher," 
 groping her way to her lord through the tobacco smoke 
 and rubbish and legs of visitors, and then as through the 
 reek she began to recognize one and another " Oh, hope 
 I see ye well, Mr. Briggs an Mr. Hill. Miss Briggs an 
 Miss Hill, be they well ? Tumble spell o weather we re 
 a-hevin on. Why, haow du you du, Sam will ? Be you 
 well, Antwine ? an haow s your womern ? My! haow 
 you men du smoke ! I can t scasely see who s who. 
 Wai, I s pose terbarker is comfortin* sech weather for 
 them at c nstan it, but I never could," and she retreated, 
 tapping her snuff-box as she went. 
 
 "As if snuff wa n t terbarker !" Uncle Lisha snorted 
 after her. " Le s see," spreading the paper on his knees 
 and staring at it naked-eyed while he wiped his glasses on 
 his shirt sleeve ; then, adjusting them astride his nose with 
 unusual care. " Le me see Scott an Raymon offer 
 m m Partrick Foster, groceries an p visions (an 
 hoas rum) m m m B. Seym r, hats an caps an
 
 UNCLE LISHA S SHOP. 59 
 
 highest price fer fur oh, here t is Proclermatiern by 
 the Gov ner Cordin to suthin nuther usage n so f th, 
 n so f th, hm m m I du hereby pint Thursd y the 
 twenty-sev mph day o November as a day o thanksgivin . 
 Wonder what they allus hev it come a Thursd y for, and 
 Fast Day Frid y ? Dum d f I know. An lection day 
 an taown meetin 1 an the leegislatur begin settin a 
 Tuesd y. Mebby that s so s t the men c n hev clean 
 shirts on ; though the* hain t time for i nin on em more 
 likely it s cause the men folks is fresh f m the disciplyne 
 o washin day, an more cal lated to du the duty. Hm ! 
 so Thanksgivin comes tew weeks f m nex Thursd y, hey ? 
 What be I goin t du f r a turkey, I sh like t know ? 
 We hain t raised none, an I can t ford to buy one, an 
 I ve got tu ol an dim-sighted t shoot one tu a-shootin 
 match do know s the* s goin t be one, anyway." 
 
 " Yas," some one said, " Hamner s lay in aout t 
 hev a turkey shoot, Thanksgivin ." 
 
 " Ya-us," Joseph Hill contemptuously assented, " he s 
 a-cal latin tu hev what might posserbly be called a 
 turkey shoot He s got him fifteen er twenty leetle teenty 
 tawnty faowls t he calls turkeys hatched in August, do 
 know s they was fore September, nary one on em bigger 
 n a cardy bird * do know but they be bigger n cardy 
 birds, but pleggid little to speak on, an he ll set em up 
 forty rod, I do know but fifty, at a York shillin a shot ! 
 The hain t nob dy, erless it s Sam here, c ld hit one 
 shootin* a week that fur off. N one on em would n t 
 more n go raound mong tew hearty folks do know s 
 the Id be nough for tew. He hedn t ort to set em up 
 not to say more n fifteen er twenty rod, ner ast over n 
 
 * Nuthatch.
 
 do UNCLE LISHA S SHOP. 
 
 above fo p nce ha p ny a shot, at sech leetle teenty tawnty 
 insi nificant creeturs, an then he d make money aout on 
 em." 
 
 " Hamner is tew narrer-c ntracted an* peniverous tu be 
 very satisfactual tu his patrings," Solon Briggs remarked. 
 " He is a very parsinumerous man. " 
 
 "Did ye notice haow Solon s bloat went daown," 
 Joseph whispered huskily, nudging with his elbow the ribs 
 of his neighbor on the seat behind the stove, " when he 
 got them big words aouten on him ? He ll hev one on 
 em in him some day at 11 swell up an bust him fore he 
 gits red on t, see f he don t Do know s it ll bust him, 
 but it ll strain his riggin turribly yes," he said aloud, in 
 confirmation of Solon s opinion of the unpopular landlord, 
 " he s all o them. They du say as he waters his ol 
 Medford rum at costs him thirty cents a gallern, an him 
 a-sellin on t at fo pence ha p ny a glass. Anyways, it s 
 dreffle weak. A man ould git draounded in t fore he d 
 git tu feelin* good on t. I guess he would putty nigh." 
 
 " Good airth an seas 1 I don t b lieve the critter keeps 
 nothin but hoss rum. Tew drinks on t clear ould knock 
 a feller higher n Gilderoy s kite, so it s a massy to them 
 at drinks it at he does thin it \vi water," said Uncle Lisha, 
 as he generously daubed the edges of the tap with lamp 
 black and oil. " I tell ye what you du, Samwill. You 
 gwup to Hamner s turkey shoot an git me a turkey git 
 tew f ye r aminter, an come t aour Thanksgivin . The 
 11 be a turkey for me an Jerushy. an one for you one for 
 us tew an one for you tew, s the Irishmun said when he 
 was dividin the four dollars twixt himself an his tew 
 f rinds. Er she c n hev the necks o both she s allus a- 
 tellin haow the necks is the bes part of a faowl, an you
 
 UNCLE LISHA S SHOP. 6 1 
 
 V I ll take the stuffin an what s left. I ll pay for tew 
 shots an you pay for tew, an f you can t git tew turkeys 
 aout o four shots you hain t the man t I take ye t be. 
 What d yo say, Sam will ?" 
 
 " I d a good deal druthsr git ye some patridges, Uncle 
 Lisher. Dum this blazin away at a poor mis able turkey 
 sot top of a barrel with his laigs tied, scairt half to death 
 with the balls zippin raound him. Tain t no fun for me. 
 I d druther go out in the woods an git ye tew three 
 patridges." 
 
 " Well, patridges then," said the shoemaker ; " I don t 
 keer, on y patridges ain t ezackly sech reg lar Thanksgivin 
 meat as turkeys is." 
 
 " But the s more meat in one good Tom patridge an 
 the is in the hull flock o Hamner s turkeys," said Joseph 
 Hill. Then, after a little consideration of this statement, 
 " Wai, I do know s the hull on em, but half on em, say." 
 
 " Wai, then, call it patridges," said Uncle Lisha, with a 
 sigh of resignation. " We ll go it on punkin pie an 
 patridges. Will ye git em, Sam will ?" 
 
 " You sh ll hev em, Uncle Lisher," Sam said, sitting 
 upright from leaning against the wall, his promise empha 
 sized by the creak of the roll of sole leather he sat upon, 
 " f the s any in the woods." 
 
 " Oh, the woods is popular with em," said Solon. 
 
 " I scairt one aouten my woodshed yist d y mornin , er 
 mebby twas day fore yist d y mornin any ways, I scairt 
 one aout on t when I went aout arter kin lin , an I tol 
 M ri on L" 
 
 " Proberly the s so much wood in your shed, Jozeff, at 
 he thought he was in the woods," said Uncle Lisha, whit 
 tling a plug of tobacco on his cutting-board.
 
 62 UNCLE LI SKA S SHOP, 
 
 "Bah gosh!" cried Antoine, who had long suffered 
 
 with silence, " f dey don t tick in de hwood 1 an he 
 
 don t f raid more as hen was. Bah gosh ! todder day, seh, 
 
 - when Ah 11 was be choppin in de hwood dey was one of 
 
 it flewed raght in ma face, an Ah 11 bite hees head wid ma 
 
 mouf ! Ah 11 peek ma toof more as two nour fore Ah 11 
 
 got de fedder off of it. Bah gosh ! Ah 11 got all de patridge 
 
 Ah 11 wan for heat more as dis year, dat tarn, me. 
 
 " Git Antwine to set his maouth an ketch ye some," 
 Joseph suggested. 
 
 " He d pizon em with his dum peasoup lies," growled 
 Uncle Lisha, as he brushed the tobacco into his hand and 
 began grinding it between his palms. " Say, Sam will, 
 haow was you a-cal latin to spend yer Thanksgivin this 
 year ? Naow, f yer goin huntin for me, I want ye t 
 tend right tu yer huntin an nothin else." 
 
 There was a roguish twinkle in the corner of the eye 
 nearest the reclining hunter as the old man asked, " Boys, 
 I do know s I ever tol ye baout this ere gret hunter sa- 
 goin foxhuntin one Thanksgivin Day back o Pur n t n s, 
 did I?" 
 
 " Uncle Lisher," Sam drawled in a slow, impressive 
 monotone, if you raly want me tu git you some patridges 
 for Thanksgivin , you don t wanter tell no stories baout my 
 Thanksgivin s." 
 
 " You mean it, Sam will ? Lisha asked, pausing in the 
 lighting of his pipe till the match began to fry the wax on 
 his thumb. 
 
 Sartinly I du, Sara answered. 
 
 " Wai, then," said Lisha, " I want them patridges, an 
 I got t hev em," and though Antoine cried, " Tol it, 
 One Lasha, tol it ! What you cared ? Bah gosh ! Ah 11
 
 UNCLE LISHA S SHOP. 63 
 
 know where dat turkey Hamny s roos , an f Ah don t gat 
 you more turkey as you 11 heat an A n Jerrushy in four 
 day, Ah 11 give you masef for roas ! Ah 11 bet you head, 
 boy, dat Sam shoot fox an he ll ant hit heem !" and 
 though all beset him importunately, the old man utterly 
 refused to tell the story, and presently his visitors departed 
 in as bad humor as they had come. As they separated at 
 the door-yard gate to go their several ways, the inquirer 
 turned back to ask, " Say, Jozeff, haow much did M rier 
 git for that ere dawg ?"
 
 VIII. 
 
 THE TURKEY SHOOT AT HAMMER S. 
 
 THE morning of the day before Thanksgiving was bright 
 and still, promising such a day as a rifleman would wish 
 for target-shooting, and before the middle of the forenoon 
 almost every man in Danvis who owned a rifle, and some 
 who did not, but were enough in favor to borrow one of 
 owners too old to use one, or too impecunious to share in 
 a sport that called for a " York shillin " a shot, was at 
 Hamner s hostelry, or hurrying toward it across lots or 
 along the rough, frozen roads. And as many or more 
 than these were those who went with hands in pockets, 
 otherwise empty, to look on enviously, and rugged-faced 
 old mountaineers whose dim eyes could no longer sight a 
 rifle, and whose palsied hands had shaken off all their cun 
 ning, to criticise the younger shooters and tell marvellous 
 tales of what they could do and had done in bygone years ; 
 and also penniless and stingy topers who scented occasional 
 free drinks among the possibilities of the meeting. One 
 of them, standing in the middle of the road, slowly spelled 
 out the words on the sign which the proprietor had lately 
 hung out under the eaves of the smait and flimsy ne\v 
 piazza, " H, a, m, Ham, n, e, r, s, ner s, h, o, t, hot, 
 e, 1, le, hottle ! Humph ! I wonder if the rum-m-m 
 [his lips clung fondly to this comprehensive name for ail 
 alcoholic intoxicants] in a hottle is any better n what ic
 
 UNCLE LfSffA S SHOP. 65 
 
 uster be in a tarvem ? I d a darn sight druther see the 
 ol sign stuck up on the post aout there, Tarvern 
 ent tainmint for man an beast. 
 
 " Wai, it sartingly did look more horsepitiful," said 
 Solon Briggs, turning his critical glance from the new sign 
 to the old post still standing, though uncrowned, by the 
 roadside. " But this is a age of reprovement, Niram, an 
 ol things is dis-pearin an new things is a-pearin ." 
 
 " Say, Niram," cried the most smartly dressed young 
 fellow in the crowd on the piazza, " du you ever drink 
 anything naow-er-days ?" 
 
 " Wai, I du," thirsty Adoniram promptly responded, 
 " when I can t git snow t eat ! " and casting out his quid 
 he bent his steps in the direction of the prospective treat, 
 following close at the heels of the young man as he led the 
 way into the bar-room. When Adoniram had poured his 
 gill of raw spirits down his throat, his entertainer called his 
 attention to a showily-trimmed rifle standing within the 
 safe precincts of the bar. " There, Niram, is what you 
 may call a linger gun. Reach it aout here, Hamner. 
 That s the weepon at s agoin t pop the turkeys to-day ! 
 Haint it a steeple-picker?" brushing its German silver 
 ornaments with his coat-sleeve and sighting one of the 
 tack heads which held a horse advertisement to the wall. 
 Thirty-five dollars in money I paid Varney for makin 
 on it, an he warr nts it t fetch em every time ! The 
 haint nob dy livin , you know, at c n beat Varney 
 Burl nt n, you know a makin a rifle. Naow, look a 
 here," seating himself on the bunk, which was the prin 
 cipal article of furniture in the room, and motioning 
 Adoniram to a place beside him, and lowering his voice to 
 a privately confidential mumble, " when they git a turkey
 
 66 UNCLE LISHA S SHOP. 
 
 sot up, an I m a goin tu hev a shot, I want you, Niram, 
 tu kinder gwup half way er so, an kinder drop yer hat off, 
 sorter accident 1, so s t I c n see haow much wind the 
 is a stirrin aout there. F you 11 be clever nough t du 
 that much for me, Niram, you sha n t suffer none f m 
 bein dry t day !" 
 
 " I will du it, Mister Putman !" said Adoniram, em 
 phasizing his promise with a stroke of his fist upon his 
 knee, not at I keer a darn for hevin a drink er tew gi n 
 me, but aouten clear frien ship ! Me an yer father was 
 allus frien s, went t school tugether, n got lickin s, n 
 fit, n eat one other s nutcakes, n everything, an I m a 
 goin t du his son a good turn whence ever I git a chance, 
 I be I Yes, sir ! Ahem ! Seems s ough that ere 
 spoo fl o rum was a feelin kinder lunsome in my 
 in ards, Mister Putman." 
 
 " Ex-cuse me, Niram, I was jest a-goin to ask ye f 
 you wa n t a gettin dry. Set aout yer best, Hamner ; 
 taint none tu good for my frien s." 
 
 <( Hamner s rum an the river is putty clust neighbors," 
 Adoniram remarked, remembering to smack his lips only 
 when the last drop of his generous potation had passed 
 them. This ere don t seem to take a holt much. 
 
 "That s the clear quill, Niram," said the publican, 
 pouring a spoonful into a glass and smelling and tasting it 
 The clear quill, fourth proof, cost me le me see 
 
 " Clear quill !" Adoniram broke in on his calculations, 
 " duck quills an geese quills, I guess like s not. They 
 was a tellin , bestowing impartial winks on the son of his 
 friend and the proprietor of the hotel, haow someb dy 
 nuther faound a minny alive an kickin in his sperits here 
 t other day !"
 
 UNCLE LISHA S SHOP. 67 
 
 " Hello, Jeems ! Hello, Nirum ! well-named, wa n t 
 ye? Allus nigh rum when it s araound !" cried a big, 
 bluff new-comer with a heavy rifle lying as lightly as a reed 
 in the hollow of his arm. " Come, Hamner, set up them 
 ere poultry an le s hev a crack at em !" 
 
 " Wai, it is about time we was at it," young Putnam 
 assented, hauling out a gold-plated watch and consulting 
 it ostentatiously, " seven minutes t ten !" 
 
 " Sartinly, sartinly, Mr. Dart ; I was only a-waitin for 
 the folks tu rest em an stiddy the narves an re-fresh 
 emselves up. You re a lee-tie faster n what I be, Mr. 
 Putnam," said Hamner, looking at the bar-room clock. 
 
 " I sot my watch by Austin s t V gennes last week, an 
 he reg-lates the sun, Putnam asserted. 
 
 " Pshaw ! Hamner," said Dart, after looking at the tall 
 clock and listening attentively a moment, " yer pleggid ol 
 m chine s stopped runnin ! You d orter hev a crank 
 stuck int yer ol minute-mill an take a day an grind 
 aout time anough t last ye a week ! But I see yer idee. 
 You wanter git us so s t we can t see a hole through a 
 ladder fore you let us shoot ! Wai, le me speriment wi 
 yer pison. I ll resk one drink. Come, Jeems an Nirum, 
 le s die together. Here s a hopesin at we ll pass away 
 kinder comf table. There, Hamner, s a nimep nce, an 
 that ill pay for aour drinks, bein t we re all light 
 drinkers, specially Nirum. Naow, Hamner, you take it 
 an don t ye grumble. You c n buy a pint o proof 
 sperits wi nimep nce, n that ll make a gallern o sech 
 nourishment s this. Say, boys, hev another an I ll give 
 him a quarter. Little haint much, an twicte haint often 1 
 No? Wai, then, le s go n kill one of Hamner s chick 
 adees fore we die."
 
 68 UNCLE LISffA S SHOP. 
 
 The outbuildings of the tavern straggled along the bank 
 of the intervale, on the broadest part of which was room 
 enough too much, some thought for the range. Be 
 yond the stable was the stand, which was simply a plank 
 with one end resting on a horse, the other on the ground, 
 and out toward the furthest curve of the little river stood a 
 dry-goods box on which the turkeys were to be placed. 
 " Thunder in the winter !" Dart ejaculated, as he looked 
 over the range with a half-shut, calculating eye, " you 
 call that forty rod, Hamner ? M asured it with an injin- 
 rubber string, didn t ye, n pulled like a yoke o stags? 
 I sh like t buy the interv l cordin to that m asure. But 
 set one up 1" 
 
 The long, lank, sharp-faced publican directed an assist 
 ant to bring out a turkey, and after a fluttering commotion 
 in the stable he reappeared with a half-grown one under 
 his arm, and took his way across the flat toward the dry- 
 goods box. " Oh, what a turkey !" Dart shouted. 
 " Haint ye got no aigs ter set up? Wai, Hamner, you 
 be tough tougher n a biled aowl ! But nev mind, I m 
 a goin ter shoot that s what I come here for. But a 
 feller might jes s well shoot at the moon t ain t much 
 furder off, an it s bigger." 
 
 " Wai, yes, some bigger, John," said Joseph Hill, tak 
 ing off his hat and scratching his head meditatively, " least 
 ways when it s full, which it don t seem as ough that 
 turkey was. " 
 
 "Oh, you shet up, Joe Hill!" Hamner snarled. 
 " Turkeys is what s called for, an that ere s a turkey, 
 haint it?" and he glowered a sidelong glance at the giant 
 Dart, who, good-natured as he was, looked too big to 
 quarrel with.
 
 UNCLE LISHA S SHOP. 69 
 
 " Sartinly. Mr, Hamner," said the amicable Joseph, 
 " that s the name on t, I haint no daoubt. A turkey s 
 a turkey soon s he s hatched." 
 
 " Say, Bill !" Dart shouted after the bearer of the turkey, 
 "got any lunchern in yer pocket? You ll git hungry 
 fore you git there. An say, Bill, holler when ye git yer 
 gobbler sot up, so s t we ll know. He s most aout o 
 sight naow !" 
 
 At last the poor bird was placed in position, Bill re 
 treated to a safe distance and the cover of the river-bank, 
 and Dart, lying down on the plank, rested his rifle across 
 the end of it. After much sighting and squinting he 
 cocked his piece and, taking careful aim, fired. 
 
 " Sol\ for a nimep nce !" he proclaimed, as the turkey 
 was seen to flutter and fall prone upon the box. 
 
 "Don t b lieve ye teched him! He s only scairt !" 
 Hamner snarled, unwilling to believe that his turkey had 
 gone for so little money. But all doubt on that score was 
 removed when Bill took it down and began his journey 
 toward them, a dozen of the party running out to meet 
 him. 
 
 1 T won t take more n half on ye tu bring in that 
 turkey," Dart called after them. "Naow, Hamner, you 
 be ketchin another tu set up. I want a mess while I m 
 baout it an got my hand in. " 
 
 " Not by a gol darned sight you don t hev another shot ! 
 You s pose I m a goin tu hev the bread took aouter my 
 maouth that way? One turkey s nough for anybody 
 but a darned hawg !" 
 
 " You re jest right, Hamner. One turkey s as much 
 as anybody d ort tu eat tu oncte, an" all I want is one 
 apiece for the fam ly. The s five on us, none on us very
 
 70 UNCLE LI S HAS SHOP. 
 
 hearty t eat only gran maw n the baby, an five turkeys 
 is all t I want. But the haint nothin small baout me 
 only my feet," holding out a No. 12 "stogy" for inspec 
 tion, " which you may not think they be, but a feller s 
 boot haint his foot. Mine s small, but a big boot fits 
 em best. I don t push for the nex shot. Here s Mr. 
 Putraan, which he s got him a rifle at cost him thir-ty-five 
 dollars in money, an Varney made it, which that means 
 all you ve got t du is tu show it a turkey an it fetches 
 him ! An Mr. Putman wants a few. N here s Peltier 
 Gove, he s got the Widder Wiggins s rifle, which it was 
 Pete s, an he give Hatch the price of a ye rlin colt for it, 
 an the s some at says haow Hatch c n make jes as 
 good a gun as Varney any day, an Peltier wants tu find 
 aout An here is Jozeff Hill ; he s a luggin raound 
 one o Seaver s ol fewzees which they say he hes hit a 
 barn with it, bein at he was on the inside on t an all 
 the doors shet. An the s lots more on em at hes tu 
 heng on t the guns tu keep em f m goin off arter tur 
 keys. I m willin for half on em tu hev a chance while 
 I rest my gun a spell, for it s tumble strainin on a gun t 
 shoot so fur. Wai, here s Bill mos tuckered aout a luggin 
 of that turkey aout there n back thaout restin much n 
 nothin t eat all the time. Le me see where I hit him. 
 Right in the butt o the wing ! That s where I allus hit 
 em when I don t miss on t. Haint he an ol sollaker ! 
 Sary Ann 11 hefter put the stuffin on the aoutside the 
 haint room nough on the inside." 
 
 Presently Bill went out with another turkey across the 
 flat, the light snowy covering of which began to show a 
 dun path in the direction of the target. Following him 
 went Niram with unsteady footsteps till he got half way
 
 UNCLE LISHA S SHOP. 71 
 
 across the range, where he halted and threw up his hat 
 with a lusty, if obsolete, cheer for " Tippycanew an Tyler 
 tew !" As the hat dropped beside him, hardly slanting to 
 the light breeze in its fall, in the exuberance of his spirits 
 he kicked at it, and missed it, and too topheavy to balance 
 himself, found himself suddenly seated by it. Regarding it 
 fora little with tipsy solemnity, as if wondering " how came 
 we here ? he picked it up, knocked the snow off it, set 
 it upon his head, slowly got himself upon his feet, and 
 meandered back to the stand. The turkey was in position, 
 and the foppishly-dressed young man of the name of Put 
 nam got himself upon the plank with a great flourish of 
 preparation. 
 
 Naow, Jeems, Dart advised as he was sighting his 
 rifle, " you d better le me onbutton the strops o yer 
 trousers, erless you ll pull the tricker off m that thirty-five- 
 dollar gun o yourn erbust yer strops !" But Putnam fired 
 without taking this precaution, and the trigger and straps 
 came safely out of the ordeal, and so did the turkey. 
 
 ;< You d orter pulled harder, strops er no strops, an 
 kinder pushed tew, mebby ; a bullit needs helpin sech 
 long shots. I gi n mine a boost, baout ninety weight, 
 nigh s I c ld cal late." 
 
 " This ere John Dart a-pears tu be a very jokus indi- 
 viddywil," said Solon Briggs to Joseph Hill ; "we hed ort 
 tu give him a invite tu jine aour sore-eyes up tu Lisher s ; 
 he would make em more convivualler. " Joseph hardly 
 understood him, but recommended an alum curd poultice 
 as the best remedy for sore eyes, " thaout t was lobele 
 steeped intu sperits. " 
 
 " These ere half-len th rifles hain t wuth a soo markee 
 fer long shots !" Gran ther Hill whistled savagely, though
 
 72 UNCLE LISHA S SHOP. 
 
 toothlessly, casting a scornful glance at the thirty-five- 
 dollar rifle and its owner. " I wish t I hed me my gun 
 here, at I hed tu Hubbar t n an Bennin t n, I d show ye ! 
 An I would ha hed it f I d hed me a flint at hed any 
 more fire in t n a hunk o col johnny-cake. Couldn t find 
 nothin in the haouse but a Injin arrer. Ye can t git a 
 decent flint naow-er-days sen these pesky cap-locks come 
 in fashi n. Flints is the thing tu tech off paowder, I tell 
 ye ! They burns it slow, an yer ball don t git started fer 
 t go ontwell the paowder s all afire, an then, sir, it goes 
 tu kill ! Fo foot in the berril that ere gun is, an when 
 it s pinted at a thing, you knows it, an so does what it s 
 pinted at !" 
 
 " It ort tu, f tain t tew fur off," Dart said too loudly. 
 
 " Fo foot in the berril !" the veteran repeated, taking no 
 notice of the interruption but to frown on the speaker, 
 " an it hain t a inch tew long ! Ethin Allin hes shot it, 
 an so hes Seth Warner, an so hes Remember Baker, an 
 so hes John Stark ! An the don t nobody at s here 
 a-shootin popguns tu-day at wants ter up an tell me at 
 they wa n t shooters an men at knowed what guns was ! 
 John Stark says he tu Bennin t n, says he, Them red cuts 
 is aourn, boys, er Molly Stark s a widder ! Come on, 
 Josier ! An tu Hubbar t n, Seth Warner says he tu me, 
 says he, Josier, I want ye tu pick off that ere British 
 offycer wi that long gun o yourn. An sir, a minute 
 arterward that offycer was scase ! I was in the fust bwut 
 at went aouten Hand s Cove on the tenth o May, in the 
 mornin airly, seventeen hund ed an seventy-five, an Ethin 
 Allin was a-standin in the bow, an he wa n t a mite afeared, 
 cause I was a settin right behind of him. Bennydick 
 Arnil was along, tew, the damned trailer, an I wish t I
 
 UNCLE LISffA S SHOP. 73 
 
 bed a-done what I wanted tu, chucked the cussed hook 
 nosed hen- hawk int the lake, blast him ! Wai, sir, when 
 we landed an was drawed up inter line, an stood a-waitin 
 an a-waitin for the rest on em tu come over, Seth an 
 mongst em, an it begin tu grow light in the East, an a 
 rwuster begin to crow up tu the fort, Ethin he begin tu 
 git tumble oneasy, an at last says he, If we wait for the 
 rest on em any longer, daylight 11 spile aour plan. Every 
 man at s willin tu go for ad naow, pise his firelock ! 
 An , sir, every man jack on us did it, quicker n ever hell 
 scorched a feather ! Then says Ethin, says he, Is Josier 
 Hill here ? I be, says I. All right, says he, for ad, 
 march ! Fore we got tu the gate, the was some squab- 
 blin twixt Ethin an Arnil baout which was a-goin in 
 fust, an Ethin come putty nigh a-jabbin Arnil with his 
 sword ; but they finally fixed it up an went in long side 
 o one nuther, though I b lieve I was a leetle mite ahead 
 on em, a chasin the sent nil at snapped at Ethin." 
 
 " Golly blue ! Father 11 be a-takin Canady f he gits 
 another underjawful o Hamner s fightin rum !" said the 
 veteran s son in mild alarm, and such an exploit seemed 
 not unlikely to be undertaken by the ancient warrior, for 
 he now began to sing in a voice half croak and half whistle, 
 to a small but appreciative audience : 
 
 " We re a-marchin on tow-wards Quebec, 
 
 Whilst the drums is loudli bea tin, 
 For Americay hes gained the day 
 An the British is retrea tin ! " 
 
 " Bah gosh ! Ah 11 goin help it !" cried Antoine, who 
 had been prancing from group to group in search of listen 
 ers to what he had to tell concerning shooting. " Dat
 
 74 UNCLE LISHA S SHOP. 
 
 mek me rembler one tam dey have it shoot-turkey in Can- 
 ady. an dey 11 ant let you see dem turkey, bah gosh, no ! 
 Dey 11 have it hind a hill of it, an you 11 gat for guess 
 where he ll was an den shoot. Yes, sah ! Well, boy, 
 Ah 11 was be dere, an Ah Use dawn an listen for hear, an 
 bombye pooty soon Ah 11 hear dat turkey beegin for gob 
 bler. Houkle, houkle, houkle ! Den Ah 11 pant up ma 
 gun up so Ah 11 tink de ball was drop off where he ll hit 
 dat nowse, an Ah 11 shot off, pluck ! Squowk ! Ah 11 
 hear dat turkey said, an bah gosh ! You ll antb lieved 
 me, dat ball stroke it raght bit-tween hees backs !" 
 
 "Oh, beeswax!" said Dart; "they never hed no 
 turkey shoot in Canady ! They uster shoot peas at a kittle, 
 an the one at got the most peas into t ould hev the pot 
 o pea soup made aouten on em !" 
 
 " Bah gosh, you ll ant know ! You ll never was be 
 dere. You ll gat so far from Danvis you ll can smell 
 spruce gum, you 11 ant never fan your way back ! Hein ! 
 boy ? Antoine retorted. 
 
 Putnam made several ineffectual shots, with each his 
 pride in his gun and his faith in its maker falling and fail 
 ing. Then Pelatiah tried his luck with the work of the 
 rival maker, but its famed killing qualities seemed to have 
 departed with its deceased late owner, much to the sorrow 
 of poor Pelatiah, whose slender weasel skin held but one 
 half dollar, the proceeds of his fall trapping in the Beaver 
 Meadow Brook, and two more shots would exhaust his 
 scant hoard. 
 
 Meanwhile Sam Lovel was out in the woods, where he 
 had been long before the shooting began, in pursuit of 
 Uncle Lisha s promised partridges. The frozen leaves, 
 showing a crinkle of brown and here and there a streak or
 
 UNCLE LISHA S SHOP. 75 
 
 patch of yet unfaded October red and yellow through 
 the light powdering of snow, were noisy under the lightest 
 tread. The squirrels scampering over them in quest of 
 their Thanksgiving fare, could be heard thirty rods away, 
 and a dozen partridges went whirring and crashing away 
 unseen through the haze of gray branches and dark clouds 
 of evergreen boughs before Sam drew a bead on the head 
 of an old cock who strutted an instant too long on his last 
 spring s drumming log, and then verified the truth that 
 pride goeth before a fall as he tossed up a flurry of leaves 
 and snow in his death-struggle. So our hunter went on 
 through this range of wooded hill, exhausting its present 
 possibilities of game when he had killed another partridge, 
 but all the while enjoying his solitary tramp. He heard 
 the intermittent popping of the rifles at Hamner s, and in 
 soliloquy mildly anathematized the shooters as " a pack o 
 dum d fools." In a different spirit Joel Bartlett, hearing 
 the frequent reports as he foddered his cattle in the barn 
 yard, sighed loudly and sorrowfully, and said in the sing 
 song tone that would now certainly be heard next day in 
 the Fifth Day meeting, " A snare of the evil one, an 
 a-nother pitfall digged for the feet of the onwary ! These 
 men a-shootin at innocent faowls of the air, is a-follerin 
 of a custom, an a practyse, an a observance o them at 
 hung Mary Dyer, an grieviously pussecuted many 
 formerly. 
 
 When Sam had come to the top of the hiH the shortest 
 way to the next likely hunting-ground lay past Hamner s, 
 and a natural curiosity drew him to the shooting-ground. 
 
 Fortune had frowned on all the contestants but the ami 
 able giant, Dart, who by his weight and good-nature and 
 the possibly better gift of luck, seemed always to make
 
 76 UNCLE LISHA S SHOP. 
 
 his way, and having now got three turkeys Hamner was 
 disposed to debar him from another chance. " I do 
 know haow on airth I m a-goin tu divide three turkeys 
 mongst five on us," he said, " but I never was wuth a 
 snap at figgers. Mebby Sary Ann 11 make hash on em." 
 Luck, certainly not skill, had taken one of Joseph Hill s 
 bullets into deadly contact with a turkey, and he, following 
 Dart s hint, was telling his friends that M ri would make a 
 dumpling, the bird to be the core of the savory compound 
 which would have been the stuffing of a larger turkey, 
 " erless she took a notion tu fry it long wi a slice o pork, 
 same as she would a patridge. " 
 
 Poor Pelatiah was in doleful dumps, having fired three 
 shots without getting a turkey, and now debating with 
 himself whether he should hazard the remainder of his 
 treasure on another. "I hit a nine-inch ring three times 
 aout o five, forty rod as I paced it up behind the barn t 
 hum, yist d y, wi that gun," he confided to Sam, " Wid- 
 der Wiggins s rifle, the best one the is in Danvis, so 
 ev b dy says, an tu-day, Sam well, I can t hit a ten-acre 
 lot!" 
 
 " It s fifty rod f m here tu that box if it s a rod," said 
 Sam to Pelatiah, and partly to himself. " Thedum d ol 
 cheatin cuss ! Look a here, Peltier, if you wanter try 
 agin I ll pay for yer shot if it s a miss. Don t ye be in 
 no hurry. You might," measuring the distance to the hill 
 across the road with his eye, " you might forgit tu put any 
 cap on, an snap tew three times, an then hoi high ! 
 Aim at the top o Tater Hill f you r a minter tain t 
 nob dy s business if your shot s paid for. But don t ye 
 graound your ball this side o the turkey !" 
 
 "Goin , Mr. Lovel ?" Hamner asked, as Sam. shoul-
 
 UNCLE LISHA S SHOP. 77 
 
 dered his ponderous gun, known far and near as the Ol 
 Ore Bed ;" "I was a-hopesin you d jine us." 
 
 " No," Sam replied ; " I can t hit a turkey forty rod off. 
 I m goin upon your hill tu try f I c n git another 
 patridge. They pear tu be tumble scase t day. " 
 
 " Tell ye what, Lovel, " said Dart, " 1 b lieve Hamner s 
 chick-a-biddied em all intu his barn wi a ha bushil o 
 buckwheat, an sot em up for turkeys ! These things we 
 ben a-shootin at is patridges, an the scruff eends o litters 
 at that !" 
 
 " Re-freshmints up tu the hoe-tel, Mr. Lovel," Hamner 
 said, taking no notice of these derogatory remarks. 
 " Meant tu a-hed some austers, but I guess they hain t, 
 hed time to bring em raound sence it froze up." 
 
 " Was you thinkin of importin an auster up here, 
 Hamner?" inquired the irrepressible Dart. They don t 
 bite, they say, in no month at hain t got an R in t, an 
 the hain t ben quite three sech, so the hain t ben time tu 
 move one up for ye, but I d druther resk the chance o 
 gittin one o 1 Hamner s turkeys at his forty rod, n tu tiy 
 gittin an auster aouten a plate o his soup." 
 
 Naow, Mis-ter Dart, Hamner asked, more in sorrow 
 than in anger, " du you, can you expeck tu git a pailf l o 
 solid meats aouten a plate o austers at ninepunce a plate ? 
 
 Sam left the oyster question unsettled and made speedy 
 way to the hill which overlooked the whole range. 
 
 Pelatiah bestowed his ungainly length upon the plank 
 once more, and three times pulled the trigger with no re 
 sponsive explosion of cap and charge. " G o s h !" 
 he exclaimed, with well-simulated surprise ; "I never 
 thought tu put no cap on. This oversight having been 
 duly remedied, at the next pull the Widder Wiggins s rifle
 
 78 UNCLE LISHA S SHOP. 
 
 responded with its wonted spiteful crack, which was more 
 loudly repeated from the hill behind, and the turkey, with 
 a few feeble flaps of its wings, sank upon the box. 
 
 "Sam Hill! What an e-cho !" Joseph ejaculated, 
 taking in vain the name of a possible ancestor, and then 
 looking toward the rough steep beyond the road he saw a 
 thin film of smoke wafted upward through the evergreens. 
 After one breathless moment of open-eyed and wide- 
 mouthed wonder, he doubled himself up in a paroxysm of 
 smothered laughter. 
 
 When the turkey was examined some one remarked that 
 the " Widder Wiggins s rifle made a onaccaountable big 
 hole," but Pelatiah bore home his prize in triumph and 
 with unquestioned right.
 
 IX. 
 
 SAM LOVEL S THANKSGIVING. 
 
 As hunting was dearer to Sam Lovel than feasting, it 
 very naturally happened that on the morning of the 
 Thanksgiving Day to which Uncle Lisha had alluded, he 
 was out on the hills with Drive rather than at home endur 
 ing the fuss and bustle of the " women folkses " prepara 
 tion of the great dinner. Such endurance he thought 
 would be poorly paid for by all the good things that the 
 feast would furnish forth, to be gorged at noon in a silent 
 and business-like manner, as if to eat a little more than 
 one s comfortable fill was the best, if not the only observ 
 ance of the time-honored holiday that was required. 
 
 Sam was out betimes. As he took his way across the 
 narrow fields to the woods, the dun grass land, the black 
 squares and oblongs of fall ploughing, the gray of the decid 
 uous trees, and the " black growth" of the woodlands were 
 blurred together in the first light of the early morning, 
 nothing distinct but lines and patches of the first snow, 
 left by the ensuing warm days, and the serrated crest of 
 the mountain now sharply cut against the Eastern sky. 
 The hound, quartering the way toward sunrise, came into 
 sight and vanished, now to the right, now to the left, first 
 white spots and then a dimly-defined dog, then white spots 
 and no dog, nor any indication of his nearness but his 
 loud snuffing and the crisp crush of the frosty herbage 
 under his feet Presently he gave tongue on a cold scent,
 
 80 UNCLE LISHA S SHOP. 
 
 and puzzling out with his miraculous gift of smell the 
 devious course of the fox over knolls and through swales 
 of matted mouse-haunted wild grass, and by and by, when 
 daylight had set well-defined bounds to field and forest, 
 led his slowly-following master to the ridge of the first 
 hill. Then the sun began to burn its way up the sky 
 with so intense a flame that it seemed to be consuming the 
 stubby trunks and low-spread branches of the stunted 
 evergreens bristling in blurred silhouette on the mountain 
 crest. Sam followed the trend of the long ledge that 
 formed the top of the hill, a sheer steep abutting toward 
 the West, a long rough slope slanting to a dark gorge on 
 the East. Out of this came from time to time the tuneful 
 baying of the hound as he worked southward on the scent, 
 so cold that only in those places that held it best it greeted 
 his nostrils with an aroma strong enough to bring forth his 
 bugle-like challenge. The intervals of silence became 
 longer between the bugle notes, sounding now fainter and 
 farther away, till at last unheard at all, though the mur 
 mur of a mountain brook changing with wafts of the light 
 breeze, the monotonous song of the evergreens swelling 
 and falling with its varying touch, and a hundred nameless 
 mysterious voices of the woods fooled the hunter s ear now 
 and then. But he had an abiding faith that at last Drive 
 would get up the fox and bring him back along this ridge, 
 and so he listened and waited, sitting on a moss-cushioned 
 log while all the chickadees of the neighborhood came 
 and visited him with inquisitive friendliness, and the jays, 
 at more respectful distance, squalled a protest against his 
 intrusion on their haunts. A solitary crow, belated in his 
 migration, discovered the silent and motionless figure, and 
 made as much pother as if it had been a featherless owl
 
 UNCLE LISHA S SHOP. 8 1 
 
 or a furless fox ; but when his clamor failed to bring any 
 response from the brethren now far beyond the sound of 
 his voice, he flapped away in silent disgust. A red squir 
 rel scampering over the matted leaves in quest of buried 
 treasure sat up at the toe of Sam s boot, and after a short 
 inspection of this queer black stump ventured on to it, 
 and then as far as Sam s knee, whence a wink of the hun 
 ter s gray eye frightened him in a sudden panic, from 
 which he recovered sufficiently when he had gained the 
 vantage of a tree trunk to rattle out a volley of abuse. 
 When these visitors had all departed and Sam had listened 
 long in vain, he moved on to a bald peak of the hill from 
 which a portion of the valley could be seen, with its cleared 
 fields and wooded cobbles, and farm houses and out 
 buildings strung along the frozen black road like nests on 
 a slender leafless branch. Some were as deserted to-day 
 as the vireo s nest that hung in a fork of the witch-hazel 
 beside him, the inmates away for one day s thanksgiving 
 as the birds were for months of it. But from the chimney 
 of one red- painted homestead, which Sam s wandering 
 glances always came back to, a banner of smoke flaunted, 
 denoting occupancy. 
 
 " Someb dy stayin t hum t Pur n t ns," he solilo 
 quized. " Guess most on em s gone some eres tu 
 Thanksgivin , f the hain t nob dystirrin round aou door. 
 Guess they hain t keepin on t there, for f they was ol 
 Granther Pur n t n s shay ould be a-loomin up long side 
 o the barn like a tew storey haouse afire. Wonder f the 
 hain t nob dy t hum, n the dum d haouse is afire" as 
 the chimney belched forth a greater volume of smoke. 
 " Do know but what I d better go an see. That ere fox 
 isanol N Hampsh r traveller, an he ll tow Drive clean t
 
 82 UNCLE LISHA S SHOP. 
 
 the C net cut River fore he gives it up an comes back, 
 an I ll be dum d f I m a-goin to set raound here a-wait- 
 in for him till t morrer night. I b lieve that dum d ol 
 haouse is afire !" And listening one moment more for 
 the voice of the hound, almost afraid that he might hear 
 it, he started down the sheer hillside, checking now and 
 then his headlong course with clutches on bushes, sap 
 lings, and tree- trunks, till he reached the level of the alder- 
 bordered brook that wound along the base of the hill. 
 The red winter berries glowed there in vain to catch his 
 eye, and he crushed unseen beneath his feet the scarlet 
 cones of the wild turnip drooping on their withered stalks 
 as he breasted the tangled sprawl of the alders. When 
 beyond them he came in sight of the house again, he 
 caught a glimpse of a trim figure as the kitchen door 
 opened for an instant, the flash of a dish-pan and the glitter 
 of its discharged contents, and a few notes of a clear voice 
 singing, " The Girl I Left Behind Me." The figure and 
 the voice made his heart beat quicker, but he slackened 
 his pace as he taxed his wits for an excuse for his call. 
 When he crossed the chips in front of the woodshed, he 
 had decided that his first idea was the best to act upon, 
 and that if he did not quite believe it now, he really had 
 believed that the house was on fire. He knocked at the 
 kitchen door and waited long enough for flames to have 
 made great headway, while he listened to the voice singing 
 with all the freedom from embarrassment of one who sings 
 without a listener, and for the singer s sole pleasure 
 
 " If ever I chance to go that way, 
 And she has not resigned me, 
 I ll reconcile my mind and stay 
 With the girl I left behind me."
 
 UNCLE LISHA S SHOP. 83 
 
 He did not knock again till the words ended and the 
 singer began to hum the tune in a lower voice. Then 
 the singing and the accompanying clatter of dishes and 
 swash of " wrench water" suddenly stopped, and Sam 
 knew that in the ensuing hush Huldah was wiping her 
 hands on the towel behind the buttery door, that the few 
 quick footsteps took her to the looking-glass in the door 
 of the clock, whose ticking he could now hear, and now 
 she was coming. When she opened the door such a 
 bright pleased surprise shone on her pretty face that he 
 could compare it to nothing but the brightness of that 
 morning s sunrise. 
 
 " Why, good land sakes alive ! Sam well Lovel, where 
 on airth did you come from ? 
 
 " Wai," said Sam, his cheeks as red as hers, " I was 
 a-huntin up on Pig s Back, an I seen the smoke a-tum- 
 blin aouten your chimbly at sech a rate t I was afeared 
 the haouse was afire. I thought most likely at you d all 
 gone off t* Thanksgivin , an suthin nuther hed ketched, 
 an so I come ri daown. I m sorry t I troubled ye, but 
 I m dreffle glad t the hain t nothin afire. Guess I ll be 
 a-goin naow. " 
 
 11 Why, what s yer hurry, Mr. Lovel ? Come in an 
 seddaown an rest ye a spell. Aour folks is all gone, 
 father n mother n Sis, uptoGran ther s, an lef nob dyt 
 hum but me n the cat I didn t keer no gret baout 
 goin , an so I staid t hum to keep haouse. Come in an 
 seddaown a minute, won t ye ? while I gwup stairs an look 
 o that sto pipe it hes ben kinder aouter kilter. Come 
 in an take a cheer. The kitchin looks like all git aout 
 [it was as neat as a new bandbox], " but I wa n t spectin 
 nob dy, an the* hain t no fire in the square room. I d
 
 84 UNCLE LISHA S SHOP 
 
 take yer gun, but I dassent set it in the corner, er heng it 
 up on the hooks over the mantel-tree there. Father s gun s 
 gone t V gennes, a-bein altered over tu a a cap-lock, is 
 t you call em? He thinks they re better n flint-locks. 
 Du you think they be, Sa Mr. Lovel, I mean ?" 
 
 " Wai, they be handier an sartiner to go off, but I do 
 know but what a flint-lock gun is baout as good to heng 
 up, as yer father s does mostly," Sam answered, looking 
 up contemplatively at the hooks where his own gun now 
 hung. 
 
 " Make yerself t hum, Sam well why, haow I du keep 
 a-callin on ye by yer fust name ! excuse me, Mr. Lovel 
 while I gwup an see baout that ere sto pipe. " 
 
 The stovepipe must have been found in satisfactory con 
 dition, for Huldah presently reappeared in a smart new 
 calico gown, and with her hair neatly brushed and fastened 
 with a high tortoise-shell comb. 
 
 "Is it usuil, Mr. Lovel," she asked, after she had set 
 away her dishes, and drawing a chair to the stove, sat down 
 and folded her hands in seemly fashion over her check 
 apron, " for folks to knock at the door when they think 
 a haouse is afire ?" 
 
 " I wa n ta-knockin !" Sam said, dropping his abashed 
 eyes from her roguish glance, " I was a-beginnin kinder 
 mawdret, ye know, to bust open the door. I didn t wanter 
 skeer nob dy, s posin* the* was anyb dy t hum, which I 
 hedn t no idee the was." 
 
 Huldah could not help laughing at this absurd explana 
 tion, nor could Sam help joining her, and when they had 
 had their laugh out they found themselves much more at 
 ease and became very sociable. When Huldah again cor 
 rected herself for addressing him by his first name, he re-
 
 UNCLE USHA S SHOP. 85 
 
 minded her of their old school days when she had never 
 thought of calling him anything but Sam. " We was 
 putty good frien s them times, Huldy, but I m afeard you 
 hain t a-feelin so frien ly tow-wards me naow, a-Misterin 
 on me so. I do know who folks is a-talkin tu when 
 they says Mister Lovel ; seem s s ough they was mistakin 
 on me for father or gran ther. " 
 
 " Wai, then, Sam, f t suits ye any better !" cried 
 Huldah ; and he declared that it did suit him better, " a 
 dum d sight" 
 
 " I hedn tmadeno cal lations on gittin a reg lar dinner 
 tu-day, bein at the wa n t nob dy here but me," Huldah 
 apologized, looking up at the clock as it warned for 
 eleven. " I m dreffle sorry t I didn t naow, but I m 
 a-goin t git ye some nutcakes an pie an cheese, an you ll 
 hafter stay yer stomerk wi them. You mus be hungrier 
 n a bear, eatin of your breakfas fore daylight, I s pose, 
 an a traipsin raound in the woods all the fo noon," and 
 she bustled away to prepare the lunch, in spite of Sam s 
 protesting that he " wa n t the least mite hungry, an ould 
 druther set an talk n t eat." 
 
 " It does beat all natur ," she said, with an emphatic 
 and rather petulant toss of her head, as she returned from 
 the pantry with a pie and a plate of doughnuts, " at any 
 body can enj y traipsin raound, up-hill an daown, all day 
 long, arter a leetle insi nificant fox ! An* shoolin* an 
 stumblin raound the lots all night arter coons ! Ketch me, 
 f I was a man. But you men folks du beat all creation !" 
 
 " Shouldn t wonder f we did, putty nigh, xceptin the 
 womern part on t. That beats us all holler. But I d a 
 good deal druther ketch ye jest as ye be. I hain t hed a 
 chance tu speak tu ye lone fore in a dawg s age !"
 
 86 UNCLE LISHA S SHOP. 
 
 "I do know f nothin at the s ben t bender, f y 
 wanted tu," Huldah said, pouting her red lips, " erless 
 . you d forgot where we lived. You hain t ben a-nigh f r I d r 
 know haow long, an ye wouldn t t day f you hedn t a- 
 thought the haouse was afire n nob dy t hum," and the 
 pout changed to a smile. 
 
 " If I c ld raly b lieve at the time seemed long sence I d 
 ben here t anyb dy but me, I sh ld be tumble glad on t, 
 an the wouldn t be no need o settin the haouse afire t 
 fetch me. But ye see, Huldy, yer father he don t set no 
 gret by folks at goes a-huntin , no more n his darter 
 does, n so I hain t felt ezackly free baout comin ." 
 
 " Why, Samwill ! I wa n t sayin at I hed anythin 
 agin folkses huntin ; I was on y wonderin what makes 
 em lufter." 
 
 " Wai, it s kinder natur , I s pose, borned inter some 
 on us, same s t is inter haoun dawgs, an we can t help 
 a-runnin off int the woods. Suthin takes us. An 
 when t ain t none tew pleasant for a feller t hum, like 
 nough he goes off a-huntin er a-fishin oftener n he would 
 f twas pleasant Naow, f I hed a haouse o my own an 
 someb dy t keep it wal, say as this is kep ," looking 
 around the neat kitchen with a look of admiration that 
 grew as it returned and lingered on the bright face of the 
 young housekeeper, "an wa n t allus a-scoldin an find- 
 in fault, I p sume to say I wouldn t go a-huntin more n 
 onct a week in the season on t, thaout twas when on- 
 common good days come oncommon often." 
 
 " The hain t no daoubt," Huldah said, rising in some 
 confusion, and taking the tea-kettle from the back of the 
 stove, going out to fill it, talking back through the open 
 door as she went to the pump,, " but what you c ld hire
 
 UNCLE LfSHA S SHOP. 87 
 
 someb dy nuther to keep haouse for ye" then the squeak 
 ing and gurgling crescendo of the pump s voice drowned 
 hers. "I m a-goin t make ye a cup o tea," returning 
 with the kettle and setting it on the stove, and giving the 
 fire an enlivening punch. 
 
 " I wa n t a-meanin no Aired help, " Sam said " no, 
 don t make me no tea I d druther you wouldn t take no 
 sech trouble no, not no hired help, but some b dy at ould 
 at thought they could stan it tu tu go snucks along 
 wi me a-ownin of a haouse, an keepin on it for me an 
 her. 
 
 " Why, Samwell Lovell ! Haow you du go on ! Did 
 anybody ever !" cried Huldah, glowing with blushes. 
 Then she held her breath to hear what, she was sure, her 
 lover now must ask. But Sam was frightened into dumb- 
 cess by his own unwonted boldness ; and at last when the 
 silence was becoming painfully awkward, she not knowing 
 what else to say, broke it with the unfortunate remark that 
 "* The was some other nat ral borned hunter up on the 
 bill, she guessed, for she hearn a haoun dawg a-yollupin 
 up there." Sam hurried out to listen, and she followed 
 him. 
 
 " Wai, by the gret horn spoon !" he exclaimed, as the 
 familiar long-drawn notes of his own hound struck his ear, 
 " I ll be dum d if that hain t Drive, as sure as shootin ! 
 He s brung that ere fox back f m the Lord knows where ! 
 Yes, sir," as the musical cry swelled louder from the near 
 est ridge, " he s jest a-shovin on him, n he s a-goin t 
 cross by the Butt nuts, n I b lieve I c n head him I" 
 
 Sam was in the kitchen and out again with his gun in 
 an instant and speeding across the fields toward the well- 
 known runway, where three great butternut-trees crowned
 
 88 UNCLE LISHA S SHOP, 
 
 a knoll with a widespread of thick, ungraceful ramage. 
 Sweetheart and doughnuts were forsaken, love almost for 
 gotten and hunger quite, in the ardor of the chase, though 
 it must be said in palliation of Sam s abrupt departure that 
 he longed to give Huldah an exhibition of his skill as a 
 hunter, to shoot the fox before her eyes and presently bring 
 her the furry trophy of his prowess. But alas for his 
 hopes ! Before he was within the longest possible gunshot 
 of the knoll he saw the fox crossing it, halting for a moment 
 to look back at the bellowing hound, and then disappearing 
 with undulating lopes on his way to the western range. 
 He would probably play when he reached those lines of 
 ledges, Sam thought, and after a little hesitation and more 
 than one wistful glance back to the red house, he went for 
 ward. He was ashamed to return now, so unsuccessful. 
 
 " My 1" Huldah said to herself, as with her plump hand 
 shading her eyes she watched the receding form of her 
 lover, " I hope to goodness he ll git him !" Then when 
 the fox appeared and disappeared far out of Sam s reach, 
 she exhaled her long-held breath in a great sigh, not 
 wholly of disappointment. " Wai, I don t care, he ll come 
 back naow. " But when he went on with a swinging stride 
 that speedily took him out of her sight, her eyes filled with 
 tears of vexation. " The tarnal great fool ! I hope t 
 he won t never come a-nigh me agin s long s I live an 
 breathe, an I hope t that won t be long I do ! What a 
 plegged fool I was t up an tell o hearin a haoun ! I 
 wish t the wa n t a haoun dawg ner a fox in this w:de- 
 livin world for men t go shoolin an runnin an traipsin 
 arter when they might be a-duin suthin wuth while. He 
 cares more for a mis able sneakin fox n he does for me, 
 or anything on airth, to run off arter one an leave me jest
 
 UNCLE USI/A S SHOP. 89 
 
 when I wish t / was a fox, an then mebby Oh ! 
 wouldn t I keep him a-moggin a spell I won t never 
 speak to him agin so long s I live an breathe ! Let him 
 hev his ol haoun an his foxes an his hateful ol gun an his 
 everlastin huntin f he likes em better n he does me. I 
 don t care, so there, naow !" But she was choking with 
 alternating tearful fits of sorrow and anger all the after 
 noon, and when her father and mother and little sister re 
 turned from the Thanksgiving at " gran there," they won 
 dered to find her so woebegone. 
 
 " I hedn t no idee," said her father to her mother after 
 furtively watching her as he sat warming his hands at the 
 stove, " at Huldy keered a row o pins baout goin t 
 father s. 
 
 When miles away on one of the farthest ridges of the 
 western hills, Sam at sundown shot his fox, and gave the 
 dying brute a spiteful if merciful finishing kick in the 
 head, he said, " Blast yer pictur , I wish t you hed ha 
 gone clean t N Hampsh r , n I never d see er heard on 
 ye, dum ye You ve cost me more n any fox ever cost 
 a man afore sen the was foxes an men an women folks 
 in this world !" He bore an aching heart for many a 
 weary day before he forgave himself or was forgiven by 
 Huldah. 
 
 One day in the winter Huldah came to Aunt Jerusha 
 on an errand. " I wanter borry your wool caards, Aunt 
 Jerushy, to caard some rolls for father some socks. Aourn 
 is lent, we do know where." In the conversation that ac 
 companied the borrowing and lending of the cards, Aunt 
 Jerusha asked when Huldah had seen Sam will Lovel, to 
 which Huldah replied with a show of spitefulness that her 
 wistful eyes belied, that she had not seen him since about
 
 90 UNCLE LISffA S SHOP. 
 
 Thanksgiving Day, an didn t wanter, as she knowed 
 on !" Whereat Aunt Jerusha was surprised and grieved, 
 for it was her cherished hope that these two, her favorites 
 among all the young folks of Danvis, would some day 
 make a match. After some coaxing Huldah told her old 
 friend her grievance, and so Uncle Lisha came to know in 
 part the story of Sam s Thanksgiving.
 
 LITTLE SIS. 
 
 " GOOD Lord o massy ! if I hain t jest abaout clean 
 tuckered aout !" Mrs. Purington gasped, exhaling a long- 
 drawn sigh as she dropped her portly person into a 
 creaking splint-bottom chair in her own kitchen, then 
 flopped her sun-bonnet into her short lap, and stroked the 
 hair back with both hands from her heated brow. 
 "Whew! f t ain t hot, jest a-roastin , bilin hot! 
 Huldy, reach me a dipper o water, won t ye? I m e en 
 a most choked. I sot that ere pitcher o emptin s on the 
 winder stool ; you ta keer on em, won t ye?" Huldah 
 brought her mother a quart dipper full of cool water from 
 the pump, that with its dolorous squeaks and hollow 
 groans always reminded her now of last year s Thanks 
 giving Day. 
 
 " Lord o massy 1 I b lieve I be roasted," Mrs. Pur 
 ington exclaimed, regarding her scarlet reflection in the 
 bright interior of the tin dipper, after she had taken a long 
 draught. " Wai," she said, after resting the dipper on 
 her knee, and wiping her face with a corner of her apron, 
 " I ve ben all raound Robin Hood s barn tu borry them 
 emptin s. Fust I went tu Joel s, though I might ha 
 knowed better n tu, for Jemimy she allers uses milk 
 risin ; mis able flat- tasted bread it makes tew. Ketch me 
 a-makin bread \vi milk risin ! Then arter I d sot an
 
 92 UNCLE LISHA S SHOP. 
 
 talked wi Jemimy a spell Joel, he s got a consarn 
 a-workin on his mind, an he s a-goin off on a preachin 
 taower jes s soon s they get through hayin . Shouldn t 
 wonder a mite f he did afore if the weather happens tu 
 come on ketchin ; n like s not t will, for dog days 
 hain t over yit, an nob dy never knows what the weather 
 s a-goin t be in dog-days. The idear o goin shoolin 
 off wi one o his consarns, leavin her an them 
 child n an the farm tu tend tu ! Ketch me a-marryin 
 a Quaker, at s allus lierble tu be took with a consarn / 
 Arter I sot an talked wi Jemimy a spell I went on tu 
 Briggses ; but Miss Briggs she hain t got nothin but 
 yeast-cakes, an I hain t uster usin them. So arter I d 
 sot an rested me a spell she s got a new quilt on the 
 frames pretty time o year tu be a-quiltin sunflower 
 patch-work it is, an 11 look c nsid able scrumptious 
 when t s done. I went on tu Hillses, an Miss Hill 
 she d jest sot a mess tu workin , n so shehedn tgot 
 none. Jozeff he s a-hayin on t, arter his fashion ! Then 
 I went along over tu Uncle Lisher s, an there I made 
 aout tu git me some emptin s. Uncle Lisher he s jes 
 fairly got tu hayin on t, hain t ben begun more n tew 
 three days. Tom Hamlin he s a-helpin on him payin 
 up his shoemakin , like s not. They ve just hed a letter 
 f m George aout tu the Hio. Says crops is lookin 
 well in the Hio, an he s vduin well, an wants em 
 both to come aout there an live long wi him. I don t 
 scasely b lieve they ever will, but I do know. They re 
 a-gettin long in years, an it s a tumble ways off. Why, 
 that letter was wrote the last o June or fo part o July, an 
 here it is the middle of August ! Wai," taking another 
 draught from the dipper, and making slow preparations
 
 UNCLE LfSNA S SHOP. 93 
 
 to rise, " we ve got us some emptin s tu start with, an 
 naow we ve got tu set tu work an make some. Hope yer 
 father won t tip over the pot agin, pokin raound in the 
 suller. You ve skum the milk, I s pose, an got the pans 
 washed an scalded ?" 
 
 "Yes," Huldah answered from the sink, where she 
 stood washing and peeling potatoes. 
 
 "You be dreffle mumpin this summer," said her 
 mother, after waiting a little for her to speak further. 
 " It s jest yis an no with ye, an ye never laugh ner sing 
 a mite s ye uster. I b lieve I d orter steep up some 
 boneset an hev ye take some; /b lieve yer stomerk s 
 aouten order. " 
 
 "Why, mother, I m jest as tough as a bear," Huldah 
 declared, blushing and making a brave effort to laugh ; 
 she could not help smiling at the thought of boneset as a 
 remedy for her ill heartsease would be more to the pur 
 pose, it seemed to her. 
 
 "It is a tumble job tu fix them ol pertalers fit for 
 cookin ," said Mrs. Purington, now apparently just notic 
 ing her daughter s occupation. " Seem s ough we d ort 
 tu hev some new ones by this time. Wonder f yer father 
 s dug int any hills tu see ? Where s Sis ?" she asked, 
 after looking thoughtfully at Huldah and the potatoes as 
 she went to hang the dipper and sun-bonnet on their re 
 spective nails. " I hain t seen nor hearn nothin on her 
 sen I come in. 1 It was indeed noticeable that the six- 
 year old pet of the household had not even in so short a 
 time in a wakeful forenoon in some way made her where 
 abouts known, and her mother wondered now with a ma 
 ternal qualm of conscience that she had not sooner 
 remarked the absence of the child s voice, talking to her-
 
 94 UNCLE LISffA S SHOP. 
 
 self, or asking endless unanswerable questions, or singing 
 her rag doll to imaginary sleep. She suddenly realized 
 how still it was, that there was no sound in the kitchen 
 bat the buzzing of the flies, the ticking of the clock, and 
 the fluttering splash and chip, chip of the potato washing 
 and paring, and that from outdoors came no sound but 
 the lazy crating of the hens, the dolorous mixture of 
 peep and cluck wherewith the half-grown chickens ex 
 pressed their contentment, the dry clap of a locust s wings, 
 followed by his long, shrill cry when he had lighted in the 
 chip-littered yard, and from farther off the faint ringing 
 of the mowers whetted scythes. 
 
 Why, said Huldah, coming with a start out of a 
 maze of troubled thoughts, she was a-tewin raound an 
 a-pesterin me half tu death baoutthis an that she want 
 ed t du, an at last I gi n her her little baskit at at she 
 thinks so much on, an tol her she might gwup in the 
 stump lot a-blackbaryin a spell. I tol her she mustn t 
 gwaout o sight o the haouse." 
 
 "Wai," Mrs. Purington said, looking out toward the 
 hills, " I guess you hedn t orter let her. I d know s 
 she d orter gwup there lone. She d better ben a-watchin 
 the ol hen turkey an her young uns. If they git up tu 
 the aidge of the woods the foxes 11 ketch every identical 
 one on em. Oh dear me suz ! Seems s ough the 
 pleggid foxes hed ort tu git some scaser, wi Sam Lovel 
 an mongst em a-huntin" an a-haounin on em half the 
 year ; but they don t. Seems s ough that young un ort 
 tu be some eres in sight er a-comin hum by this time. 
 Haow long s she ben gone ?" 
 
 "She s ben gone," Huldah answered, looking at the 
 clock " why, it s most an hour an a half I Mother, f
 
 UNCLE LISHA S SHOP. 95 
 
 you ll put the pertaters in the kittle, I ll go an git her. 
 F I don t git back soon nough, the pork s all cut an 
 in the fryin -pan ready for fresh-nin ." So putting on 
 her sun-bonnet she went out, her mother following to the 
 door to say, " Jes s like s not she s over in the medder 
 long wi yer father n the rest on em." With this hope 
 Huldah went out toward the meadow till she could see 
 her father and the two hired men swinging their scythes 
 with even strokes, but there was no little sister there, and 
 she went on quickly, crossing the brook where its summer- 
 shrunken current wimpled among the stones in the shade 
 of a thicket of young firs. She saw a print of a small shoe 
 in the soft gravel, half filled with water, and pointing toward 
 the berry lot. Surely, she thought, she must soon find her 
 now, and listened a moment with the expectation of hear 
 ing the child prattling to herself or rustling among the 
 bushes. But she heard nothing but the hum of insects, 
 the chirp of crickets, and an occasional bird note, and 
 calling, got no answer. But she must see her presently, 
 for it was impossible to keep out of sight in the field that 
 the axe had swept all tree growth from only two years 
 ago. But when she entered it, after beating along its lower 
 edge for a while, she was surprised to see how tall the 
 sprouts and bushes had grown since she had last been 
 there. It now seemed hopeless enough to look here for 
 one grown to full stature, much more so to find a child 
 fc hose head would be overtopped by the lowest of the 
 blackberry brambles that reared themselves with rampant 
 growth about every blackened stump and log heap. 
 
 Perhaps Polly had fallen asleep on some inviting bed of 
 moss by the brook. Nothing was likelier, and it was 
 strange she had not sooner thought of it Returning, she
 
 96 UNCLE LISHA S SHOP. 
 
 followed all the turns of the little watercourse along the 
 border of the stump lot, but saw no living thing she 
 caredto ; nothing but a scared trout flashing across the 
 shadows of a pool ; heard nothing but the warning cry of 
 a mother partridge and the startling whir of wings when 
 the old bird and her well-grown brood burst away in brief 
 flight, and then the lisping call that gathered the scattered 
 family. Why would not her little chick of a sister hear 
 and answer her call ? Huldah went back into the brush 
 and swiftly threaded the maze of cowpaths, and with 
 laborious climbing gained the tops of the tallest stumps, 
 whose height showed how deep the snow was when the 
 trees were felled, and scanned all the thickets she could 
 overlook, always hoping to see somewhere among the 
 tangle of stalks and leafage the little pink sun-bonnet 
 moving about. Once she thought she had surely caught 
 sight of it, but on approach it proved to be only the full- 
 flowered spike of a willow herb nodding to the breeze or 
 bending under the shifting weight of the bees. She called 
 loudly and often, but was answered only by the mewing 
 of a catbird that flitted near yet unseen in the thickets, 
 and by the sudden jangle of a cowbell as its startled wearer 
 crashed away through the brush. Sometimes the mysteri 
 ous murmurs of the forest would fool her ear for a mo 
 ment ; then when she listened they seemed to come from 
 everywhere and could be located nowhere. One moment 
 she was so vexed and impatient that if she had come upon 
 the little wanderer her first impulse would have been to 
 give her a scolding ; the next she was choking with a 
 swelling ache of dread that she would have given the world 
 to have cured by a sight of the yellow-polled pet and 
 tease, whom if she might but find alive and well she
 
 UNCLE LISHA S SHOP. 97 
 
 would never scold again. So she hurried on in her fruit 
 less search till she came to the upper end of the half- 
 cleared field where the lofty branches of the great trees 
 linteled the doorway of the ancient forest, whose depths 
 and darkness and mystery she feared, but would dare to 
 enter, if there was one promised chance of her finding the 
 lost child there. Yes, lost The fact with all its terrible 
 possibilities forced itself upon her, and horrible visions 
 floated in a swiftly returning procession before her misty 
 eyes of the little form lying dead at the foot of a precipice, 
 or drowned in a brook pool, or torn by wild beasts, or at 
 best stumbling blindly onward in a craze of fright perhaps 
 to a worse death by starvation and terror. It would be 
 only a waste of precious time for her to go into the woods. 
 There was nothing for her to do but to hasten home and 
 rouse the neighborhood for the search. She mounted a 
 great boulder for one more unrewarded look, and to make 
 another unanswered call. She could see her home bask 
 ing in the August sun with such a restful air as if it was 
 never to shelter the sorrow that was soon to enter it ; and 
 a wood thrush filled the cloisters of the woods with his 
 sweet chime of silver bells as if there were naught but peace 
 and happiness in their quiet depths. Huldah was no 
 saint, and she felt an angry resentment of this mockery of 
 her trouble. She could have wrung the thrush s neck to 
 end the song so ill-attuned to her feelings, and it would 
 have been a slight relief to see some token of disturbance 
 about the house, though it would not have quieted her 
 self-reproach. If this wrathful feeling had not been over 
 powered by the stronger emotion of grief before she reached 
 home, it might have been somewhat appeased by the per 
 vading air of anxiety that brooded over the household.
 
 98 UNCLE LISHA S SHOP. 
 
 Her father, watching for her as he smoked his after-dinner 
 pipe, came out to meet her, questioning her with a 
 troubled face. She only halted to say in a choked voice, 
 " O father, she s lost ! Hurry, an raout aout every 
 body !" and answered the inquiring look of the hired 
 men who stopped their meditative whittling and arose from 
 the doorstep at her approach with, " Polly s lost ! Go 
 an tell email tu come an find her!" Her mother, 
 meeting her at the door, heard this, and retreating to the 
 nearest chair, sat down, spreading a helpless hand on 
 either knee. " Oh dear me suz ! Huldy, I don t see 
 haow on airth you ever, ever come tu let her go !" 
 
 "O mother, don t! Is the any tea left? I m 
 a-chokin , an tuckered. She poured out a cupful from 
 the teapot, swallowed it at a draught, and went quickly 
 out. "I m a-goin tu Joel s an Solon s an Hillses an 
 that way s fur s I can tu tell em," she said to her 
 father, who was hurriedly consulting with the men. 
 " You an John an Lije go t other ways. I searched 
 and hollered all over the stump lot, an never seen nothin 
 on her but her track where she crossed the brook, a-goin , 
 and she hastened down the road. 
 
 " Thee don t say so !" Jemima Bartlett said, her 
 placid face full of pity when Huldah briefly told her 
 errand. "The poor little precious! I ll call the men 
 folks right off up aouten the medder. They 11 come tu 
 rights when they hear the horn. Thee d better come in 
 an sed daown an rest thee a spell, thee does look so beat 
 aout, poor child." 
 
 But Huldah sped on while the blasts of the conch - 
 shell were echoing from the hills, and when she looked 
 back as she turned into Solon Briggs s yard, she saw
 
 UNCLK LISffA S SHOP. 99 
 
 Joel and his hired man trudging along the road toward her 
 home. 
 
 Solon happened to be mending his " hay-riggin , " and, 
 dropping his tools on the door-yard chips, he hastened 
 away as soon as he heard her message, stopping only to 
 ask if it would be " more essifactious for him tu go an 
 help her raise a human- cry ?" 
 
 Joseph Hill came to the door in his stockings trying to 
 rub and gape away the left-over sleepiness of an after-din 
 ner nap. When he had slowly pulled on his boots he 
 was ready to go ; he hardly knew which way till he had 
 " told M ri," who came with the youngest baby in her 
 arms, and two a-foot tugging at her skirts and peeping 
 from behind them, while she offered her condolences. The 
 whistling growl of Gran ther Hill came from where he sat 
 in his arm-chair at the back door, asking many questions : 
 "What is t yer a-talkin baout, M rier? Somebody 
 lost? Who is it? Purin t ns young un ? Don t Pur- 
 in t ns folks know no better ntu let a babygwoff int the 
 woods? Why didn t they chuck her int the cist n? 
 Then they d ha knowed where she was ! Wai, I s pose 
 we all got tu turn aout an sarch arter her, and he came 
 stamping through the house with his hat on and his cane 
 in his hand. " You needn t talk to me, M rier !" he 
 said, glowering fiercely at his daughter-in-law when she 
 mildly protested against his going, " I hain t ol , nuther, I 
 tell ye. Eighty-five year hain t nothin tu a man at s ben 
 where I ben, when the s babies lost in the woods ! I ve 
 tracked Injins, an I guess I c n track a foolish little 
 young un !" and he marched off with his son with as 
 much alacrity as he had responded to Ethan Allen s call 
 in the long past May of his youth^
 
 too UNCLE LISHA S SHOP. 
 
 Presently Huldah was at Uncle Lisha s telling her sym 
 pathizing old friend, Aunt Jerusha, of the loss of the 
 child, and she added, as she had not before, " It s all my 
 fault- -I let her go a-baryin !" The old man was in the 
 shop mending a piece of harness, and the door between 
 the shop and the house being open, as it usually was when 
 he had no visitors, his ears caught the girl s voice and 
 something of her story. 
 
 " Good airth an seas ! Huldy, what s that you re 
 a-sayin ? Sissy lost? Haow ? Where?" he shouted 
 as he suddenly appeared in the doorway with the tug in 
 his hand. Then she told him all she could, repeating 
 that it was all her fault, for she found a little comfort in 
 making this confession now. 
 
 " Wai," pitching the tug back into the shop, and un 
 tying his apron and sloughing it off on the threshold, 
 * I ll go an du what I can. I c n waddle raound in 
 the woods arter a fashion, an I c n holler c nsid able, an 
 I tell ye hollerin caounts sech times. Fust I ll go an 
 holler fer Tawmus. Say, Huldy, I ll tell ye," he said, 
 turning toward her while one upstretched hand groped 
 along the pegs for his hat, " the s one man in Danvis at 
 I drutherhev a-sarchin for Sissy an all the hull caboodle 
 on us, ol an young, big an little. He knows the woods 
 julluk a book, an c n read every sign in em an that 
 ere man is Sam will Lovel ! You re spryer n I be, n 
 some spryer n Jerushy, I guess. You cut over to his 
 haouse an start him 1" 
 
 " O Uncle Lisher, 1 can 1 1" Huldah gasped, her hot, 
 tired face paling an instant, then burning redder with 
 blushes, " I can t ! Someb dy else 11 tell him. You 
 go an tell him 1"
 
 UNCLE LISffA S SHOP. 101 
 
 " I tell ye, Huldy, you mus go ! The hain t no time 
 for me tu turkleover there, an you comin this way they ll 
 depend on your tellin on him ! Good airth an seas ! 
 gal, this hain t no time for stinkin pride f you be aout 
 with him. He d sarch tu the eend o the airth if you ast 
 him he warships the graound you tread ! Go right stret, 
 an clipper, tew !" and having got his hat on he took her 
 by the shoulders and gently pushed her outdoors, and as 
 far as the gate, facing her the desired way. She went on, 
 accelerating her pace till she was running when she came 
 to the door of the Lovel homestead, caring for nothing 
 now so much as the finding of her lost sister. 
 
 Mrs. Lovel, Sam s stepmother, a gaunt, hard featured 
 woman, came to the open door, beating the threshold 
 with a broom to frighten away some intruding chickens. 
 " Shoo ! you pesterin torments ! I wish t the aigs o 
 yer breed was destr yed ! Why, massy sakes alive ! 
 Huldy Pur n t n ! What be you in sech a pucker baout ?" 
 she cried in astonishment when Huldah s swift approach 
 diverted her attention from the objects of her displeasure. 
 " Why, you look s ough you d ben dragged through a 
 brush heap, an scairt aouten your seben senses !" 
 
 " Oh, Miss Lovell, Polly s lost in the woods. 
 Where s Sam well ? I want him tu help find her. Where 
 is he?" 
 
 " Polly lost !" Mrs. Lovell repeated, regarding Huldah 
 with a reproachful severity in her countenance that the 
 poor girl felt she deserved. " Up back o your haouse ? 
 Wai, I shouldn t wonder a mite f you never faound her 
 a-livin . Like s anyways she ll tumble off m the rocks 
 an break her neck, f the don t suthin nuther ketch her 
 afore. Some on em was a-tellin o hearin a wolf a-haowl-
 
 102 UNCLE LISHA S SHOP. 
 
 in an a-haowlin t other night, an some thinks the 
 s a painter a-hantin raound. The s allus bears, an they 
 du say at the hain t nothin at bears likes better t eat 
 n child n. There s them young ones at sassed Lijer, 
 wan t it? Ye know the was three bears, on y jest three, 
 come aouten the woods an eat forty on em !" 
 
 Huldah, rejecting such consolation with raised hands 
 and averted face, asked again for Sam. 
 
 " Sam ! Humph ! Sure nough, where is he? You 
 tell. Him an his father finished up hayin yist d y, an 
 of course he hed tu put off a bee-huntin the fust thing 
 arter breakfus this mornin ; nob dy knows which way. 
 He d a tarnal sight better ben a-fencin the stacks so t 
 the kyows c ld be turned int the medder. An Lovel, 
 he s a-putterin raound daown in the back lot baout 
 suthin t hain t no vally, I ll warrant. O my eyes an 
 Betty Martin ! If these men hain t nough tu drive any 
 womern distracted ! Haow ol w as Polly ?" as if the 
 bright little life was assuredly ended. 
 
 " Six, the twenty-fourth o June," Huldah answered, 
 and turning away went wearily homeward, half the hope 
 dying out of her heart, now that there was no hope of find 
 ing Sam. 
 
 When Joel Bartlett arrived he went in and shook hands 
 with Mrs. Purington as solemnly as he performed the 
 same ceremony when he " broke the meetin " on First 
 and Fifth Days. " I wanter tell thee, Mary Pur n t n, 
 tu keep quiet in thy mind," he said. " Aour Heavenly 
 Father, withaout whose knowledge not a sparrer falls tu the 
 graound, will ta keer of a precious little child ; an I feel 
 it bore in upon me at thy little darter will be restored tu 
 thee. Sech poor insterments as we be o His n, we will du
 
 UNCLE LI SKA S SHOP. 103 
 
 aour best indivors. An naow, Mary, keep quiet in thy 
 mind, an seek for stren th in Him tu help thee tu bear 
 this grievious trial o waitin on His will." 
 
 The rescue party had been quickly mustered, and the 
 plan of search agreed upon. It heartened Huldah when 
 she reached home to know that twenty-five or thirty stal 
 wart men were already ranging the woods in quest of her 
 lost sister, all so inspired with neighborly kindness that 
 they would spare themselves no pain or hardship in the 
 search. 
 
 But oh, if the keenest and bravest woodsman among all 
 these hills were only on the same quest ! Why of all the 
 days in the year must he have chosen this most anxious 
 one of a lifetime wherein to go bee-hunting ? Huldah 
 mentally relegated the bees to that limbo whither she had 
 long before in like manner banished the foxes.
 
 XI. 
 
 SAM LOVEL S BEE-HUNTING. 
 
 AWAY up on the mountain-side, where some hopeful 
 pioneer had hewn out of the wilderness a few acres with 
 slight and remote possibilities of a future pasture, Sam 
 Lovel was wallowing at noon among the golden rods, wil 
 low-herbs, and asters that filled this wild garden with yel 
 low and pink and blue and white bloom, yet more varied 
 with the heightening and deepening of their colors by sun 
 light and shadow, and contrast. The bees were making 
 the most of such bountiful pasturage ; the clearing droned 
 with their incessant hum, and the drowsy murmur of their 
 toil seemed to have lulled the forest to sleep, so still were 
 all its depths. Sam had no trouble to imprison one of the 
 busy horde in his bee-box, but more to line his liberated 
 captive and the mates returning with her, for the little 
 square of sunlit sky was flecked with hundreds of hurrying 
 brown specks. But his sharp eyes were not easily foiled 
 when he set them fairly to their work, and he had not lain 
 long on his back among the ferns before he caught the 
 airy trail of the bees that carried their burdens of sweets 
 from his box, set on the nearest tall stump. He did not 
 follow far into the woods before he found the great tree 
 where they were hoarding their wealth. " Tu easy faound 
 for fun," he said, as he lighted his pipe and began to cut 
 his initials on the trunk of the old maple, but bee-huntin
 
 UNCLE LISHA S SHOP. 105 
 
 s better n no huntin , an more fun n fencin stacks at 
 c n jes s well wait a spell while the rowen grows, er 
 a-hearin everlastin tewin an scoldin . An it helps 
 tol able well ter keep a feller s mind off m onprofitable 
 thinkin . Wai, there you be, Mister L.," slowly push 
 ing his knife shut against his thigh as he critically regarded 
 his carving, " an you re the best letter I got in my 
 name, for the s an 1 in Huldy. I sh d like tu put tew 
 more on ye in her n. Ho hum ! Wai, come, you dum d 
 ol long-laigged fool of a S. L., le s go an find another 
 bee tree." And he took himself back to the clearing. 
 He captured a bee on the first " yaller top" he came to, 
 and soon established another line, but it took much longer 
 to trace it to the bee s home, and when he had set his 
 mark on this, it was time to be going to his own home- 
 He took his unerring course through the pathless woods, 
 stopping now and then to rest on a log or knoll that seemed 
 to be set with its cushion of moss on purpose for him. 
 During one of these halts, when half way through the 
 woods, he heard a cry, so strange that he paused to listen 
 for a repetition of it while his lighted match went out be 
 fore it reached his pipe, or the pipe his mouth. Once 
 more the distressful wail struck his ear, whether far away 
 or only faint and near he could not tell. " Wai," letting 
 out his held breath and striking another match, " f I ve 
 got another painter on my hands, I wish t I hed the ol 
 Ore Bed long. But like nough tain t nothin but a 
 bluejay at s struck a new noise I thought they hed em 
 all a ready, though." And he went on, pausing a little 
 at times to listen to and locate the voice, which presently 
 ceased. F I hed a gun I d go an see what kind of a 
 critter s a-makin on t," he said, and then half forgot it
 
 106 UNCLE LISHA S SHOP. 
 
 He had come to where he got glimpses of the broad day 
 light through the palisades of the forest s western border, 
 and where long glints of the westering sun gilded patches 
 of ferns and wood plants and last year s sear leaves, when 
 his quick wood-sight, glancing everywhere and noting 
 everything, fell upon a little bright-colored Indian basket 
 overset in a tuft of ferns, with a few blackberries in it and 
 others spilled beside it. Why, he said, picking it up 
 and examining it, "that s the baskit I gin little Polly 
 Pur n t n last year ! It hain t ben dropped long, for the 
 oaries is fresh, n there s a leaf t ain t wilted scacely. 
 She dropped it, for there s some puckerbaries, an the 
 wouldn t nob dy but a young un pick them. Haow com 
 that little critter way up here?" Then he heard men s 
 voices calling and answering in the woods far away at his 
 left. " God A mighty, she s lost !" he exclaimed, as 
 he quickly formulated the sounds he heard and the signs 
 he saw. " That was her at I hearn ! What a dum d 
 fool I be !" He dropped his bee-box, marking the spot 
 with a glance, and sped back into the heart of the forest so 
 swiftly that the inquisitive chickadees which had gathered 
 about him knew not what way he had gone. He spent no 
 time in looking for traces of the child s passage here, but 
 made his way as rapidly as impossible to the place which 
 the cry had seemed to come from, listening intently as he 
 glided silently along, for he knew that if she had not sunk 
 down exhausted with wandering and fright, she would be 
 circling away after the manner of lost persons, from where 
 he had heard her. Moving more slowly now and scan 
 ning every foot of forest floor about him, he at last saw a 
 broken-down stalk of ginseng, its red berries crushed by 
 a footstep, and noting which way it was swept and how
 
 UNCLE LISHA S SHOP. 107 
 
 recently, found on a bush beyond it a thread of calico, 
 then a small shoe-print in the mould, and farther on a little 
 garter hanging to a broken branch of a fallen tree. Ac 
 cording to established usage in such cases, he should have 
 put this in his breast, for he knew that Huldah had knit 
 it, but he only placed it in his pocket, saying, " If she 
 hain t never faound it ll be a sorter comfort tu em tu see 
 this but I m a-goin tu find her I got tu !" He was 
 assured of her course now, and thought she could not be 
 far off, but he did not call, for he knew with what unrea 
 soning terror even men are sometimes crazed when lost in 
 the woods, when familiar sounds as well as familiar scenes 
 are strange and terrible. While for a moment he stood 
 listening he heard the distant halloos of the searching 
 party then rushing away from them, a sudden swish of 
 leaves and crash of undergrowth, and then caught a 
 glimpse of a wild little form scurrying and tumbling 
 through the green and gray haze of netted shrubs and 
 saplings. He had never stalked a November partridge so 
 stealthily as he went forward now. Not a twig snapped 
 under his foot, nor branch sprung backward with a swish 
 louder than the beat of an owl s wing, and there was no 
 sign in glance or motion that he saw as he passed it, the 
 terror-stricken little face that stared out from a sprangly 
 thicket of mountain yew. Assured that she was within 
 reach, he turned slowly and said softly, " Why, Sis ! is 
 this you ? Don t ye know me, Sam Lovel ? Here s 
 yer little baskit at you dropped daown yunder, but I m 
 afeared the baries is all spilt !" and then he had her sob 
 bing and moaning in his strong arms. 
 
 This is the best day s huntin ever I done," he said, 
 his voice shaking with the great thankfulness of his heart
 
 io8 UNCLE LISHA S SHOP. 
 
 He called again and again to let the searchers know that 
 the lost child was lound, but if they heard they did not 
 heed or understand his calls. 
 
 When he came to Stony Brook with his burden asleep 
 on his shoulders, he seated her on the bank and bathed 
 her hot face and gave her grateful draughts from a dipper 
 that he made in five minutes with a sheet of birch bark 
 folded and fastened in a cleft stick, and here he shouted 
 lustily again, but got no answer. 
 
 " Come, Sis," after listening, stooping and reaching 
 out his arms, " we must be a-moggin !" 
 
 " I be awful heavy, Sam well, but I can t step a step," 
 she said apologetically, as he took her up. " Oh, how 
 good you be !" 
 
 Sam s long shadow had ceased following him, and was 
 blurred out in the twilight when he crossed the door-yard 
 chips that his feet had not trodden since that Thanksgiving 
 Day. Polly was asleep again in his arms when he entered 
 the open door of the kitchen which bore a funereal air, 
 with a dozen neighboring women sitting against its walls 
 speaking to each other in hushed solemn voices, one 
 standing beside Mrs. Purington, ready with a hartshorn- 
 bottle when she should take her apron from her face. The 
 poor woman was reaching out blindly with one hand for 
 the comforting salts when Sam, unseen by any till now, 
 set Polly in her lap, and then casting a longing look along 
 the line of gaping, speechless women, he disappeared be 
 fore the feminine chorus of " Ohs !" and " Mys !" and 
 little shrieks had swelled to its height. 
 
 Huldah was out in the back yard trying to comfort her 
 self with listening to the faint halloos of the searchers, and 
 with watching the occasional glimmer of their lanterns and
 
 UNCLE LISffA S SHOP. 109 
 
 torches, dim stars of hope to her now, when she heard the 
 indoor stir, and hurried in expecting to find her mother in 
 a fainting fit. But there was her little sister with her 
 mother crying over her and scolding her in the same 
 breath, and all the other women letting out their pent-up 
 speech in a hail storm of words, wherewith fell a shower of 
 tears. When she had hugged Polly and kissed her, and 
 sprinkled her with the first tears she had shed that day, 
 she asked, " Who fetched her?" and out of the confusion 
 got this answer : " Sam Lovel, an the great good-for- 
 nothin cleared right aout an never said one word !" 
 
 He could not have gone far. " Sam well ! Samwell 
 Lovel !" she called softly, running out toward the road. 
 
 " Was you a-callin me, Huldy ?" a low voice answered 
 out of the dusk. 
 
 " Won t ye come an blow the horn tu call em hum. 
 Samwell ? The can t none on em in there blow nothin 
 O Sam/" 
 
 The tall form of her lover came out of the gloom, and 
 the big sister was in the strong arms that had just brought 
 home the little sister. 
 
 The search of the rescue party was prolonged a little be 
 fore Sam s blasts on the conch-shell were tossed far and 
 wide from echoing mountain to echoing hill to call them 
 home. 
 
 " Sam," said Huldah, half an hour later, " you hain t 
 never tol me whether no you got that ere fox ? 
 
 " I hain t never hed no chance !" he answered.
 
 XII. 
 
 IN THE SHOP AGAIN. 
 
 Ax the next gathering in Lisha s shop, Antoine was 
 present, and when the old cobbler became aware of him, 
 he gave him a hearty welcome, for though he was always 
 cracking rough jokes upon the Frenchman, he had a real 
 liking for him for his good nature and the kindness he 
 had shown at the time of the memorable bear-fight 
 
 Hello, Ann Twine ! Buzzhoo musheer ! Cum- 
 massy vau ! How dy do ? Glad t see ye agin. Oh, 
 you ve missed it t ye hain t ben here t aour meetin s I 
 Sech stories as the boys has tole, an Solon Briggs has tole 
 us lots o things t we didn t know nor he nuther." 
 
 " Wai naow, One Lasha," asked Antoine in a low 
 voice, as he edged onto the corner of the shoe-bench, 
 " w at kan o langwizh dat was, M sieu Brigg he spik it, 
 hein ? F dat was Anglish Ah can t nevah lam em. He 
 broke ma jaw off. Guess he Sous Merican, don t it ?" 
 
 " Nev mind, Ann Twine, you c n onderstand it jes 
 s well s any on us n jes s well s he ken, I guess. It 
 don t hurt us none, n it does him lots o good to let off 
 them ere booktionary words. Wai, Ann Twine, it s your 
 turn naow. You got to tell a story er sing a song. Le s 
 hev Pappy no, come. Pappee no sa bum pay-raow. 
 Lisha sang with a roaring voice the first line of that onca 
 popular Canadian revolutionary song. " Tune er up "
 
 UNCLE LISffA S SHOP. Ill 
 
 " Bah Gosh, One Lasha," Antoine said with a sorrow 
 ful voice and face, Ah can sing, nor tell storee, Ah feel 
 so bad !" 
 
 "What s the motter, man? Ye inyuns froze, er ter- 
 backer gin aout ?" 
 
 " No, sah, One Lasha, Ah got plenty onion, plenty 
 tabac, plenty, plenty. But Ah have sush bad dream las 
 naght ! Oh, Ah feel so sorry, me !" 
 
 " Tell it, Ann Twine, tell it," Lisha shouted, and all 
 the others joined in the request or demand. 
 
 " Ah don lak tole it, mek you all feel so bad jes 
 lak me, Ah fred. Wai, don you cry. Las naght w en 
 Ah go bed Ah 11 freegit pray. W en Ah 11 git on bed 
 Ah 11 tink ov it. Den fus ting Ah 11 say Ah 11 shet ma 
 heye, den Ah 11 beegin. As de bon Dieu mek me mo 
 better as Ah 11 was ef he can an tek care hole hwoman 
 an all the chillens, n mek it heat not quat so much 
 meat, an more patac * and zhonnerkek dat was cheap. 
 Den Ah 11 go sleep. Bambye Ah 11 dream Ah 11 go to 
 1 enfer, what you call it, hell ?" 
 
 " Guess t was baout mornin when you dremp that 
 dream, Ann Twine. Mornin dreams comes true, they 
 say," Lisha put in. 
 
 " W en Ah 11 gat dah," continued Antoine, only notic 
 ing the interruption by a shrug and a wave of the hand, 
 " de Dev he come as me what so good man Ah 11 be 
 come dah faw ? Ah 11 say Ah 11 honly come faw fun, see 
 what goin s on, me. Den he say, Se dawn, se dawn, 
 M sieu Bissette, mek it youse f to home. So Ah ll sit 
 in ver warm place an look all raoun . Bambye one 
 
 * Canuck for potatoes.
 
 112 UNCLE LISHA S SHOP. 
 
 hole man come, he don t got any clo s on it, honly jes 
 shoe mek it tool ond hees arm. Dev he say, What you 
 want it ? Hole man say, Dey a nt have it me on tud- 
 der place, so Ah 11 come heear, see f Ah 11 can git it jawb 
 mek it you some boot Dev he stick it aout bose hees 
 foots, one of it lak man s, one of it lak caow s, den he 
 say, You can mezzhy only but one of it for mek bose 
 boot ; tek it you choose. Hole man he say, Guess 
 Ah 11 tek it de bes foot, so he mezzhy de man foot an 
 go work raght off. Pooty soon raght off, bambye, he have it 
 de boot all do, an Dev he try it on, an , bah Gosh, de 
 boot fit de caow foot bes , an he won t go on tudder one 
 t all, no, sah ! Den Dev he mad, an keek dat poo 
 hole man aou door in col ; an Ah 11 feel so sorree for it 
 Ah 11 run raght back here an git it some clo s, an tus 
 one Ah 11 git hole of it was One Lasha clo s, an bah 
 Gosh ! you b lieve it me, dat clo s fit dat hole man jes if 
 dey been mek it for him, yes, sah !" 
 
 The laugh which the relation of this dream aroused was 
 made louder by Lisha s roaring " haw, haw, ho," at the 
 end of which he said, glowering at the narrator through 
 his spectacles, You dremp that wide awake in the day 
 time, Ann Twine. You ben studyin on it up ever sen 
 you was here ? 
 
 " No, sah, One Lasha, Ah 11 dream dat in a mawnin ; 
 an he come true, you say ? Wha you s pose dat hole 
 man go ? Dey won t have it in de good place, dey won t 
 have it in de bad place wha you s pose he goin go, 
 hein ?" 
 
 " Guess he ll hafter go t the Hio," Lisha answered, 
 with a laugh that ended in a sigh ; " to the Hio, where 
 his on y chick an child is. Canucks," he continued,
 
 UNCLE LISHA S SHOP. 113 
 
 " don t never die, s fur s heard on, ceptin the one at I 
 spoke on. When they git old nough to die they go to 
 Colchester Pint Forty, fifty years f om naow you ll go 
 there, Ann Twine." 
 
 " VVal, da t pooty good place to feesh, don t it? Ah 11 
 rudder go dah as come dead." 
 
 " Fish ! Yes ; fish n inyuns n terbacker s baout 
 all a Canuck keers for. Ann Twine, you re the furderest 
 Canuck f om where ye c n ketch bull-paouts an eels t I 
 ever see. Give em them an inyuns an terbacker, an 
 an ole boss, n a wuthless dog, n they re happy." 
 
 You call it ma dog don t good for somet ing, One 
 Lasha ? You tole him dat he bit you, den he show he 
 good. He fus rate dog, sah. He lay in haouse all a 
 time honly w en he barkin at folks go long on road, n 
 he jes fat as burrer." 
 
 " Good qualities, all on em," said Lisha, " p tic ly in 
 a Canuck dog, bein as fat s butter." 
 
 " Those ere French," Solon Briggs remarked to Pela- 
 tiah, who sat beside him, " is a joe-vial an a fry-volous 
 race." 
 
 " Yus," said Pelatiah, sadly regarding the palms of his 
 mittens, much soiled with handling cord-wood since sled 
 ding had come, " I s pose they be pooty smart to run." 
 
 Solon, disgusted with his unappreciative listener, raised 
 his voice and addressed the Frenchman. " Antwine, 
 didn t your antsisters come from France ?" 
 
 " No, M sieu Brigg, ma aunt seesters an brudder, too, 
 all bawn in Canada. Ma mudder one of it, seester to ma 
 aunt, prob ly." 
 
 " You misconstrowed my inquirement, Antwine," said 
 Solon. " I meant to ast you, wa n t their prosperity at
 
 114 UNCLE LISHA S SHOP. 
 
 was horned before em natyves of France reg lar polly 
 voo Franceys, so tu speak ?" 
 
 Ah do know yas, Ah guess so, Ah guess yes, An- 
 toine replied at random, having no idea of Solon s mean 
 ing. 
 
 * Shah ! Fur s any conjoogle satisfactualness is con- 
 sarned, if a man hain t a lingoist he might s well talk to 
 a sawmill as one o these furrin Canucks, said Solon, and 
 added, " I b lieve I ll take my department an go hum." 
 
 "Ah do know f Ah got it raght, zhontemans," said 
 Antoine, as the wooden latch clattered behind the depart 
 ing wise man, " but Ah link wat you call Solum in 
 Anglish was dam hole foolish, an t it ? There was not 
 a dissenting voice, but Lisha said apologetically, " Oh, 
 wal, Solon means well !" 
 
 " I 11 be darned if I know what he does mean, Sam 
 Lovel said. 
 
 " Wal," said Lisha, " I s pose he s a well-read man, 
 an 
 
 " Dum the well red men !" Sam broke in, "I wish 
 t they was all sick n dead, consarn em! See haow 
 they re cuttin up aout West n in Floridy ! 
 
 Oh, wall, Lisha continued, we re well red o him 
 an them, so le s don t bother !" 
 
 " I don t keer what you say baout red men, ef I was 
 a Ninjun as I be a white man," cried Pelatiah, rising and 
 smacking his mittens together, " while t there was a pale 
 face on the face of the U-nited States of Ameriky, I 
 wouldn t never lay daown my bow-arrers, my tommy- 
 hock, an my wampum ; never, no, never !" 
 
 Guess ye d hev tu lay daown yer -wampum f I mended 
 yer boots, Peltier," said Lisha, and Sam Lovel advised
 
 UNCLE LISHA S SHOP. 115 
 
 the budding orator to " save that ere fur the spellin 
 school ex cises next week." 
 
 There was not much further discourse, for Lisha was 
 yawning, and his guests took the hint, as broad as his jaws 
 could compass, and went their ways homeward, Antoine 
 singing " Papineau" at the top of his sonorous voice, 
 and all joining in the ringing refrain, " Hurrah, pour 
 Papineau !" till even the owls were stirred from their 
 solemn propriety, and sent back responsive hoots from 
 their gloomy fastnesses among the steeps of Hogs Back 
 Mountain.
 
 XIII. 
 
 THE FOX HUNT. 
 
 A SOFT snow having fallen, not too deep for the com 
 fortable travelling of those so used to such footing as are 
 the hill folks of Northern New England, almost all of 
 Lisha s friends who were wont to gather in his shop had 
 gone fox-hunting. 
 
 Many times that day Lisha had stood in the doorway to 
 listen to the voices of the hounds, now wafted softer to his 
 ears from the snow muffled woods than in the brighter 
 days of October, when each hound s note was answered by 
 a dozen echoes, all so sharp and clear that one could hardly 
 tell the real voice from the counterfeit. And once when 
 the music tended toward a runway two furlongs down the 
 road, where the points of two ledges flanked the highway 
 on either side, the old man had taken down his long gun 
 and bare-headed, in his shirt-sleeves, and with his apron 
 flopping about his legs, waddled like a hurried duck half 
 way to the cross ing- place. But the fox then changed his 
 course and drew the clamor tapering into silence beyond 
 the crest of a great ridge, and Lisha, after some shivering 
 waiting had cooled his ardor, went back to his bench. 
 He was impatient for evening to come that he might hear 
 how it had fared with the hunters, but they were too leg- 
 weary that night to leave their own firesides, even for the 
 pleasure of "swapping lies" and comparing notes con-
 
 UNCLE LISHA S SHOP. 117 
 
 cerning the day s events. The next night, however, 
 brought most of them to the accustomed meeting place, 
 ready to talk or listen. Lisha missed the blonde-bearded 
 face and tall, gaunt form of Sam Lovel, the mightiest 
 hunter of them all. 
 
 " Where s Samwill ?" he roared, as if he was hailing the 
 mountains. " Them ere long laigs o his n hain t gin 
 aout, hev they ?" 
 
 "I sh d think not," Joe Hill answered; "he went 
 trampoosin off on t the North Hill airly this mornin 
 arter a fox. We hearn the ol dawg a too tin on it tu him 
 yit as we come along. F Sam c n git him off he 11 be 
 comin long this way hum tu rights." 
 
 " What a darned critter !" said Lisha, his tone express 
 ing more approval than his words, " up an at it, every 
 day an all day !" 
 
 " Sam well," said Solon Briggs, " is a reg lar Ramrod, 
 so tu speak ; a mighty hunter afore the Lord. He 11 
 foller a fox from Daniel to Bashaby afore he 11 delinquish 
 the purshoot, or less the nocturnity of night comes on tu 
 him, which that periodical of natur has now arriven an 
 come, an therefore he will most proberble du likewise soon." 
 
 The sounds of heavy boots being rid of snow by stamp 
 ing and scraping on the doorstep and the impatient whine 
 of a dog were heard, and the predictions of Joe and the 
 wise Solon were speedily fulfilled by the entrance of Sam 
 and his gaunt, sad-faced hound, with a whiff of chill outer 
 air, as if the hunter had brought down a bagful of the 
 North Hill s breezy atmosphere to sweeten the shop with. 
 As Lisha shouted his welcome the eyes of every one sought 
 first the capacious pockets of Sam s frock, and saw hang 
 ing out of one the fluffy brush of a fine fox.
 
 n8 UNCLE LISHA S SHOP. 
 
 " Wai, Sam, ye got him, hey ?" 
 
 " Got one on em," he said, in a tone that implied no 
 great satisfaction with his luck. " Started two more, but 
 one on em holed in half an hour, an t other one dodged 
 me till it got so dark I couldn t see tu shoot, n so I 
 called ol Drive off an come along. 
 
 Drive, who had stretched his weary length by the stove, 
 raised his head and cast a sorrowful look on his master. 
 
 Wai, dawg, ye didn t wanter hunt all night for nothin , 
 did ye?" Sam asked, and Drive, sighing, laid his head 
 again on its pillow of leather scraps, and wagged a few 
 feeble taps on the floor, so signifying that he did not quite 
 understand it, but concluded it was all right. 
 
 " Hain t hed a mou ful t eat sen mornin , hev ye, Sam- 
 will ?" Lisha asked, and answered, "Course ye hain t! 
 Mother!" roaring to his wife as if she had been in the 
 next township instead of the next room, and then, as Aunt 
 Jerusha opened the door, " can t ye give Samwill a bite?" 
 
 " No, don t gi me a bite, Aunt Jerushy ; I d ruther 
 you d gim me a kiss," cried the gallant hunter. 
 
 I sha n t du nary one, Samwill, said Aunt Jerusha, 
 "I sh d hev Huldy Purin t n arter me, but I ll give ye 
 some rye n Injin bread an col pork n beans." 
 
 " An give Drive that ere hasty puddin ," said Lisha, 
 as Sam and the hound followed Aunt Jerusha into the 
 kitchen. Then Lisha asked, " Wai, boys, haow d d ye 
 make it a-huntin yist d y. Any on ye kill anythin ?" 
 
 " Yes," Joe Hill answered, " Sam killed a fox" [" Of 
 course," said Lisha, in parenthesis], " an the was one or 
 two on us got shots at a fox. 
 
 "Which Jozeff P. Hill was one," said Solon Briggs, 
 " a-firin of his gun one several time at two identickle
 
 UNCLE LISHA S SHOP. 119 
 
 foxes twicte, which opponent du declare the heretobefore- 
 said Jozeff P. did not tu no intense an puppuses tech ary 
 one on em !" 
 
 " An Solon Briggs was another," retorted Joe. 
 " Nor du I deny the acquisition intire, though my gun 
 discharged an went off a-pintin tu a opposyte direction 
 tu what the fox was at them moments of time a-occupyin 
 of, so it can t be said with strict incoherence tu the truth, 
 that I shot at him." 
 
 " Haow did that happen ?" Lisha asked. 
 " Wai, the circumstances was these an happened thus : 
 I was a-settin on a lawg a-meditatin on the mutualability 
 of the human life of mankind, pa tic ly in fox-huntin , for 
 I hed n t heard a haoun in an hour, when my intention 
 was distracted by a leetle noise behind me, an turnin my 
 head, there stood a gre t big fox not more n three rod off, 
 jes s if he was an appargotion that had riz aout of the 
 baowels of the airth, which I was flustrated tu the extent 
 of my gun a goin off an dischargin with the butt a-pint 
 in at the anymil fur cluster an what the muzzle was. It 
 was one of the accidentalist accidents that ever happened 
 to my exper ence, for I hed fust-rate sight on that fox if 
 my gun had only ben pinted right" 
 
 An what hev you got tu say fur yerself, Jozeff ? 
 " Oh, I d know nothin what the matter was ailded 
 things," Joe replied, looking up at the low ceiling as if he 
 expected some solution of the cause of his unaccountable 
 misses to come from above. " I guess the ol gun hain t 
 good for nothin or I d know but the gun s good 
 nough, but the paowder ; I don t b lieve the paowder s 
 wuth a darn ! But mebby t wa n t the paowder guess 
 like s not the shot wa n t big nough, or I spilt some
 
 120 UNCLE LISHA S SHOP. 
 
 on em a-loadin in a hurry, or suthin or nuther I d 
 know." 
 
 " You re sartain t wa n t no fault o your shootin , 
 hain t ye, Jozeff ? You shot stret nough : we allus du, 
 all on us," said Lisha, his eyes twinkling like the gleam of 
 his awl in the candle-light. 
 
 " Wai, I never hed no better sight on nothin in my life 
 n I did on both them ere foxes " 
 
 " Not on that ere aowl ?" Lisha interrupted. 
 
 " Humph ! We hain t talkin baout aowls ! Come 
 to think on t, I guess they was tew fur off." 
 
 " Guess they be naow," from Lisha. 
 
 " Wai, anyhaow, I made the fur fly onct !" 
 
 "No daoubt on t, no daoubt on t, both times, an 
 jist as fas as four scairt legs could make it fly ! Oh, good 
 airth an seas ! I wish t I d got a shot ! I d ha showed 
 ye ! When my old connon gits pinted at em, it fetches 
 em, I tell ye !" 
 
 " Haow clus does it fetch em naow, Uncle Lisha?" 
 isked he who never spoke but to propound some great 
 question. 
 
 " So clus tu," Lisha answered impressively, " that gen- 
 ally I can git their skins off on em. Peltier," he con 
 tinued, turning his glasses on the young fellow, " you 
 hain t ben heard from yit" 
 
 " Oh, I didn t cal late tu shoot nothin , only went fer 
 the fun on t ! Didn t see nothin nor git nothin , only a 
 pocketful o gum. Hassome ?" he asked, passing about 
 his big palm full of spruce gum, like a rudely moulded tray 
 of clay filled with bits of rough amber. Each one took a 
 piece. The smokers laid aside their pipes, the tobacco- 
 chewers resigned their quids, and all went into a com-
 
 UNCLE LISHA S SHOP. 121 
 
 mittee of the whole to ruminate on the resin of the 
 spruce. 
 
 After all the reports were in it was found that none had 
 shot at a fox but Sam, Joe, and Solon, and of these with 
 any success only the first named, who, having now 
 strengthened his interior with a goodly lining of Aunt 
 Jerusha s pork and beans and brown bread, returned to 
 the shop. Declining to exercise his jaw on an offered 
 portion of Pelatiah s treat, he filled and lighted his pipe, 
 and got himself into a restful position on a roll of sole- 
 leather. " Wai," he said, alter getting his pipe in full 
 blast, " I seen suthin on the North Hill at s an oncom- 
 mon sight now er-days." 
 
 " What was that?" one asked, and others guessed " a 
 painter," " a wolf," " a woolyneeg," or the tracks of the 
 animals named. 
 
 " Was it the footprints of some avarocious annymill, or 
 the annymill hisself ?" Solon Briggs inquired. 
 
 " Nary one," said Sam, and added after a few deliber 
 ate puffs, during which the curiosity of his auditors grew 
 almost insupportable, " a deer track." 
 
 "Good airth an seas! You don t say so, Sam will ? 
 I hain t seen nor hearn tell o one a-bein raound in five, 
 I d know but ten, year. Did ye foller it, Sam will ? It s 
 a tol able good snow fur still-huntin ." 
 
 "Foller it? No!" Sam answered emphatically. 
 " What would I foller it for? I wouldn t shoot a deer on 
 these ere hills f I had a dozen chances at him !" 
 
 " I swan I would," said Pelatiah. 
 
 " Yas," said Sam, with contemptuous wrath, "you 
 would, I ha no daoubt on t, an so would three quarters 
 on em shoot the las deer f he come to their stacks an eat
 
 122 UNCLE LISHA S SHOP. 
 
 along with their cattle, jes as Joel Bajtlett did, consarn 
 his gizzard ! I wish t was State s prison tu kill a deer any 
 time o year, an hed ben twenty year ago. Then we 
 might hev some deer in these ere woods, where the 
 hain t one naow tu ten thousand acres, n where forty 
 year ago the was hundreds on em, n might jes as well 
 be naow, if t wan t fer the dum d hogs an fools. I 
 knowed critters at went on tew legs an called emselves 
 men, at when I was a boy useter go aout in Febwary an 
 March an murder the poor creeturs in their yards with 
 clubs, twenty on em in a day, when they wa n t wuth 
 skinnin fur their skins, say nothin baout the meat, which 
 the wa n t nough on tew carcasses tu bait a saple trap. 
 An some o them things is a-livin yit, an would du the 
 same again if they hed the chance. If they was gone an 
 a wolf left in the place of each one on em, the airth would 
 be better off, a darned sight. Cuss em, they re wus n 
 In j ins !" 
 
 The stillness that followed this outburst of the hunter s 
 righteous indignation was broken by Solon s rasping pre 
 liminary " Ahem ! That ere last remark o yourn is an 
 on-dutible fact. The abregoines would not perforate sech 
 an act, because in so a-duin they would ampitate their 
 own noses off, deer a-bein their gret mainstayance, both 
 intarnally an out-tarnally that is to say, both food an 
 remnants. 
 
 "Wai," said Lisha, as he soused a tap in his tub, 
 " the can t nob dy say t ever I crusted deer, but the 
 was nough on em t did, twenty, thirty year ago, an 
 mis able murderin business it was, tew. The was one 
 man, though," he continued, after some vigorous pound-
 
 UNCLE LISHA S SHOP. 123 
 
 ing of the tap on his lapstone, " at got cured o crustin 
 for his lifetime, which it shortened it, tew." 
 
 " Itortt been shortened afore ever he wenta-crustin ," 
 said the relentless Sam. " Wai, haow was t, Uncle 
 Lisha ? 
 
 "Wai," said Lisha, taking the last peg from between 
 his lips and driving it home, " I guess it s gittin ruther 
 late t begin a story t night, hain t it ? Baout what time 
 s it got tu be, anyway? Peltier, you jes go t the 
 kitchen door n ast Jerushy, won t ye?" 
 
 "Hoi* on; I ve got my crow monitor," said Solon, 
 tugging at a leathern thong that hung from his fob, and 
 presently dragging forth what looked like a goodly sized 
 copper porringer, he consulted it for a minute and pro 
 claimed the hour to be " agoin on tu nine o clock." 
 
 " I want er know ! Wai, bein it s so late, n some 
 on ye s got quite a piece tu go, I guess I won t tell baout 
 it t night Nex time ye come I will f ye 11 put me in 
 mind on t" 
 
 " Prawberbly, in consequent of the demoteness of the 
 inhabitations of some here and present, and the a-proach- 
 ness of the hour for expirin to bed, it would be more 
 judiciouser to prefer the narrowation of Uncle Lisha s story 
 ontil another of aour conjovial gatherin s" which sug 
 gestion of Solon s all fell in with, and Sam Lovel, taking 
 his gun from the corner and whistling up his chase-weary 
 hound, all departed, leaving Lisha to snuff out the shop 
 candle and retire to the kitchen, where, smoking the last 
 pipe of the evening with his stockinged feet toasting on 
 the stove hearth, the purring of the cat, the drowsy song 
 of the tea-kettle, and Aunt Jerusha s monotonous counting
 
 124 UNCLE LISHA S SHOP. 
 
 of the stitches as she narrowed the thumb of a striped mit 
 ten, one tew three, narrer ; one tew three, 
 narrer," soon set him to nodding. 
 
 "Why, father," said the good dame, casting a side 
 glance at him from her knitting when his pipe dropped 
 from his mouth, why don t ye go tu bed, stiddy settin 
 there a noddin like a hard s grass head in a July wind ?" 
 
 "I wa n t a-noddin nuther, n hain t a bit sleepy," 
 he said, opening his eyes as wide as possible. I was 
 on y medytatin ." But he went to bed.
 
 XIV. 
 NOAH CHASE S DEER-HUNTING. 
 
 AFTER the soft snowfall the grip of winter tightened with 
 sharper weather, and it was a nipping night when Lisha s 
 friends, the creaking of whose coming footsteps he heard 
 twenty rods away, again entered the shop. Each as he 
 came in made his way quickly to the ruddy, roaring stove, 
 and hardly one failed to shrug his shoulders with a shiver 
 ing " booh !" rub his hands, stamp his feet, and proclaim 
 in some form of words that the night was cold, as if that 
 was something which needed every man s testimony to 
 establish as a fact 
 
 Joseph Hill remarked, as he rubbed his ears, that " the 
 skeeters bit" The inquirer stared at him, and asked, 
 " Bit who ?" and said he hadn t "seen no skeeters sen 
 September. 
 
 Another said, Tell ye what, it s pretty cold, " as if he 
 was the original discoverer of this condition of the atmos 
 phere. 
 
 Pelatiah asked Sam Lovel, " S this col nough for 
 ye, Samwel ?" and Sam answered, as he fanned himself 
 with his fur cap, Cold nough ? No. I want it cold 
 nough tu freeze the blaze of a match tu a pipe. I m 
 most melted, n wish t I could set top o Tater Hill n 
 hour er tew n cool off." Pelatiah said, " Sho !" and 
 " guessed he was a-jokin ."
 
 126 UNCLE LISHA S SHOP. 
 
 Solon Briggs s opinion was that it was " congealous, 
 and that the muckery would prawberbly condescend to 
 twenty-four below jehu, I wou say, below zeno, afore 
 mornin ." And Antoine, hugging himself, declared that 
 it was " bien froid, " which, after Canuck fashion, he pro 
 nounced " ban fret," and then translated, " Col lak a 
 dev, bah gosh ; more he was Canada, yas, sah. And so 
 encouraging one another, they became firmly settled in the 
 belief that the night was indeed a cold one, and Lisha, as 
 he opened the stove door, using the corner of his apron 
 for a holder, and fed the little demon a bellyful of white 
 birch, gave it as his opinion, that " if the wind riz it would 
 be a reg lar rip snorter. 
 
 "And naow," said Solon, when Lisha had established 
 himself in the polished leathern seat of his bench, " arfter 
 the preluminary remarks at you made at aour prevarious 
 meetin , it is confidentially espected at you will perceed 
 to dilate your narrowly ve." 
 
 "Yas," Antoine urged, "you goin fill up you 
 promise, don t it, One Lasha, hein ?" 
 
 " Wai, boys, f I must I must, I s pose," said Lisha, 
 pulling hard at his pipe between words, " but I hain t no 
 gret at tellin stories. Ye see after some silent back 
 tracking of memory " twas baout Noer Chase ; he was 
 the fust one in taown t hed a pleasure waggin, n they 
 uster call it Noer s Ark. He d ben sellick man three fo 
 years, n sot in the leegislatur onct cousin t Jerushy, 
 tew n orter ben in better business n goin crustin , but 
 he went, n more n onct. So one March the was the 
 alfiredest crust, n he hedn t nothin tu du much, n 
 says he, I guess I ll hassome fun, says he. So he got 
 him a club, an put on his snowshoes an put er fer a
 
 UNCLE LISHA S SHOP. 12? 
 
 basin up in the maountin where he knowed the was 
 some deer a-yardin . I know the ezack spot, an so du 
 you, Samwill. Right up where the east branch o Stunny 
 Brook heads. He got Amos Jones tu go long with him, 
 n they got there an faound the deer, twenty on em or 
 more, a-yardin raound in the little spruces, n all poorer 
 n wood. Wai, they scahtered em aout an went at em. 
 Amos he seen Noer knock down ten on em and cut the 
 thruts, n then he telled ? im for tustop, f that was nough. 
 But Noer he laughed n said he was jes beginnin tu 
 hassome fun ; n then he put arter a doe that was heavy 
 with fa n, n as he run up longside on her, she stumbled 
 in the crust, her laigs all a-bleedin , an rolled up er eyes 
 tumble pitiful tow-wards him, an gin a-beseechin kind 
 of a blaat An Amos he hollered aout tu Noer t let er 
 lone, but Noer he on y laughed n said haow t he was 
 goin ter kill tew tu one shot, n he gin er a lick on the 
 head with his club fore Amos co ld git tu him." 
 
 " Damn im !" growled Sam. 
 
 " Amos didn t hardly never cuss, but I s pose he ripped 
 aout then n gin it tu Noer hot n heavy, n said he 
 was a good min tu sarve im s he d sarved the doe ; n 
 jes then he happened tu see that Noer was standin long 
 side o the doe, right onderneath an onlucky tree, n 
 then he said he knowed suthin ould happen tu im, n 
 tol im so. But Noer on y laughed at im, n called im 
 a sup stitious chickin-hearted ol granny, an took aout 
 his knife tu cut the doe s thrut. Amos couldn t stan it 
 tu see no more sech murderin , n so he cleared aout 
 and went hum. Wai, Noer finished the doe, n then 
 took arter a-yullin buck next. The buck started daown 
 the maountin, n bein putty light he skinned it long
 
 128 UNCLE LISHA S SHOP. 
 
 putty pood jog, so s t Noer couldn t ketch up with im 
 s easy s he hed with t other ones. So Noer gin to git 
 mad, n doubled his jumps, n went tearin daown hill 
 lickerty split, n hed mos* ketched up tu the deer, when 
 the toe of his snowshoe ketched int the limb of a blowed- 
 daown tree, an he fell, kerlummux ! n struck his laig 
 on another limb on t an broke his laig." 
 
 " Good !" cried Sam. 
 
 "His laig pained him onmassyfully, n like nough he 
 hurt his head tew, for he went inter a swound, I s pose," 
 continued Lisha, after nodding to Sam, " an he lay quite 
 a spell fore he come tu, n twas mos night. Fust 
 thing, he tried tu git up ; but he couldn t make it aout 
 till he got holt of a-saplin an pulled hisseif up, n then 
 he couldn t take a step. An while he stood there a-con- 
 siderin , that ere doe appeared right afore him, lookin at 
 him jes* as she did when he run her daown ! He said, 
 Shoo ! but she didn t stir a mite, and then he reached 
 daown an picked up his club an hove it at er, n he said it 
 went through her jes s if she d ben a puff o smoke, an 
 it went a-scootin over the crust twenty rods daown the hill, 
 n she never stirred ! He tried to walk agin, but he 
 couldn t step a step, an then he goddaown on all fours 
 an crawled s well s he could tow-wards the clearin s, an 
 that ere doe kep allers jes so fur ahead on him, allers 
 lookin at him jes as she did afore he knocked her in the 
 head. An when it begin tu grow duskish the was a wolf 
 set upa-yowlin behind him as he snailed along a-groanin 
 an a-sweatin like a man a-mowin , an not goin more 
 n a rod in five minutes, n then tew more wolves jined 
 in a yowlin so clus tu him this toes tickled, n when 
 he looked over his shoulder he could see the dum d crit-
 
 UNCLE LISHA S SHOP. 129 
 
 ters a-shoolin long arter him like black shadders, n 
 every naow n then sittin up on their rumps an yowlin 
 for more tu jine em. An all the time that ere doe kep 
 jes so fur ahead on him, allers a-lookin at im jes so 
 mournful. Bimebye arter dark, he got tu the clearin , n 
 he couldn t go no furder, so he sot his back agin a tree 
 n sot there an hollered with his club in his hand, for 
 he d picked it up in his crawlin , an there he sot, n 
 there the wolves sot, an right betwixt em stood the doe, 
 which the wolves never took no more noticte on her n 
 of a shadder. Arter awhile seemed s ough t was a 
 week t Noer someb dy hearn the rumpus, wolves a yowl- 
 in an man a-hollerin , an Aar n Gove an Moses Han 
 son n mongst em rallied aout an went up, an faound 
 him an fetched im hum. They got a darkter an sot 
 his laig, but he was sick for three months, n many a 
 time, they said, he seen that ere doe a-lookin in t the 
 winder n hearn the wolves a-yowlin raound the haouse, 
 hut the could none o the rest on em see her nor hear 
 the wolves. Bimebye he got better, an so s t he could 
 git aout raound. An then his son, the on y one t he 
 had, went off t the fur West a-trappin an a-tradin fer 
 furs an skins, an got killed by Injins, an then his oldest 
 darter run away with a wuthless, drinkin goo -for-nothin 
 creetur ; an his other darter married an Irishmun, an , 
 wust of all, so Noer said, Amos Jones come up tu see him, 
 and said, I tol* yer so ! Then Noer got wus an run 
 int the consumption, n arter lingerin an lingerin , he 
 died." 
 
 " All of which," said Sam Lovel, " sarved him right, 
 and," lifting to his lips the broken-handled pitcher of stale 
 water that stood on a shelf in the corner, seldom replen-
 
 1 30 UNCLE LISffA S SHOP. 
 
 ished but never quite empty, " here s a-hopesin* that all 
 crusters may forever meet the same fate. Amen !" 
 
 " Haow long," put in the inquirer, " haow long did 
 Noer Chase hev the consumption ?" 
 
 Ten year, Lisha replied. 
 
 Was that all ? said the inquirer. 
 
 " I don t b lieve, " said Pelatiah, wiping his nose with 
 his right-hand mitten, " at ever I ll crust hunt a deer s 
 long s I live and breathe." 
 
 I don t b lieve ye will nuther, said Sam, not in 
 these parts, for ye won t hev the chance. But I wanter 
 tell ye one thing, Peltier, the nex wust thing tu crustin 
 deer is snarin patridges ! One day in the fall I was 
 huntin up through yer father s woods, an I come acrost 
 a leetle low brush fence with snares sot in the gaps. I 
 tore it all daown, an one gret cock patridge t I faound 
 a-hangin by the neck I hove off int the woods for the 
 foxes t eat You sot them snares, Peltier, n you hadn t 
 ort t done it. Every time I find any sech contraption, 
 I ll spile it, no matter who sot it. Xceptin ugly and 
 mischievous critters at won t let ye hunt em no ways 
 decent, give all God s creeturs a fair chance. Foller em 
 up an shoot em ef ye can, in the times t they d ort tu 
 be shot, but not no other times. Not no nestin good birds 
 norbreedin an sucklin beasts that s wuth a-savin . Then 
 when ye die, f you ve ben honest an decent tu folks, ye 
 won t hev nothin tu torment ye. Naow, Peltier, you 
 remember what I tell ye, an don t ye never snare no 
 more patridges, or less ye 11 hav an ol hen patridge 
 a-hantin on ye jes* as that ere doe did Noer Chase." 
 
 " As true s I live, Samwill, I won t never again." 
 
 Ez for Noer Chase, which I remember him well as a
 
 UNCLE LISHA S SHOP. 131 
 
 consumptuous invalidge in the days of my youthful indo- 
 lescense," Solon Briggs remarked, "it is my o-pinion 
 that his fate was a just contribution for his predatorious 
 onrightiousness. " 
 
 Wai, sah, said Antoine, who had long been waiting 
 to put in a word, " dem Anglish officy in Canada when he 
 go huntin long wid Injin keel moose mos same like 
 Noel ; fin em in yard, run it daown, shoot it, carree off 
 horn, litly bit meat, skin, maybe, leave it rest of it for 
 wolf. Show horn, Hoorah ! Ah keel it moose ! 
 Ah come porty near keel one of dat officy tarn Papineau 
 war ; me wish Ah have, bah gosh !" 
 
 " I ve heard on it, Ann Twine. He chased ye an 
 you run, an he follored till he putty nigh broke his wind. 
 He run a narrer chance of his life, sartin. 
 
 " Ah, One Lasha, who tole it you dat lies, hein ?" 
 
 " I dunno s I know, Uncle Lisher ; seems ogh I did 
 tew, but guess t I don t," said Joseph Hill, " jes ezackly 
 what an onlucky tree is. Dunno but I did know onct, 
 but I ve kinder forgot." 
 
 " Wai," said Lisha, " what some calls an onlucky tree, 
 an thinks is, is a sea se kind of a tree, half way twixt a 
 cat spruce an a pitch pine. The leaves is longer n a 
 spruce n shorter n a pine, an the branches grows scrag- 
 gider n any spruce. They hain t no size never seen one 
 more n ten inches t the butt. They hain t no good, n 
 I d know s they be any hurt, but some folks thinks they 
 be, an you couldn t git em tu go a-nigh one for nuthin . 
 Think if they du the 11 suthin drefful happen tu em or 
 some o their folks. I p sume the hain t nothin of it 
 N naow I guess it s baout time tu shet up shop an 
 maouths. "
 
 XV. 
 
 THE HARD EXPERIENCE OF MR. ABIJAH JARVIS. 
 
 THE south wind had been roaring for forty-eight hours 
 after its first piercing chill, softening the snow so that it 
 took the imprint of the foot of man and beast as sharp and 
 clear as an impression in wax ; then bringing to its surface 
 weeds and tops of knolls, then making it so splashy that 
 the brooks burst their bonds and overran them in swishing 
 yellow floods, when one January night Lisha s friends 
 came straggling in over the sloppy roads. The talk ran 
 naturally to tracking coons, which the weather favored, 
 then to the life and habits of the animal. 
 
 " Wai, boys," said Lisha, splashing a tap in the tub, 
 "s pose ye 11 all be arter coons termorrer, won t ye? 
 This thaw 11 fetch em aout. " 
 
 " Wai, I d know," Sam Lovel answered ; " I kind er 
 thought I d take a little turn arter em f nothin happens." 
 
 " Dat what we 11 call it chat sauvage in Canada Ah 
 guess so, coon? Dat same ting Ah 11 hear it sometam 
 rrrac coon ? Yas ? 
 
 " Sartinly, Antwine," said Solon Briggs, " coon and 
 raccoon is what we call anonymous terms for one and the 
 same annymill. Raccoon, I expect, is a Latin or Greece 
 word, which coon is the English of it." 
 
 " Then grease is their name as well as their natur , for 
 they re the fattest creeturs, said Sam.
 
 UNCLE LISIfA S SHOP. 133 
 
 " Naow, Antwine," asked Solon, "what might be the 
 true meanin an interporation of shaw sy vadge ?" 
 
 " Wall, M sieu Brigg, lemme see, Ah 11 tole you chat, 
 he mean cat, an sauvage, he mean he don t tame 
 m what you call em wil ? Chat sauvage, wil cat. 
 On stan ?" 
 
 " Hm ! yes, wildcat, or tu speak more egg/ack, puttin 
 the cart afore the hoss arter the French fashion, cat wild, 
 similar tu shovelnware for a black hoss, which shovel 
 means hoss an nware means black. Naow, hain t 
 that a most onnat ral hist ry name, so tu speak, for a coon 
 or a raccoon, which it hain t noways the natur of the 
 felime race, but much more resemblances a bear, a-layin 
 dormouse in winter an eatin corn an shack as much as 
 meat victuals, as no critters of the cat speshy do ?" 
 
 " Sartin, Solon, you re right," said Sam, "a coon 
 ould make a first-rate little bear f twan t fer his tail. 
 He s jes as independent, an hoggish, an sorter cunnin - 
 foolish, an fond of water an mud, an sweet- toothed, an 
 hot-toothed, tew, fer he ll dig wild turnips an eat em jes 
 s a bear will. Haow on airth any critter t ha n t got its 
 maouth an insides lined with sheet iron can chaw an 
 swaller a green wild turnip s more n I can understand. 
 Why, it s wus n forty thaousan red-hot needles a-jabbin 
 int yer tongue, f ye ever bit one." 
 
 Almost every one present confessed to having been 
 fooled in the days of his youth by some rough practical 
 joker into tasting the bulbous root of the plant, whose 
 snake-like spathe should warn one that it biteth even like 
 a serpent and stingeth like an adder. 
 
 " Wai, naow," said Lisha, laying aside his lapstone, 
 shoving his spectacles on to the top of his head, and rest-
 
 134 UNCLE LISHA S SHOP. 
 
 ing his elbows on his knees, that makes me think of a 
 man at I knowed at come tu his death along o foolin 
 a boy with a wild turnip, n I d know but what it sarved 
 him putty nigh right, naow ra ly I don t. His name was 
 Bijer Jarvis. Why, some on ye knowed im ; he use ter 
 run the sawmill up in the Notch. He was a red-headed, 
 cross-grained, ill-natured creetur, t would druther see 
 folks in hot water n aout on t. Good airth an seas ! f 
 I ha n t spoke in meetin , fer he was Peltier s uncle ! 
 Peltier s mother was a Jarvis. But she wa n t tu blame 
 fer it, n I hain t goin tu spile a story fer relation s sake, 
 so ye need n t take no pride in what I say, Peltier." 
 
 " Honh ! Gol darn Uncle Bije ! Blast his ole pic- 
 ter 1" exclaimed Pelatiah, "he never done nothin fer 
 none o aour folks ony cheat father aout n a yoke o tew- 
 ye r-ol steers, so I hearn em tell. Ye need n t spile no 
 stories baout him on my caount, Uncle Lisher. 
 
 Wai, Lisha continued after this little interruption, 
 " Bijer was a-runnin the sawmill, an one mornin when 
 he was a-goin long the road through the woods tu the 
 mill he seen a wild turnip an pulled it, an kerried it 
 long, thinkin mebbe t he d dry it agin he had a cough in 
 the fall, for some sets gret store by wild turnips dried an" 
 grated an took in lasses fer a hackin cough. Curous, 
 hain t it, t when they re dried they ha no more taste intu 
 em n a piece o chalk ? Wai, he mogged along tu the 
 mill an rolled a lawg on t the kerridge an dogged it an 
 histed the gate, an jes then there come along a boy 
 a-fishin o the name o Morrison, an stopped tu see him 
 saw. He was al ays a-gawpin raound, lookin at the 
 contraptions an askin questions, more n boy-fashion, 
 fer he seem tu be kinder studyin intu em, n they said
 
 UNCLE LISHA S SHOP. 135 
 
 *t he made a reg lar little sawmill complete, kerridge, rag 
 wheel an all, an sot it a-runnin in a brook clus tu his 
 folkses. It al ays made Bijer Grosser n two sticks tu see 
 him raound, n* he didn t take no notice on him till 
 bimeby he happened tu think of the turnip, n he ast 
 im *f he liked apples, n he said he did, fer who ever see 
 a boy t didn t ? Then s he, Did ye ever eat any sweet 
 graound apples ? Here s one o" the sweetest ever ye see, 
 handin on im the turnip ; take a bite o it. The boy 
 took a good bite an chawed it kinder slow, lookin at 
 Bijer, but Bijer looked tumble honest n clever s he ever 
 could, so the boy didn t think nothin . In tew three min 
 utes it begin tu take holt, n then he begin tu sputter n 
 spit n cry, an holler t his maouth was full o bumble 
 bees an hornets, n Bijer settin there on the lawg goin intu 
 fits a-laughin at im, till the boy cleared aout, mos crazy 
 with the fire in his maouth, n Bijer didn t see nothin 
 on im agin fer a month, till one day he popped up ahind 
 a pile o boards a-shakin his fist at im an hollered, 
 You ol red-headed heap ! I ll pay ye some time, see 
 f I don t, n scooted aout o sight fore Bijer could fling 
 an aidgin* at im. All this while an arter, things kep 
 gittin aout o kilter raound the mill : sticks in the wheel, 
 bull-wheel rope wore aout n breakin , saw duller n a 
 hoe, all kinder onaccaountable, nobody knowed haow. 
 Bimeby long late in the fall when the pond froze over, 
 Bijer was a-fussin raound the bulkhead one day, chop- 
 pin a lawg loose, or suthin nuther, n bimeby he broke 
 through an went in kersouze ! n he couldn t git aout, 
 fer the ice wouldn t hold an the lawgs an bulkhead n 
 things was all ice, so s t he couldn t keep no holt on em, 
 n the water all the while a-suckin his laigs int the
 
 136 UNCLE LISHA S SHOP. 
 
 flume. Jest then he seen that ere boy come skatin long 
 the pond, n he hollered fer him tu reach him a pole or a 
 board, but the boy kep a-skitterin raound a-laughin at 
 im, an says he, Ole red-head, don t ye wish t ye hed 
 one o them sweet graound apples tu warm ye up ? Mus 
 be kinder cool bathin in there. I d go n dig ye one f 
 t wa n t all froze up. Bijer begged an cussed an 
 sploshed raound, an cussed an begged, n last when he 
 was mos tuckered aout he begin tu pray, n then that 
 ere imp of a boy hooked a pike pole into his cut-collar 
 an hauled him on t the ice n snaked him ashore. 
 He couldn t stan , n the boy went arter somebody, n 
 they kerried im hum. He never got well agin arter, nor 
 able tu walk. Some said t was rheumatiz, n some said 
 t was dyspepsy in the laigs I do know. One day the 
 nex summer when they d sot im aout on the stoop tip 
 ped back in his cheer, that ere darned boy come along 
 n stood n gawped at im. Bimeby says he, Mr. 
 Jarvis, says he, I ve brung ye suthin* t 11 du ye 
 good. I ve took lots o trouble tu git it for ye. N he 
 pulled an alfired gret wild turnip rut aout n his pocket 
 Take a bite an chaw it daown, says he, a shovin on it 
 under his nose ; take a bite ; I ve owed ye one more n a 
 year. Bijer gin a kinder start, n the hind laigs of his 
 cheer slipped, n he come daown ker lummux ! n hurt 
 his head some way so s t he died in a week or tew. N 
 that s what he got for feedin* boys wild turnips." 
 
 " Bah gosh ! Ah guess wen he begin to dead he ll 
 sorry he foolish dat boys, an t it ? 
 
 " That boy," said Solon, " was vindictative. " 
 " I do know as that was what they called it," said 
 Lisha ; seems though they said he was injinnew-ous.
 
 UNCLE LISHA S SHOP. 137 
 
 Anyway, he went off, n they say t he s what they call a 
 in j in-near on one o them ere steam railroads daown in 
 Massachusetts somewheres." 
 
 " Du you think, Sammywell, " Solon asked, getting 
 back to the subject under consideration, " that the vocal 
 voice of a coon resemblances a screechaowl ?" 
 
 " Wai," Sam answered, " I do know. Some says that 
 a coon does make a noise sometimes at saounds suth- 
 in like a screechaowl, only kinder hoarser. I had a 
 tame coon onct fer most a year, but I never hearn him 
 du anything but graowl when he was mad, an squall 
 when he was hurt, jes you ve hearn em when a dawg 
 hed a holt on em. He was the cunninest little cuss I 
 Intu all the mischief he could think on, an more tew. 
 The chickins hed tu suffer when he got intu the hen 
 haouse, every time, n he d raise tunkit with everything 
 he could git intu in the haouse. When he was eatin he d 
 keep a-sozzlin his grub in his pan o water all the time. 
 Uncle Lisher makes me think on im every time he 
 sploshes his luther in his tub. Shouldn t wonder, Uncle 
 Lisher, f you turned intu a coon yit" 
 
 " Darn d f I wouldn t like tu part o the year, Sam- 
 will. Wouldn t it be cute to curl up when the col 
 weather come on an snooze till spring or a thaw come, 
 an not haf tu bother gittin wood or grub ? 
 
 " Ye d want tu take yer long pipe with ye, an some 
 terbacker an matches in yer pocket when ye went intu a 
 holler tree t would be lonesome goin without a smoke 
 so long." 
 
 " Naow, does coons hev pockets?" asked the man 
 who never spoke but to ask a question. 
 
 " Course they du," Sam answered shortly ; " inside
 
 138 UNCLE LISHA S SHOP. 
 
 pockets, n I d know but cut-tail pockets an trowses 
 pockets. An then agin, Uncle Lisher, when the come a 
 thaw an ye turned aout an went traipsin raound an 
 somebody tracked ye intu another tree, haow d ye like tu 
 hev em cud daown the tree n knock ye in the head ?" 
 
 1 T would be you, Sam will, at faound me, an you d 
 know me by the smell o luther, n you wouldn t hurt 
 yer Uncle Lisher. N I m glad you made me think on 
 t, fer I guess I d ort tu hev a smuk afore I turn intu a 
 coon." Whereupon he cleaned the bowl of his pipe with 
 an awl, ran a waxed end through the stem, blew through 
 it, and then shaving some tobacco from a plug on his 
 cutting-board with a shoe-knife, was presently in the full 
 enjoyment of what he called a " ri daown good smuk." 
 
 " Ah bet too he a n t fregit when he be coon as you, 
 Sam, haow you lak it you boot, an when you tole im he 
 too tight he say he straysh ! Wen you tole im he too 
 loose, he say he shrimp ! Hein, One Lasha, you 
 don t fregit dat, a n t it ?" 
 
 " Arrrh ! You dum peasouper !" Lisha growled, like 
 a good-natured bear. 
 
 " F you want fur," said Sam, " trackin coons on the 
 snow s all well nough, but it s mortal hard work wal- 
 lerin in the soft snow all day. But f you want fun an 
 music, take yer dawgs an hunt em nights in cornfiel s, 
 an where they ve ben shackin under sweet acorn trees, 
 an sometimes you ll strike a track long a brook where 
 they ve ben a-froggin . Hev tew three good haoun s 
 a-hootin on a track fer a good spell, an then singin 
 halleluyer raound a tree ! That s what I call fun alive . 
 Some druther hev a cur dawg at won t bark till he trees, 
 but gimme more music, f I ve got tu hev less coons."
 
 UNCLE LISHA S SHOP. 139 
 
 " Wai," said Lisha, ramming his pipe with the handle 
 of his awl, " everybody tu their notion, s the ol woman 
 said when she kissed her kyow, but I could n t never 
 sen I was a boy see no gret fun in stumblin raound in 
 the dark n fightin skeeters half the night, fer one or 
 tew coons with baout as much hair on em s the is 
 on the back o yer hand, n like s not, not git nary 
 coon arter all. 
 
 " Why, Uncle Lisher," said Sam Lovel, " didn t we 
 hev fun the night the coons broke up the school-meetin ? 
 an is that ra ly your idee of the fun o huntin , jest tu git 
 suthin that s wuth money ? Seems tu me, if fur an meat 
 s all a feller s arter, he ain t goin tu git no gret comfort 
 aout on t." 
 
 " Shaw, Samwill ! you hain t a-goin tu ondertake tu 
 make me b lieve t you don t feel better a-bringin hum a 
 fox skin, er a coon skin, er half a dozen patridges, n 
 ye du comin hum wi nothin ? I know better n 
 that" 
 
 " Of course I like tu git suthin tu show fer a day s hunt, 
 an it s comf table tu the feelin s tu make a good shot, 
 but f I didn t never git nuthin only what I c n show, I 
 sh ld stay tu hum more n what I du. If dollars an 
 cents an suthin t eat was all I was arter, I d snare pat- 
 ridges n trap foxes, an you never heard o my doin 
 nary one. 
 
 "Wai, then, Samwill, what on airth du ye go fer? 
 Ye hunt more n most anybody I know, an ye git more 
 game. 
 
 " I can t hardly tell, Uncle Lisher. It comes nat ral 
 fer me tu run in the woods. F I du git more game tu 
 show for it n some does, I git suthin besides t I can t
 
 140 UNCLE LISHA S SHOP. 
 
 show. The air o the woods tastes good tu me, fer t 
 hain t ben breathed by nothin but wild creeturs, s n ole 
 feller said at useter git up airly daown in Rho dislan , 
 where my folks come from. I luffter breathe it fore com 
 mon folks has. The smell o the woods smells good tu 
 me, dead leaves n spruce boughs, n rotten wood, n it 
 don t hurt it none if it s spiced up a leetle bit with skunk 
 an* mink an weasel an 1 fox p fum ry. An* I luffter 
 see trees at s older n any men, an graound t wa n t 
 never plaowed er hoed, a-growin nat ral crops. N I 
 luffter hear the stillness of the woods, fer t is still there. 
 Wind a-sythin , leaves a-rustlin , brooks a-runnin , birds 
 a-singin , even a bluejay a squallin , hain t noises. It 
 takes folks an waggins an horses an 1 cattle an pigs an 
 sech to make a noise. I git lots o things a huntin t 
 I can t show ye nor tell ye baout, an a feller that don t, 
 don t git the best o huntin , cordin to my idee." 
 
 " I do know but what ye ve got baout the right on t, 
 Samwill, " said Lisha, after smoking slowly and gazing for 
 some minutes out into the dark through his long window, 
 " I do know but what ye hev, Samwill. Wai, boys, f 
 ye r goin arter coons termorrer ye 11 want er sleep some 
 fust And he arose and took off his apron, and presently 
 the wooden latch clicked behind the last departing guest
 
 XVI. 
 
 THE COON HUNT. 
 
 ONE February night when the crusted snow on the 
 ridges and drifts shone brighter than burnished silver in 
 the slanting rays of the newly-risen moon, Lisha s friends 
 arriving in force found the old man studying his almanac 
 by the light of his little candle. So absorbed was he in 
 the latest work of his favorite author that he barely noticed 
 the entrance of his visitors, and only gave one comprehen 
 sive nod of general recognition and welcome, without 
 averting his gaze from the limp little pamphlet, already 
 well worn, though not yet two months off the store-keep 
 er s shelf. 
 
 "Be you a-studyin of the prognostifications of the 
 weather, Uncle Lisher?" Solon Briggs inquired, craning 
 his neck sidewise from his seat by the stove, " or be you 
 merely divertin the intellecks of your mental mind, a per- 
 ugin of the antidotes ? I b lieve, he continued, addressing 
 the company generally, after waiting in vain for an answer, 
 " at the is more solider inflamation and stay-tistics in the 
 V mont Re-^/sser an what the is in Middlebrookses Far 
 mer s Almynack, which Uncle Lisher is a-readin of ; but 
 Middlebrookses is tol able hefty on weather productions, 
 drawin aside the screenins o futur comin events, as it 
 ware, an the antidotes an re-cypes is amusin an* in- 
 structin . I see at the s tew re-cypes fer curin hams.
 
 142 
 
 UNCLE LISHA S SHOP. 
 
 Like nough Lisher s studyin* them, bein at he killed a 
 hawg last week. 
 
 But Uncle Lisha s spectacles were brought to bear on 
 the page headed with the gray wood-cut of two men break 
 ing and swingling flax, and in the background a prancing 
 horse hitched to a sleigh that he never could break was 
 being swingled by his driver with a club of a whip. 
 Lisha s forefinger went down the columns of the days of 
 the weeks and month as slowly as ran the cautious weather 
 prophecy : 
 
 , Now expect 
 
 , cold weather 
 
 , and good 
 
 , sleighing for 
 
 some 
 
 (Sexeg. Sunday) time 
 
 ( low in South.) 
 
 Cloudy 
 
 , cold weather and 
 
 , likely 
 
 for snow, 
 
 rain 
 
 , and 
 
 hail. 
 
 High winds 
 
 and 
 
 (G. Washington b. 1732.) 
 
 cold. 
 
 Snow. 
 
 till it stopped at " 26, Sat," and underscored the date 
 with a deep nail-mark. " Good airth an seas !" he 
 shouted. " Boys, did ye know t this was the twenty-sixt 
 of Febewary ? This is the day t the ol* bear conies aout ! 
 He s seen his shadder, n he won t poke his nose int the
 
 UNCLE LISHA S SHOP. *43 
 
 daylight agin fer forty days. We sh ll hev a col March, 
 n like nough the wind 11 be north when the sun crosses 
 the line, n then we ll hev a back ard spring n a poor 
 corn year." 
 
 " Bah gosh ! One Lasha, ef dat de way you goin* 
 mek wedder, Ah ant want it you mek heem for me more 
 as a week ! Dat way you ll ant rose no corn fo you 
 bear, hein ?" 
 
 " Arghem !" Solon Briggs began, clearing his throat 
 and sticking his thumbs in the arm-holes of his vest, "I 
 hev my daoubts consarnin the paower of human mortality 
 tu foretell the comin futur weather, which it bein the 
 case, it hain t no way phillysophycable that beasts an 
 annymills, which human man is sot above em, has that 
 segashiousness gin em. Haow is wild geese a-goin tu 
 know more n we du when winter s a-comin , or mush- 
 rats tu perpare their inhabitations when they build 
 haousen fer a more n oncommonly tough winter, or 
 bears an woo chucks know whether the spring 11 be 
 back ard or for ad? Haowever notwithstanding I du 
 not deny there bein signs gi n whereby an by which we 
 can tell suthin more or less haow the weather s a-goin 
 tu be, sech f r instance as hawg s melt an the hus s o 
 corn, the haighth o weeds an et cetery. " 
 
 "Wai, Solon," said Sam, " your idees an mine don t 
 jibe egzackly. You low t a man can tell if it s goin tu 
 be a hard or open winter by lookin t a hawg s melt n 
 corn hus s an so on but annymills can t tell by nothin . 
 Naow, I don t b lieve there s any tellin by a hawg s melt 
 nor corn hus s, fer you ll find dif fent-shaped melts in dif- 
 fent hawgs killed the same day an what awdds does t 
 make tu an ear o corn whether the hus s is thick or thin
 
 144 UNCLE LISHA S SHOP. 
 
 s long s they ll be loosened off fore winter anyway? 
 An the weeds grows tall cause it s a-growin season, not 
 cause the snow s goin tu be deep. But sposen a man 
 can tell by signs t he sees. Why can t annymills, at 
 can see things, an hear things, an smell things t we 
 can t begin tu ? A turkey 11 see a hen hawk fore it be 
 gins tu be a speck in the sky tu you an me, an by seein 
 or smellin a crow 11 find carri n milds off ; a fox 11 smell 
 a maouse, or hear him squeak or rustle the grass furder 
 n we c ld see one on the snow, an he can smell the tech 
 o yer finger on a bait fer a week arter. Swallers know 
 when it s goin tu rain or blow. Mebby they can smell 
 weather I d know. An dumb creeturs has got senses t 
 we ha n t got, besides hevin aourn a good deal sharper n 
 we hev. Haow does a haoun dog strike a bee-line fer 
 hum when he s done a-huntin , or a cat at s ben kerried 
 in a bag thre mild find her way back, or birds find their 
 way thaousan s o miles back an tew year arter year, or 
 foxes know runways t they never seen? Fer my part, 
 I d a good deal druther trust tu dumb creeturs foretellin 
 the weather n seasons n 1 would tu what I c ld find aout 
 by studyin melts an hus s. I d druther take a wild 
 goose s or a mushrat s actions an I would even your word 
 for t, Solon." 
 
 " You can b lieve what y r min tu, Sammy well, but 
 I b lieve at there is sartin signs gi n fer aour guidancin , 
 which, f r instance. I wouldn t kill my hawgs or my beef- 
 crutter in the old o the moon onless I wanted the meat tu 
 shrink in the cookin , ner sow my peas in the wanin o 
 that lunimary f I wanted em tu grow luxuberanL" 
 
 " Wai, wal, l^oys," said Lisha, who had hung the al 
 manac on its nail by the window and trot some work in
 
 UNCLE LI SKA S SHOP. 145 
 
 hand, " nev mind baout the signs, an nev* mind the 
 weather when the wind don t blow. I m achin to hear 
 what luck ye hed arter coons that day. I hearn tye 
 most all went. " 
 
 " Ast Joe," some one said, and Lisha asked, glaring at 
 Joe between his shaggy eyebrows and the top of his spec 
 tacles. " Haow is t, Jozeff ? Be you cock o the walk 
 this time ?" 
 
 " Wai, I d know but what I be, f ye caount walkin 
 an choppin*. I da say I done s much o that s any 
 on em. I spose f I don t give a full caount on t, 
 some on em 11 give a fuller one. Wai, I went, an* 
 Peltier he went along with me, n he didn t kerry no axe ; 
 said t he d got a lame shoulder n couldn t chop thaout 
 mos killin on im. It got well tu rights, though, fer I 
 seen im choppin cord wood nex day. We started aout 
 baout eight clock er ha -past mebby t wa n t more n 
 eight I d know, quarter arter, mebby, n struck a track 
 where three coons d ben long daown in the Beav Med- 
 der swamp in the night. The tracks went a-saunderin 
 raound hither an yon, n fin ly went off up on t the 
 hill east, n then north no t wa n t, t was saouth 
 n then east agin n then north n then east, an* says I to 
 Peltier, says I, they ve went int the laidges n t a* no 
 use in us follerin on em ; but Peltier, says he, le s us 
 f oiler n see where they hev gone. Like nough we c n 
 trap m aout So we follered an 1 follered, snow knee 
 deep, till bimeby, arter they d went all raound Robin 
 Hood s barn, they went towward the Beav Medder agin, 
 an into t, an stopped t the all-tummuttablest gret big 
 ellum in the hull swamp the tracks did. We searched 
 all raound, n couldn t find t they d went any furder, n
 
 146 UNCLE LISHA S SHOP. 
 
 so I off wi my cut an begin tu chop. An I chopped 
 an chopped, n Peltier he stood raound encouragin on 
 me n chawin gum an gruntin every time I swatted 
 the ol axe int the tree, he d grunt I tell ye, he grunted 
 like a good feller, nough tu chop a cord n a half o 
 wood. That ere ol ellum was jes s solid as ol pork 
 clean tu the middle, n twas all o three foot through, I 
 d know but three foot n a half mebby t wa n t but 
 three foot through anyway, t was tougher n a biled 
 aowl, n the wa n t no holler in the butt, n I tol* Pel 
 tier, I did, at I d bate a cookey the wa n t a dum coon 
 in the pleggid ol ellum. Wai, I chopped an chopped, 
 till I sweat like a man a-mowin , an I tell ye I was glad 
 when I see the ol tree begin tu tottle an then come 
 daown kersmash ! An I ll be dum ed if it didn t lodge 
 in another ellum half as big 1 An I hed to chop that 
 daown tew, Peltier helpin on me, chawin gum an grunt- 
 in . Wai, sir, when we got it cud daown, baout noon 
 1 guess t was mebby arter mebby not more n ha past 
 leven the was a hole most t the top big nough tu hold 
 a dozen coons, an the wa n t a dum ed one in it ! 
 It hed froze jest a leetle towward mornin , n they d 
 come aout an gone off on the crust. But we hed us a 
 heap o fun, didn t we, Peltier?" 
 
 " Honh !" Pelatiah snorted, "I do know but what 
 you did." 
 
 " Wai, Sam will," said Lisha, " it s your turn naow." 
 
 " Oh, I didn t du nuthin much. Follered tew int an 
 old basswood stubb t I could mos push over, an* got 
 them an one t was in there afore." 
 
 " Julluk your luck, Sam will," said Lisha. 
 
 * I faound a cur us kind of a thing in the stub, sort of
 
 UNCLE LISHA S SHOP. 147 
 
 a coon plaything, I reckon it is. I brung it along tu show 
 ye, " said Sam, taking out of his pocket a knot or gnarl 
 about the size of a man s fist, and worn quite smooth with 
 much handling (or footing) by the raccoons. 
 
 " Wai," said Lisha, after this had been passed around 
 and examined by all, Pelatiah chipping a side of it with 
 his knife and smelling it, " Wai, wha d you du, Solon ? 
 
 " I did not precipitate in the sports and aversions of the 
 day." 
 
 1 One* Lasha, what for you ant ask it me ? cried 
 Antoine. " Bah gosh ! f Ah 11 git all a coon what Ah 11 
 see dat tarn, Ah ll tole so big story you mos can b lieve 
 him, sah. " 
 
 " Wai, Ann Twine, sposen you tell us what ye seen. 
 I ha no daoubt that 11 be all t we c n swaller tu onct. " 
 
 " Wai, sah, Ah m s go n" tole you de trute, jes sera 
 always Ah do. Ah ll go lone, cause all what Ah git Ah 
 want heem masef, jes lak Sam, ant it, Sam ? Ef t ant foi 
 dat Ah ll have it somebody for what you call heem m 
 wisnit ? Fus ting Ah say, Ah ll want you rembler Ah 
 don t goin tole you where Ah see what Ah ll see cause 
 Ah m s goin git it some tarn, me. 
 
 " Wai, sah, Ah go fin track one chat sauvage, folia him 
 leetly way Ah fin n udder come wid it, bam by nudder, 
 den nudder, den nudder. Ah see so much track Ah mos 
 can co nt it ten, fifteen, twentee, prob ly more as tree 
 four tree full Ah guess so. Wai, Ah folia, folia, folia ver 
 long way. Bamby Ah hear it nowse, mos lak big ham 
 mer ov dar in de forge, ony he ant go so fas Boom t 
 Boom I so, baout fas you breeze you bress. More furder 
 Ah go, more was be dat nowse louder, an Ah begin mos 
 be fred, me, but Ah don care, Ah ll folia dem track till
 
 148 UNCLE LISHA S SHOP. 
 
 Ah come close to big laidge, an dat track all go in leetly 
 hole jes mos too small nough for one coon sauvage. 
 Den Ah see what mek it dat nowse. Yes, sah, you 
 b lieve it me, de whole top dat laidge, big, big rock, more 
 bigger dis shawp, he lif up baout two ninches ver-y slow 
 so den come daown boom I den lif up, den come daown 
 boom / Bamby Ah ll hear it more leetly nowse when rock 
 lif up Squon-n-n-h I lak One Lasha mek it when he be 
 sleep, ony not so louder lak One Lasha. Bamby putty 
 soon Ah bee gin be not so fred, an den Ah ll peeck in 
 hole. Evry tarn rock lif up lit shine in so Ah can see ; 
 an what you tink Ah see? More as tree honded 
 tausen chat r-r- raccoon all fas sleep ! Yes, sah ! Evry 
 tarn he pull his bref he swell up full of breeze an lif up 
 rock. Wen he let it go his bref, den rock come daown 
 boom I Ah 11 see it ; he so far in off Ah can git it. No, 
 sah, Ah ant gat not one of it ! Das too bad. Oh, too 
 bad, too bad !" 
 
 " Wai, I swan tu man !" said Solon, exhaling a long 
 breath. " I du declar, Antwine, you re wus n Annymias 
 an Sophier fer onvoracity." 
 
 " I move," said Lisha, pitching away his hammer and 
 tumbling his lapstone on to the floor, " I move at this 
 ere meetin du a journ afore it gits so mad at it up an 
 kills that ere dum ed tarnallyin Canuck 1 An I secont 
 \he motion an it s kerried unamous." 
 
 " Du you ra-ly spose," the questioner whispered in 
 Joseph Hill s ear as they went out into the moonlight, 
 " at Antwine was a-lyiii ?"
 
 XVII. 
 
 IN THE SUGAR CAMP. 
 
 THE first warm days of spring had come, when for all 
 the chill of the frosty nights, the sky and the white clouds 
 drifting across it looked soft and hazy as in summer. The 
 voice of the crow had become a familiar sound again ; the 
 first robin had been reported ; more than one bluebird had 
 sung its short sweet song in the valley ; and Lisha had 
 seen a phebe perched on a dry sunflower stalk in his gar 
 den, and making thence her unerring swoops upon the flies 
 that, thawed to life again, buzzed about the sunny side of 
 the fence. The snow was deep in the woods yet, but it 
 had grown coarse-grained, and all the winter litter of 
 branches and twigs and latest fallen leaves seemed to be 
 upon its surface, and it was gray in patches with myriads 
 of ever-moving snow fleas. In the open whole southward- 
 sloping fields were bare and brown except their borders of 
 drifts, and here and there bits of the road were dry and 
 firm, most pleasant to feet long accustomed to the uncer 
 tain and slippery footing of wintry ways. Here and there 
 at a homestead a man or boy in shirt-sleeves was working 
 up the great pile of sled, length wood into fuel, but most 
 of the " men folks" were away in the sap works gathering 
 their great harvest of the year. 
 
 Among the tall maples that grew on some hillside of 
 every farm the smoke of the sugar camp drifted upward,
 
 150 UNCLE L/SffA S SHOP. 
 
 and the daily and nightly labors there of all Lisha s friends 
 had for some time prevented their customary visits to the 
 shop. Lisha having, as he said, got tew ol an short- 
 winded tu waller raound in the snow, an never could 
 git the heng o snow-shoein , had hired Pelatiah to do 
 his sugar-making, while he attended to his shoemaking and 
 mending. But getting very lonely with his solitary labors, 
 during a slack run of sap he sent his henchman out among 
 his friends with a verbal " invite" to a sugaring-off at his 
 camp on a certain evening. Accordingly at " airly candle- 
 ligh in / the guests came straggling in, and were loudly 
 and warmly welcomed by their host. " I m dreffle glad 
 tu see ye, boys ! I hain t sot eyes on ye fer a month o* 
 Sundays, seems ough. Make yerselves tu hum, an I ll 
 sweeten ye up tu rights." The little open-fronted shanty 
 faced a rude fireplace, a low wall of rough stones enclosing 
 on three sides a square yard wherein burned a rousing fire 
 that shed a comfortable warmth into the farthest corner of 
 the shanty, and lighted up the trees for rods about. To 
 one side stood the store trough, a huge log hollowed 
 out to hold the sap as gathered. The great potash kettle 
 slung by a log-chain to its monstrous crane, a tree trunk 
 balanced on a stump, was swung off the fire, and the syrup 
 was bubbling in a smaller kettle, carefully tended by Lisha 
 and Pelatiah. 
 
 " Wai, boys," the old man said, after testing the syrup 
 for the twentieth time by pouring it slowly out of his dip 
 per, " it begins tu luther-ap n, an I guess it s baout 
 ready. Peltier, you put aout an git tew three buckets o 
 clean snow ; Samwill, ketch a holt o that ere stick an 
 help me histe this ere kittle off. Naow, then, fetch up 
 some seats, the is sap tubs nough layin raound. Sam-
 
 UNCLE LISHA S SHOP. 151 
 
 will, Jozeff, Solon, some o ye, the s a baskit of biscuit 
 in back there under my cut, an a bowl o pickles ; won t 
 ye jes fetch em aout?" 
 
 So bustling about, he at last got his guests seated around 
 the kettle of hot sugar and the buckets of snow, and they 
 fell to, each in turn dipping out some syrup, and pouring 
 it in dabs upon the snow, when it presently cooled into 
 waxy clots ready for eating. 
 
 " Pass raound them ere biscuits, Peltier ta keer, 
 don t tip the kittle over wi yer dum ed hommils ! Mos 
 s good f s wild honey, hain t it, Samwill ?" Lisha asked, 
 smacking his lips after disposing of a big mouthful. 
 
 " I d know but what it s jist as good t eat," said Sam, 
 " but the hain t much fun a-gittin on it." 
 
 " Naow, du you r aly think the is much fun in bee- 
 kuntin , Samwill ?" Lisha asked. 
 
 " Sartinly I du. Tain t so excitin as fox-huntin* an 
 Bech, but it takes a feller hit the woods in a pleasant time 
 o year, an it s interestin seein the bees a-workin an 
 seein haow clust you c n line em and cross-line em, an 
 a feller s got tu hev some gumption, an wal, I d a good 
 deal druther hunt bees an tu lug sap." 
 
 " By gol ! so Id I," said Pelatiah. " My shoulders is 
 nigh abaout numb kerryin the gosh darned ol neck- 
 yoke." 
 
 " It mus be tough on that ere lame shoulder o yourn, 
 Peltier," Joe Hill remarked, withholding a paddleful of 
 sugar from his open jaws, while he bestowed a general wink 
 upon the party. 
 
 " Honh ! I hain t got no lame shoulder in p tic lar 
 not naow, I hain t." 
 
 " Wal naow, boys," Lisha said, after all had plied their
 
 ij* UNCLE LISHA S SHOP. 
 
 paddles silently but diligently for some time, " this is 
 what I call bein kinder sosherble agin. Tain t quite so 
 cosey as the shop, but we ve got all aou doors for room." 
 
 " Not inside on us, we hain t leastways I hain t" 
 said Joe Hill ; " this ere maple sweet is tumble fillin ." 
 
 " Take a pickle if y r cl yed, Jozeff, an begin agin," 
 Lisha urged, on hospitable deeds intent, but Joe declined, 
 and soon all but Pelatiah desisted and tossed into the fire 
 the little wooden paddles which had served as spoons. 
 
 " This is what I call raal comfort," said Sam Lovel, 
 after lighting his pipe with a coal and stretching himself 
 on the evergreen twigs in the shanty. "The hain t 
 nothin like an aou door fire an a shanty like this an a 
 bed o browse fer raal genywine restin comfort !" 
 
 " Wai, it hain t bad for onct n a while in pleasant 
 weather ; but fer a steady thing, I d a leetle druther hev a 
 good ruff over my head, an plarstered walls raound me, 
 an a fireplace or a stove," said Lisha, and then to avoid 
 unprofitable discussion " Samwill, I s pose ye don t git 
 much huntin naowadays. Tew late fer huntin foxes 
 an* tew much bare graound fer trackin coons. Git a 
 patridge onct n a while, though, I s pose, don t ye ?" 
 
 "No, sir," said Sam, with emphasis; " haint t shot a 
 patridge in a month. I want the should be some next 
 year. I killed a fisher, though, t other day." 
 
 "I wanter know! Shoot him? Tain t often t a 
 feller gits a chance tu shoot one o them critters. Awfle 
 hard tu git a shot at, they be, I s pose ? 
 
 " Yes, and hard tu kill when ye du git a shot at em. 
 Drive treed this one, an he went a-skivin through the 
 tree-tops baout as spry s a squirrel. I let im hev it on 
 the run hed in buckshot an three Bs an disenabled
 
 UNCLE LISHA S SHOP. 153 
 
 him so s t he couldn t jump ; but I hed tu shoot him 
 twict more fore he come daown, an then hommered his 
 head a spell fore he d quit a-kickin . Then I tied his 
 hind laigs together an slung him on my back an started 
 fer hum." 
 
 " Wha d ye wanter lug his carkiss for ? Why didn t ye 
 skin im ?" 
 
 "Oh ! I ah," said Sam, stammering and blushing, 
 " I wanted tu show him tu tu some o my folks at 
 hedn t never seen the hull critter ; nothin but the skins." 
 
 " H-m. Some o my folkses names begins with 
 H-u-1 d-y P-u-r " 
 
 N si was a-tellin on ye," Sam broke in hurriedly, 
 " I hed him on my shoulder slung ont my gun berril, an 
 hed kerried him much s half a mild, an goin long 
 through some little thick secont growth, suthin ketched 
 an most pulled the gun off m my shotolder, and I ll be 
 shot if "t wa n t that ere cussed fisher come tu agin an 
 ketchin holt of a saplin wi one of his fore paws 1" 
 
 " Wai, I say fer t, " said Solon, " be they so termina- 
 tious o life as that ?" 
 
 " What for you ant tole him he dead, Sam ? Dat all 
 what was de matter wid it, he ant know when he dead ! 
 
 " Wai, I hed tu go tu work an kill him agin, an then 
 I made aout tu git him hum thaout any more of his 
 fluruppin raound. " 
 
 " I hain t never hed no chance o studdyin the nat ral 
 hist ry on "em," Solon observed, "but from what I ve 
 larnt oraclar, I jedge the name of fisher an black cat 
 don t no ways imply tu em. They don t ketch fish, an 
 consequentially they hain t fishers, an though they be tol- 
 1 able black, they don t resemblance the cat speshy no
 
 154 UNCLE LISHA S SHOP. 
 
 more n nothin in the world. Hain t I right, Sammy- 
 well ?" 
 
 " Sartinly you be," said Sam. " They don t never 
 ketch fish as I knows on as mink an auter does, but 
 lives on squirrels an mice an birds an rabbits, an stealin 
 bait aouten saple traps ; they re the beaters fer that. An 
 excep fer their handiness in climbin an their hardness in 
 dyin the* hain t no cat abaout em. They re a over- 
 growed weasel or saple. 
 
 " They re putty scase nowerdays, " Lisha said, " do 
 know s they ever was plenty. Saple s gittin scase tew, 
 but twenty, thirty year ago they was thicker n spatter. 
 A man at onderstood it c Id make his dollar a day easy 
 trappin* on em. Ol Uncle Steve Hamlin uster hev his 
 lines o saple traps sot fer milds through the woods every 
 fall, clear n tu the foot o the Hump sometimes. Every 
 little ways he d hev a steel trap sot fer fisher that come 
 along stealin the bait aouten his deadfalls, an he d git 
 consid able many on em every year. But game s a-git- 
 tin scaser n scaser. Samwill," he resumed, after some 
 moments of meditative smoking, " if I luffted tu hunt an 
 fish as well as you du, I d go daown tu the lake some fall 
 long baout the fust o September, tu Leetle Auter Crik, an 
 hunt ducks an ketch pick ril. " 
 
 " I s pose it s a tumble place for ducks," Sam said. 
 
 " Ducks !" cried Lisha ; " good airth an seas ! I sh ld 
 think it was ! Why, when I uster be daown that way a-whip- 
 pin the cat an I was a consid arble sight ten year ago 
 they was thicker in the ma shes wild oats grows there, ye 
 know thicker in the fall n ever ye seen skeeters in a 
 swamp in July. An the s Gret Auter an Dead Crik jes 
 as full ! The s a lawyer daown there name o Pairpint
 
 UNCLE LISHA S SHOP. 155 
 
 uster go a-shootin on em, with a feller tu paddle his boat, 
 n he d git a heapin bushil baskit full on em in a day ! 
 N they said t he shot all on em a-flyin ! Never shot 
 none on em a-sittin !" 
 
 " Like anough," Sam assented ; "I ve hearn tell o folks 
 at shot patridges a-flyin , but I never was bleeged tu. I 
 c ld allersgit shots at em a-sittin ." 
 
 " An pickril !" continued Lisha, " I never seen the beat 
 on em. I uster go trollin arter em wi* some on em, 
 n we d hev each on us a big hook with a pork rind an a 
 piece o red flannel on t fer bait, an a toll able long line 
 an a short pole, n we d paddle long kinder easy on 
 the aidge o the channel, an I tell ye we d yarn em aout ! 
 Ol sollakers, tew ; four, five, six paounds, an one t I 
 seen weighed ten paound n a half." 
 
 " By gol !" exclaimed Pelatiah, wide-eyed and wide- 
 mouthed with wonder, " ten paoun an a half? He must 
 ha ben mos s big as one o them ere whale fish t they 
 git lamp ile aouten on !" 
 
 " An mushrats," said Lisha, continuing the relation 
 of the wonders of the lowlands, " I ve seen their haousen 
 on the ma shes in fall an winter thick as ever ye seen hay 
 cocks in a medder, most, an hundreds of acres o ma sh 
 with em sot jes so thick. The was Benham an mongst 
 em uster git as high as three hundred mushrat apiece, 
 most every spring. These ere teamsters at hauls ore up 
 here tu the forge says at ducks an mushrat an fish is jes 
 as thick there naow. That ould be the place fer ye, 
 Sam will ! Ducks an fish fer fun, an mushrat fer 
 profit 
 
 " Probly dey bullpawt an eel dah, ant it, One Lasha ? 
 Ah wish Ah be dah too, me !
 
 156 UNCLE LISffA S SHOP. 
 
 " Eels ! I guess the is. Why, Ann Twine, you c ld 
 ketch as many o the dum d snakes in a night as you c ld 
 eat the nex day, an that s a-puttin on it high. Yes, 
 an the s pike an bass, an a gret fish at s got a bill like 
 a shellduck, on y longer, but they hain t good fernothin . 
 An the s sheepheads an shad, n more pa ch an 
 punkinseeds n you could shake a stick at in a fortnight, 
 but nobody don t make no caount o them, on y boys 
 fer the fun o ketchin on em. An the s bowfins an 
 suckers n I d know what all. They hes gret times a- 
 shootin pickril airly in the spring, an a-spearin on em, 
 tew." 
 
 " Wai, sah, One Lasha, Ah can shoot it dat moosrat 
 wid spear in winter w en he ll live inhaouse." 
 
 " Ketch mushrat with a spear ! Oh, naow you go tu 
 grass, Ann Twine. You d ort tu hed a spear tu git them 
 ere coons." 
 
 " You ant b lieve it dat ? You as Injin if he ant git it 
 moosrat dat way. Bah gosh ! Yas ! W en ice all be 
 frozed up, have it spear gat on y but one laig baout so 
 long as two foot, ver" sharp, wid toof on him an woodle 
 handlin tree foot, four foot prob ly long. Den walk 
 slow, slow, ant mak it no nowse, to moosrat haouse. 
 Den push him dat spear in quick ! hard ! raght in middly 
 of it You feel it spear shake, you gat dat moosrat, mebby 
 one of it, two of it, sometam three of it, prob ly. Den 
 chawp in wid axe, tek it off, go nudder one jus de same. 
 Sometam git feefty, seexty all day." 
 
 "Wai, I do know but what ye hain t a-lyin fer onct, 
 Ann Twine ; it saounds kinder reas nable. You want 
 tu git ye thirty forty traps, Samwill, an go daown there 
 with Ann Twine an his spear. Then ye d hev a French
 
 UNCLE LISHA S SHOP. 157 
 
 cook an live high duck, pea soup, an roast mushrat 
 three times a day." 
 
 " Bah gosh ! One Lasha, you ant steek you nose up 
 dat moosrat ! He pooty good for eat, Ah tole you !" 
 
 " Yes, yes ; anybody t eats snakes needn t spleen agin 
 rats, sartin." 
 
 " Oh, One Lasha," said the Canadian reproachfully, 
 " eel don t snake, more as you was mud turkey." 
 
 " If I hed me a boat an traps anough, " Sam said, 
 after some silent and thoughtful smoking, "I d jes like 
 tu go daown there a-trappin* an huntin an fishin . An 
 then, arter I got a good shanty built, an well tu goin , 
 hev all on ye come daown a-visitin ." 
 
 " You jes du it an see f we don t, hey, boys ?" And 
 there was general assent. " Yes, Sam will, we ll tackle up 
 a two-hoss waggin an all go. We ll go tuckernuck, kerry 
 aour own pervision ; on y mushrat an fish we ll expeck 
 you tu furnish, Sam will. Wai," Lisha continued, hoist 
 ing out his porringer of a watch and consulting it by the 
 waning firelight, " it s a-gittin late. Why, good airth 
 an seas ! if t ain t mos nine o clock ! Peltier, f you ve 
 got that ere kittle licked aout, you c n slick up a little 
 raound, an we ll go hum. No need o bilin tu-night, the 
 hain t sap nough in the store trough tu draound a chip 
 munk. Git the baskit an Jurushy s bowl an come 
 along." 
 
 Then they filed out of the sugar camp on their home 
 ward way, while far above them in the black growth of the 
 mountain-side the hoot of an owl and the gasping bark of 
 a fox voiced the solemnity and wildness of the ancient 
 woods.
 
 XVIII. 
 
 INDIANS IN DANVIS. 
 
 IT was fairly spring ; almost summer as the months go. 
 Some patches and jagged lines of snow yet gleamed among 
 the black growth on the northward steeps and in the gullies 
 of the mountains, but the lower deciduous trees were in a 
 green mist of young leaves, the woodside shade was dap 
 pled with the white moose- flowers, and the grass was green 
 in the valley fields. The evenings had grown so short 
 that to make anything of a visit before bedtime, Lisha s 
 friends were obliged to come while daylight lasted. By 
 that light, when the hylas were beginning to ring their 
 shrill curfew, the old man was mitigating some customer s 
 prospective torture by rasping the pegs on the inside of a 
 boot, but to see the contortions of his face, turned aside as 
 he bent over his hidden field of labor, one would think 
 that he was inflicting self-torture, and that every scrape of 
 the float was tearing the shoemaker s own tough hide. 
 He made such a noise with his rasping that he first became 
 aware of visitors when the forms of Joe Hill and Antoine 
 darkened the open doorway. Then came Pelatiah and 
 the Questioner, followed by Solon Briggs, and last of all 
 Sam Lovel came across lots from Beaver Meadow Brook, 
 bringing a dozen fine trout strung upon a birchen twig. 
 
 "Wai, Samwill, ben a-traoutin , hey?" said Lisha, 
 emptying the scrapings out of the boot, and making an
 
 UNCLE LISHA S SHOP. 159 
 
 examination of the interior with his hand while he looked 
 admiringly on the handsome fish. " Wai, they re neat 
 ones, I swan ! Ketched em in Beav Medder Brook, did 
 ye ? Yes, Sam caught them there. Wai, they du say 
 t fishin* s oncommon good this year ; most everybody t 
 goes gits a good string on em. Oh, dear me suz ! n I 
 hain t ben yit, nor tasted no fish but salt ones sen last 
 summer." 
 
 " Bah gosh ! Ah wish Ah ketch some bullpout or eel, 
 hose of it, Ah don care which, me," cried Antoine. 
 
 "Wai, Uncle Lisher, you sha n t say that tu-morrer 
 night," said Sam, seating himself on the cold stove and 
 filling his pipe, " fer I m goin" tu take these in tu Aunt 
 Jerushy, an you c n hev your sheer on em fer breakfus . 
 Ben tu supper, I s pose ? 
 
 " Why, Samwill, I m a thaousan times bleeged tu ye, 
 but you d orter keep half on em. You re a-robbin yer- 
 self." 
 
 No, Sam was " cl yed wi traout, an" ketched these a 
 puppus fer Aunt Jerushy n you." 
 
 " Wai, thank ye a thaousan times. Yes, I ben tu sup 
 per. I was makin gardin tu-day, an the smell o the 
 airth made me hungrier n a bear, so Jerushy got supper 
 airly. 
 
 ;t Yes, Lisher," Solon remarked, " for a pusson of your 
 sedimentary ockypations the hain t nothin more benefi- 
 cient an a-gittin aou door ;" and then, turning to Sam, 
 " Did ye ever ketch traout with a fly, Sammywell ?" 
 
 " No, I didn t never, but I hev wi bumble-bees." 
 
 "Not a ra-al fly I don t mean," Solon explained. 
 " That ere artist feller t was raound here summer fore 
 last boarded to Joel Bartlett s a spell, n fixed up
 
 160 UNCLE LISHA S SHOP. 
 
 a paintin shop in his barn stewed Joe, he called it 
 he uster go traoutiri with a whipstock of a pole at took 
 tu pieces, an hed a little brass windlass onto it tu wind 
 up his line, an a mess o feathers stuck on a hook for 
 bait, at he called a arterfishual fly. He d skitter it top 
 of the water, an onct in a while the d be a traout fool 
 nough tu grab it. Then he d wind im up, an then 
 he d let im scoot, n then wind im up agin, an so 
 continner on till he got im all fattygued aouL 
 
 " Oh, yes, I seen im at it !" said Sam. " I went 
 a-fishin with im tew three times. N he was toll able 
 lucky, tew ; ketched half as many s I did. He d tost 
 them little feather contraptions turrible handy when the 
 brush wa n t tew thick. I sh Id like tu try it if I hed the rig. 
 He hed a hull wallet full on em, all on em named, 
 green ducks, an hatchels, an Id know what all. It 
 uster tickle me tu see him when he come tu a still pond 
 hole, or a place where the brook tumbled over the rocks, 
 or suthin n uther the liked the looks on. He d lay 
 daown his pole, an back off, an get fust one side o the 
 brook an then t other, or like nough on a stun right in 
 the middle on t, an then aout with a lead-pencil an a 
 little blank caount book like, n begin tu draw it off. 
 He d squint an mark an whistle an mark a spell, n 
 then intu his pocket with book an pencil an go tu fishin 
 agin. A clever little creetur he was, an took lots o com 
 fort bein in the woods, an a-fishin . He tol me at they 
 ketched gret big salmon up Canady way wi them feather 
 flies." 
 
 " Bah gosh !" cried Antoine, pricking up his ears at 
 the mention of his native province. Yas, Ah 11 see 
 Anglish officy ketch dat so ! Oh, big, big, big !"
 
 UNCLE LISHA S SHOP. 161 
 
 " Oh, yes, sartinly," said Lisha, as he tied the straps of 
 the completed boots together with a thong of leather, " I 
 xpected you hed. Seen em ketched t ould weigh a 
 hunderd paound, hain t ye, Ann Twine?" 
 
 " Wai, sah, One Lasha, not quat so big dat. Ah don 
 goin tol lie f you want it Ah do. De bigges one Ah ll 
 see ketch dat way he ll weigh jes zackly nanty-nan paoun 
 an fiftin ninches, dat s all." 
 
 " Hmph ! A minny, wa n t he ?" said Lisha. " Wai, 
 we re gittin all of a color, white folks an Canucks, n I 
 guess we d better hev a light," whereupon he lit the 
 candle, which sputtered for some minutes before it made 
 itself visible in the twilight. 
 
 " Wai, folks," said Sam, breaking the silence that pre 
 vailed while the company watched the struggles of the 
 feeble light, " the s suthin in these woods at I never 
 seen in em afore." 
 
 "Why, what on airth is it, Samwill ?" Lisha asked. 
 " Tain t a wolf, cause you seen one time o* the big 
 hunt four year ago. Tain t a painter ?" 
 
 " No, tain t a wolf nor a painter I seen both n 
 tain t no four-legged critter it s Injins !" 
 
 " Good airth an seas, you don t say so !" cried Lisha ; 
 " hev ye got the skelps in yer pockit, Samwill ?" 
 
 " No," said Sam, laughing ; " they ve got em on their 
 heads, an hats a top on em, tew, for they hain t wild ones, 
 but c n talk English as well as Antwine here, but not ekal 
 to Solon quite. Raal clever, candid sort o fellers they be, 
 an c nsid able sosherble arter you git quainted with 
 em." 
 
 " Haow many on em be they ? A hull tribe on em ? 
 He onet an she one*, an poppooses on boards ? Where
 
 162 UNCLE LISHA S SHOP. 
 
 be they, an what they drivin at ?" So Lisha strung out his 
 questions without waiting for an answer till he finished 
 with the demand, " Tell us all baout "em." 
 
 " Wai," said Sam, " tu begin t the beginnin , I was 
 fishin Beav Medder Brook t other day an come acrost 
 a mockersin track in the sand, n thinks says I to myself, 
 Antwine s a-fishin ahead on me, n then thinks says I, 
 he don t wear em sen he got tu be sech a Yankee ; n a 
 little furder long I seen tracks o tew wearin mockersins, 
 an* putty soon I smelt smoke, an then come slap on tu 
 tew dark-complected fellers settin by a fire a-smokin an 
 watchin a woo chuck roastin on a stick stuck through 
 endways an int the graound, an behind of em was a 
 gret roll o suthin t I thought fust sight was luther, n t 
 they d ben a-stealin from you, er less was goin to give ye 
 a job. Then I seen t was birch bark. I says haow de 
 du, n so d they, but they didn t talk none till I sod- 
 daown an loaded my pipe an giv em some terbarker. 
 Then one on em says, Ketch um plenty fish, lookin at 
 my string, an twas a putty good un, n I gin em a 
 dozen tu piece aout their supper. Then they begin tu git 
 toll able sosherble, an we hed quite a visit." 
 
 11 Wai, I ll be dum d ! Samwill Lovel visitin long 
 with Injins !" cried Lisha, holding up his hands. 
 
 " Wai, he was," said Sam, " an got c nsid able thick 
 with em, n I don t deny it. They said haow t they d 
 come clearn up from Gret Auter Crik on tu Hawg s Back 
 tu git bark at suited em tu make a canew, an was goin 
 right back nex day. I wanted turribly tu see em make 
 a canew, n tried tu coax em to du it here, n I d git 
 some o the teamsters tu kerry it daown tu Vergeens for 
 em when they was goin . But they thought their fam-
 
 UNCLE LISHA S SHOP. 163 
 
 lies at was camped daown there would be wonderin if 
 they stayed away so long. I tol em t we d send word 
 by the teamsters tu their folks, n it come inter my head 
 what you was tellin baout huntin an trappin daown 
 there, n t this was a gret chance fer me tu git a boat 
 made. So I dickered with em tu make me a canew, an 
 they talked an talked together I tell ye, their n s the 
 language tu talk in the woods. It don t make no more 
 noise n a little brook a-runnin , n I don t b lieve t 
 ould skeer a fox. Wai, fin ly they greed tu, an nex 
 day they went at my canew. 
 
 " Shaw !" said Lisha. " Why, Samwill, them Injin 
 canews is tottlisher n a board sot up aidgeways ! You 
 can t du nothin in one on em, only tip over. You 
 hain t uster no kinder boat, say nothin baout them aig- 
 shell consarns. D ye ever see one? I hev, but never 
 ondertook ridin one on "em." 
 
 " No, I never did, but I m goin tu in a few days. I 
 guess I c n navvygate it. I ve crossed the Notch Pond 
 stan in up on a saw lawg with my gun, more n onct, n 
 I guess a canew hain t much tottlisher n a rollin lawg. 
 Wai, I ve hed a good time watchin on em make it fer 
 three days, n I tell ye it s curous tu see em. Furst 
 thing they made a frame the len th an shape the canew s 
 goin tu be on top jes tew strips of ash fastened together 
 tu the ends, an bars acrost, so" illustrating his descrip 
 tion with a diagram drawn on the floor with a bit of coal 
 while all gathered about him. " Then they laid it daown 
 on a level place they d fixed an drove stakes clus tu it 
 agin the ends o the cross-bars all raound, an one tu 
 each end o the frame. Then they pulled up the stakes 
 an" took the frame away, keepin the stake-holes clear o
 
 1 64 UNCLE LfSHA S SHOP. 
 
 dirt very car f l, an spread the bark daown on the place, 
 an then sot the frame back on jes ezackly where it was 
 afore, an put some cedar strips on t, an big stuns top 
 o them. Then they slit the bark from the aidge up tu 
 the frame every onct in a little ways, so, all raound, an 
 bent up the bark an sot the stakes back in the holes, an* 
 tied a bark cord acrost from top to top. Then they sewed 
 up the slits, lappin the bark over, ye see, an sewin it 
 wi black spruce ruts peeled an split in tew, n they re 
 jest as tough as rawhide ; luther-wood bark hain t no 
 tougher. That s as fur as they ve got yit, but nex thing, 
 s nigh s I c n make aout, they cal late tu raise the frame 
 tu the top an put some raves on aoutside and fasten em 
 together an then line the hull consarn wi flat strips o 
 cedar drove in tight. N then when they git the seams 
 all daubed wi spruce gum an taller melted together it ll 
 be all ready fer me tu " " tip over," said Lisha, com 
 pleting the sentence for him. 
 
 " Waal, now, I guess not," Sam drawled, " but baout 
 the fust o nex week you c n all come over tu the Forge 
 Pond an see." 
 
 " Wai, sah, Sam, Ah tol you," said Antoine, " you 
 wan git good big lawg, an Ah 11 mek it you a canoe was 
 good for sometings, me. Dat was damn sight gre deal 
 better for you as dat negg-shell Injin mek it. " 
 
 Lisha snorted a contemptuous " Hmph ! T would be a 
 putty-lookin thing, Ann Twine. Guess t "ould look s 
 much like a stun boat s anything. But t ould becomp ny 
 for ye, Samwill, fer I ha no daoubt t ould laugh and talk." 
 
 " Wai, sah, he look lak stun boat, he look goo deal 
 lak de boot you mek it, One Lasha. Den prob ly you 
 call it ver han some, don t it?"
 
 UNCLE LISHA S SHOP. 165 
 
 " Oh, shet up, you " cried Lisha, shaking his ham 
 mer at the grinning Canadian. " I could make a gre t 
 sight better boat aouten luther n you can aouten wood, 
 I ll bate ye. I ve hearn tell t the Injins way aout West 
 makes boats aouten luther, er bufflo hides anyway." 
 
 " Uncle Lisher, " said Joe Hill suddenly, " is the any 
 thing o this story t I hearn em talkin over t the store 
 t other day ? Lemme see, was t Wednesday or Thursday 
 las week, or was t Friday ? Yes, twas Friday, I know, 
 cause M ri sent by me fer a codfish, an they hedn t got 
 none, n so we didn t hev none ier dinner Sat day, n 
 hed t eat traout. Wai, they was tellin , some on em, 
 haow tyou was a-talkin o sellin aout n goin* t the 
 Hio." 
 
 " Hey ? cried Lisha, giving a great start. " Oh, sho 1 
 Ye can t tell nothin by what ye hear over tu that ere 
 dum d store. When they hain t talkin baout hosses, n 
 when they be, they re a-lyin an gossipin wus n a 
 passel o* women tu a quiltin ." 
 
 "One Lasha, if you goin on Hio, Ah wan you 
 show me de way Ah 11 fin dat Conchety Pint you tol 
 me good whal go. Ah 11 wan go dar den." 
 
 " When yer time comes you ll go there, Ann Twine, 
 thaout me showin , jest the same as spirits finds their way 
 tu heaven an t other place. Say, Samwill, where d ye 
 keep yer Injin show ? Der ye low anybody tu see it ?" 
 
 " Oh, yes," said Sam, "you c n see m fer nothin ; 
 but I wouldn t go all tu onct, if I was you fellers. I kinder 
 guess they don t like bein gawped at no better n we du. 
 They re camped daown on Beav Medder Brook, a little 
 ways bove the swamp. They re a-makin a few baskits, 
 an bow-arrers fer boys, evenin s, an most likely they ll be
 
 1 66 UNCLE LISHA S SHOP. 
 
 raound peddlin on em fore long." Then, going over 
 to light his pipe at the candle, he whispered, " I ll come 
 over in the mornin , an you n I ll go an see em, if 
 you re a min tu." Then aloud, "Wai, boys, I m 
 a-goin hum. Any on ye wanter ride long wi me ?" 
 
 Sam s invitation was at once accepted by all the visitors, 
 who departed with him, each riding as he did, " shanks 
 horses ; and the shop was left in darkness again.
 
 XIX. 
 
 THE BOY OUT WEST. 
 
 THE prophet of the almanac had written along the June 
 calendar, "Now, perhaps, a spell of weather," and his 
 prognostication was being verified. For two days the rain 
 had come down from the leaden sky, now in drenching 
 showers, now in drizzles slanting to the earth before the 
 gusty north-east wind, and still it came down. A robin 
 in the apple-tree where his mate shingled their nest with 
 her half-spread wings only left off " singing for rain" to 
 preen his wet feathers, and then began again his broken 
 song, cheerful enough but for its import to seem unsuited 
 to its accompaniment, the splash of the rain, the doleful 
 sighing of the wind, and the sullen roar of the swollen 
 streams. The beaten-down blossoms that whitened the 
 ground beneath the apple-trees, as if an unseasonable 
 flurry of snow had fallen there, looked unlike blossoms 
 now, but added another dreary feature to the dreary land 
 scape ; the little brown house, without light or shadow on 
 its walls ; the dripping, wind-swayed trees ; the sodden 
 fields and woods ghostly behind the gray veil of rain, 
 bounded by the blurred, flat wall of mountains, and roofed 
 by the low sky. 
 
 When some of Lisha s friends, troubled by a vague 
 rumor that had floated about the valley, visited the shop 
 that day, they found it as cheerless inside as out, chilly,
 
 1 68 UNCLE LISHA S SHOP, 
 
 damp, and fireless, and unoccupied by its owner, whose 
 apron lay upon the shoe-bench. Sam Lovel seated him 
 self there, and when presently Lisha entered from the 
 " house part," and he arose to give him his accustomed 
 seat, the old man said, " Keep your settin , Samwill ; I 
 hain t workin none tu-day," and after pottering in an 
 aimless way among his stock and tools, set about lighting 
 a fire. After repeated clearing of his throat, wherein the 
 words seemed to stick, he said as he whittled the kindling, 
 " Wai, boys, where ye goin tu loaf evenin s next winter ?" 
 
 " Why, right here, of course, Uncle Lisher," said Sam ; 
 " you hain t goin tu turn us aout door, be ye ?" 
 
 "No, I hain t a-goin tu turn you aou door; I m 
 a-goin tu turn myself aou door. The fact o the business 
 is, Jerushy n I has baout made up aour minds tu go 
 aout West an live long wi George." 
 
 Wai, we heard some such talk, Sam said, but we 
 iidn t scasely b lievethe was nothin on it only talk, the s 
 so much dum d foolish gab a-goin nowerdays. An ," he 
 added, " I hain t heard none at saounded foolisher n 
 this, tu me. 
 
 "Wai, naow, ye see," said Lisha, shutting the stove 
 door, and after watching the fire a minute seating himself 
 upon a sap tub, " me n my ol woman s a-gettin ol n 
 ont the daown hill-side, n t won t be many year fore 
 we can t du nothin scasely on y set raound, n we hain t 
 got nob dy tu ta keer on us then on y aour boy. He s 
 sol aout in the Hio, an is goin tu Westconstant tu live, 
 a gret ways furder n the Hio, tew, three States beyund 
 it, I b lieve. Tain t a State yit, I guess Westconstant 
 hain t, but on y a terry-tory. Seems ough we couldn t 
 stan it tu hev him no furder off n what he is naow, an
 
 UNCLE LI SNA S SHOP. 169 
 
 8O, ye see, we ve c ncluded tu go an live long wi him. 
 He s ben a-teasin on us tu this ever so long, but I kinder 
 hated tu, for I m sorter growed in here, n I hate tu 
 naow, but I guess it s the best way." 
 
 "Wai, I guess tain t," said Sam, very decidedly. 
 " You hev growed in, both on ye, an* it ll be julluk 
 pullin up tew ol trees an settin on em aout agin, n 
 ye won t stan it no better. No, Uncle Lisher, not a mite 
 better n tew hemlocks took up an sot aout. It ll be a 
 diff ent s il o land for ye, diff ent breed o neighbors f 
 ye hev any n they say t that ere western country s 
 flatter n a pancake, thaout a maountin er a big hill tu be 
 seen, so s t it tires a feller s eyesight clean aout a-trav lin 
 so fur thaout nothin tu stop it. An no woods like 
 aourn, they say. Haow long ye think ye can stan it 
 thaout the smell o spruce in yer nose, er thaout 
 seein the ol Hump er Tater Hill, er so much as little 
 Hawg s Back er even Pig s Back a-stan in up agin the 
 sky ?" 
 
 " Yas, sah, One Lasha, dat so," Antoine put in. 
 " You was be so lonesick you come dead raght off, bose 
 of it, An Jerrushy, too, you see f he ant !" 
 
 "An if ye don t die," Sam continued, "the dum d 
 Injins 11 kill ye." 
 
 " Sho !" said Lisha, smiling grimly at Sam. " You re 
 a putty feller, a-talkin baout dum d Injins arter bein 
 thicker n puddin with em for a fortni t, n they riggin 
 on ye aout wi a canew t you c n nawygate s a mushrat 
 can his own body. Naow, r aly, Samwill, " he went on, 
 hoping to change the subject, " when I seen ye gittin 
 into t over there t the Forge Pond, I didn t expect 
 nothin on y tu see ye git a duckin , n f I hedn t a-
 
 170 UNCLE LISHA S SHOP. 
 
 knowed ye c Id swim like a duck, I wouldn t ha let ye 
 git int the dum d crazy thing." 
 
 "Oh, wal, " said Sam, impatiently, "my Injins is 
 tame. I guess t you ll find aout t them painted, turkey- 
 feathered cusses aout West is a diff ent breed o cats, with 
 their war-whoopin an screechin , an skelpin ol folks 
 an babies, n the Lord knows what the devil s own work 
 they hain t up tu." 
 
 " Sammywell s argyments is good," said Solon Briggs. 
 " The hain t nothin more sartiner n that old, ann-cient 
 indyviddywills hed ort tu continner tu remain in the 
 natyve land at they was borned in." 
 
 " Good airth an seas !" the old man roared, after list 
 ening with ill-concealed impatience, " what s the use o 
 yer talkin ? I tell ye I m a-goin f I don t live a week 
 arter I git there ! Hain t I tougher n a ellum gnurl ? 
 Hain t I fit your Injins gran thers tu Plattsburg ? I c n 
 stan the rackit, I guess ! I c n fight Injins agin, I 
 guess ! H mph ! ye talk s if I was a ten-ye r-ol boy er 
 a skeery little gal !" And then lowering his voice to a 
 kindlier tone, " I hate tu go, s I said afore. I allus 
 luffted tu hev my neighbors raound me, n I ve hed 
 good uns, an got em yit, an I hate dreffly tu leave em, 
 n hate tu leave the ol place n everything. But blood s 
 thicker n water, n I wanter see my boy, the on y chick 
 er child his mother n I s got, n eend my days wi him. 
 An his mother y arns arter him more n I du, an wal, 
 we re a-goin , an the ha no tew ways baout it, ner no 
 use a-talkin . I ve ol aout tu Joel Bartlett, an we ve 
 drawed writin s an that s the long an short on t. " 
 
 " Wal," said Sam, " if you re sot on it, n everything 
 s all cut an dried, the hairi t no use a-talkin . But I
 
 UNCLE LISHA S SHOP. 171 
 
 sh ld think t you might ha said suthin tu some on us 
 fore ye went so fur. T would ha ben friendlier. I 
 swear ! I wish t the dum d torment t invented that ere 
 cussed Western country hedn t never ben borned ! 
 A-breakin up fam lies an puttin notions inter ol folks s 
 heads, blast him !" and said no more, but sat staring out 
 at the gloomy landscape that, seen through the green and 
 wrinkled panes of the long window, looked gloomier and 
 more dismal than ever. 
 
 They spoke no more of Lisha s intended departure, and 
 after a few feeble attempts at conversation, sat and smoked 
 in silence till the day grew darker with the coming on of 
 evening, and then the visitors departed.
 
 XX. 
 
 BREAKING UP. 
 
 THOUGH Lisha s friends continued their visits to the 
 shop, the rainy days and the evenings spent there were 
 cheerless and gloomy ever after he declared his intention 
 of deserting it. The forced conversation and feeble at 
 tempts to awaken the old convivial spirit were so much 
 like those at a gathering about the bedside of one with 
 the certain doom of death upon him, that Lisha said, one 
 afternoon, when the sober guests had departed, Wai, 
 mother, I wish t aour fun al was over, an we was in 
 Westconstant I ll be dum d f I hain t baout sick o 1 
 bein a live corpse ! Good airth an seas ! When the 
 boys comes up an sets raound lookin at me so solemn, 
 I can een a most feel the shoemake rhuts a-crawlin 
 raound my bones, s if I was planted up yunder in the 
 ol graveyard. Oh, dear me suz ! I wish t George hed 
 a ben contented tu ha stayed here ! But seein t he 
 wa n t, the don t seem s ough the was no other way 
 only tu go. If little Jerushy d ha lived, n merried 
 some likely feller, as in course she would, we might ha 1 
 stayed an lived long wi her. But it wa n t tu be so. I 
 do know but I feel baout as bad a-goin off an leavin* 
 her layin up there so fur from us s I du baout anything 
 in the hull business. Poor little gal ! She was a-goin 
 tu look julluk you."
 
 UNCLE LISffA S SHOP. 173 
 
 "O father!" said Aunt Jerushy, with a blush man 
 tling the wholesome old-age brown of her kindly face, as 
 she intently scanned her purple-veined and wrinkled 
 hands, " if she was ever tu, I do" know but it s best at 
 she died when she was a baby. 
 
 "Wai, naow, Jerushy Chase, I shouldn t ha wanted 
 her tu looked no better n you did when you was a young 
 womem, nor no better fer an ol womern. Folks hes 
 got tu grow ol f they live long nough, n they can t 
 keep all the looks no more n they can all the feelin s o 
 young folks." 
 
 Uncle Lisha took a roundabout course on his way to 
 the stove to relight his pipe, and stopped behind Aunt 
 Jerusha s chair a moment to caress her gray head. The 
 sensation must have been somewhat as if a mud turtle had 
 crawled and slid over it, but it comforted her sad heart and 
 brought a gleam of the light of youth into her old eyes. 
 When he bent over and shyly kissed her cheek, the long 
 disused endearment brought back old courting days so 
 vividly that she cried, even as she returned it " Why, 
 Lisher Peggs ! Hain t you shamed o yerself?" and 
 then glancing out of the window, " If there hain t Huldy 
 Pur* n t n ! an if she seen ye, haow she will be a-laughin 
 at us !" 
 
 " Good airth an seas !" said Lisha, as in a shame 
 faced flurry he raked a handful of coals onto the hearth, 
 " f she hain t hed bussin nough tu shet her maouth 
 sen she an Sam will made up, I miss my guess ! They ve 
 made up lost time, I bate ye! Walk !" he shouted in 
 response to Huldah s knock, and when she entered Aunt 
 Jerusha s surprise was simulated so well that it would have 
 done credit to a lady of fashion.
 
 174 UNCLE LISHA S SHOP. 
 
 " An so," said Huldah, after the mutual inquiries 
 concerning the respective families had been made and an 
 swered, " you an Uncle Lisher is r ally goin tu pull up 
 stakes an go t the West ? You do know haow I hate 
 tu hev ye. Seems s ough the wa n t nob dy only my 
 own folks at seems so near tu me s what you du !" 
 
 ;< Ta keer, Huldy !" Lisha cried. 
 
 "Wai," said Huldah, blushing as red as the peonies 
 in the posy bed by the doorstep, " I mean wal," with 
 a frank look and a happy little laugh, " I mean ol folks 
 near ! The hain t another place in Danvis where I c n 
 go an hev a raal good sed daown, only jest here ! An , 
 Uncle Lisher, one little word t you said that day at Sis 
 was lost tol me suthin t I didn t know afore, n* t I was 
 feared wa n t so. N naow you re a-goin tu the end 
 o the airth, n I sha n t see ye gin, maybe never !" 
 
 " Wal, naow, Huldy," said Aunt Jerusha, as she ab 
 stractedly rapped her snuff-box and looked nowhere, 
 " like nough me an Lisher won t be c ntented in West- 
 constant, an 11 wanter come back. An f things tarve as 
 I m a-hopesin they will, you an Sam will 11 be settled 
 daown, n mebby you d take us in." 
 
 "An you d be most welcome allers," said Huldah. 
 " Seems s ough," she said, as over and over again she 
 gathered in her fingers and let go the hem of her check 
 ered apron, " at the wa n t nothin much tu hender 
 naow, sence Samwill faound Sis. Father, he was allers 
 kinder set agin him cause he s allers a-huntin an 
 shoolin raound in the woods, but ever sence he hunted 
 tu sech good purpose that day he hain t said not one word 
 agin him. An mother, she hain t never sot much no 
 ways. Seems s ough the wa n t nothin much tu hender
 
 UNCLE LISffA S SHOP. 175 
 
 naow. " And as Huldah looked out of the east window 
 of the kitchen, the hill-tops were glorified by the rays of 
 the setting sun, all the rugged steeps were shining, and the 
 shadowy ravines were hidden from her gaze ; and so the 
 way of life shone before her, smooth and unshadowed in 
 the light of love. 
 
 When Gran ther Hill had berated Lisha and Jerusha to 
 all his heart s content, so obtainable to Joseph and his 
 wife and the hushed bevy of children, as " a pair o ol 
 idjits a-goin off beyund the reach o all God s massies tu 
 the own fun al," he marched down upon them one 
 pleasant day to the tune of " The Road to Boston," do 
 lorous enough for a dead march as whistled through his 
 thin lips, with no supporting ranks of teeth behind them. 
 When he was established in the arm-chair that Jerusha set 
 for him after beating the cushion into inviting softness, 
 he cast a severe and frowning look upon the couple, and 
 demanded, marking each word with a thump of his cane 
 upon the floor," Wai, Lisher, hain t you shamed o yer- 
 self, a-desartin of yer country at your time o life ? I 
 never d ha thought it of a man at hed fout tu Platts- 
 burg battle. But that was in York State. You wouldn t 
 ketch a man at hed fout tu Hubbar to n an Bennin to n 
 leavin Varmaount, at he d fout for! No, sir! Shet 
 yer head, I tell ye !" as Lisha attempted a word in his 
 own defence. " Ye needn t tell me nothin baout 
 George ! He might come back here f he wanted tu live 
 wi ye so bad ! Varmaount s good nough place for any- 
 b dy tu live in a dum d sight tew good for some folks, as 
 me n Ethin, n Seth, n Remember, n mongst us 
 showed some o them ere Ian jobbers ! Dum yer Hios 
 an Westconstants ! West damnations they be, the hull on
 
 1 76 UNCLE LISHA S SHOP. 
 
 em, full o fever n aag an snakes an Injins an all 
 God s cusses ! Ye d better stay an die where ye growed ! 
 I hope ye won t die in a month arter ye git there, but ye 
 will, both on ye ; see f ye don t ! F ye don t shake the 
 skin off n yer bones with the agur, the snakes 11 bite ye, 
 n f the snakes don t bite ye, the Injins 11 skelp ye !" 
 
 " Good airth an seas !" cried Lisha, rubbing his bald 
 pate, " a tarnal sight o satisfaction they d git a-skelpin 
 me. But the hain t no Injins tu hurt there, I tell ye !" 
 
 " Wai, the s nough. The s snakes n fever n 
 aag ; they ll fix yer flint, f ye don t git draownded in that 
 ere canawl, an a turrible disagreeable, nasty place it is 
 tu git draownded in, I s pose. I do wanter hear ye 
 talk ! Ye can t tell me nothin baout it ! I done mj 
 duty, an gin ye fair warnin ," and the old Revolutioner 
 stamped off without listening to a word from them. 
 
 " Wai, I say for J t," said Aunt Jerusha, looking after 
 him, " f he don t een a most make a body skeered o 
 goin !" 
 
 " Humph !" Lisha snorted, contemptuously, " he do 
 know nothin baout it He do know beans baout 
 anything at is er happened sen the ol war." 
 
 One day Joel Bartlett came in, and after solemn deliber 
 ation and a more than ordinary puckering of his mouth, 
 said, " Friends, Jemimy an me hes hed some weighty 
 consideration consarnin your givin up here an goin 
 away. Thee knows, Lisher, at thy little place fits in very 
 handy long o mine in fact, it is parto the original pitch 
 of ol Hezekier Varney s tew-hunderd acre lot, an is quite 
 desirable. But I hev felt it bore in upon me tu come an 
 tell you, thee an Jerushy, that if you feel misgivin s as tu 
 the wisdom o breakin up here an goin West tu your
 
 UNCLB LISHA S SHOP. 177 
 
 son, I am willin tu give thee back thy deed, which it 
 hain t been sot in the records, an I am willin yes, I am 
 willin , after a little inward struggle, " tu du so withaout 
 no consideration only thee shall pay for the drawin o 
 the writin s, which is diffunt from what we agreed." 
 
 " No, Joel," Lisha answered, "I m bleeged tu ye, 
 but aour minds was made up tu start on, an I hain t 
 a-goin tu play baby naow. We re goin ." 
 
 " Wai," Joel said, with a sigh of relief, " I felt as 
 ough it was my duty tu make thee this offer, an naow I 
 feel clear. Whatever comes, your Heavenly Father 11 be 
 as nigh tu ye in the perraries as he hes ben in the shadder 
 o the maountains," and he went home feeling that he 
 had done all that his conscience demanded for its ease. 
 
 By and by came the sad and painful breaking up and 
 the auction sale of their non-portable goods, such house 
 hold gods as the old clock that had marked, with its slow 
 beats, the uneventful and comfortable course of more than 
 half their life ; the big wheel and the little wheel that had 
 both hummed many tunes to Aunt Jerusha s touch, and 
 were dear to her. And so to her was the churn, but Uncle 
 Lisha saw it go to a low bidder with a feeling of relief in 
 final separation, and a thrill of revengeful pleasure as he 
 thought of the unhappy hours spent in pounding stubborn 
 churnings encased in its red-painted staves. It mitigated 
 the pangs of parting with them to know that Sam Lovel 
 had bought the clock (with an inward resolve that it should 
 some time resume its old place in the kitchen corner), and 
 that the spinning-wheels had gone to the Puringtons. 
 The big wheel, Mrs. Purington said, " ould be handy for 
 Huldy when she went tu haousekeepin , though the flax 
 wheel wa n t much caount, sen everyb dy d gin up
 
 178 UNCLE LISffA S SHOP. 
 
 raisin flax." Solon Briggs suggested that it would be " a 
 val able relickt of ancient past times tu Huldy s future 
 pregenitors. " Sam also bought the shoe-bench, saying 
 that it was a " mighty comfortable seattu set in an smoke, 
 with a handy place for a feller s terbacker, as well as bein 
 a good place tu clean a gun. He was strongly tempted 
 to buy the favorite cow, so gentle that even Huldah might 
 milk her, though she never should, but with the fear of his 
 stepmother before him, he let the cow go to Joseph Hill. 
 
 " Datdamn hoi long John Dark !" said Antoine, when 
 the giant of the turkey shoot bid off the old horse after the 
 Canadian had gone beyond the limit of his resources in 
 bidding. " F he ant be for he, Ah 11 have it some 
 hawse for swaup ! Den Ah 11 go Vairgenn, an prob ly 
 get tree, prob ly fave dollar for boot ! What dat John 
 Dark wan come way ov here for spile em up my buy 
 dat hawse, hein !" * 
 
 " Why, Ann Twine," said Lisha, " I d ha knocked ol 
 Bob in the head fore I d ha let im go tu a Canuck tu 
 buse an starve 1" 
 
 " Bah gosh ! you call it brase heem for swaup it for 
 hawse better as he 11 was ? 
 
 John Dart made his way to Aunt Jerusha and said : 
 " Mis Peggs, I ll take good keer o the ol hoss, an 
 won t never drive im fast thaout t is keepin up wi 
 the percession tu fun als, which I m hopesin won t come 
 often, n I won t never sell im, ner give im tu nob dy 
 only God A mighty I ll du that when he gits so s t he 
 can t enj y airthly life." 
 
 " Thank ye kindly, Mister ?" 
 
 " John Dart is my name, marm," said the giant, bow 
 ing almost to the level of her sun-bonnet.
 
 UNCLE LISHA S SHOP. 179 
 
 "Thank ye kindly, Mister Dart, an I m dreffle glad 
 at Bob hes fell intu sech good hands. He s ben a faithf l 
 creetur tu us, an it s worried me dreffly thinkin o what 
 might be become on him." 
 
 The " vandew" was over at last, and the old couple s 
 hold on their old life was loosened with sore wrenchings 
 of their heartstrings. Now that their hearthstone was cold 
 and the little brown house was home no longer, they tar 
 ried with Joseph Hill during the short time of awaiting 
 the day of departure. Lisha wandered about aimlessly, 
 uncomfortable in idleness and continual wearing of his 
 best clothes, taking long looks at old familiar scenes that 
 he felt he was soon to leave forever. He went with Aunt 
 Jerusha to the little hillside burying-ground, which had 
 grown surprisingly populous with dead since they attended 
 the first burial there, awed then in the strange presence of 
 death, who had now become so frequent and familiar a 
 visitor that his coming was but briefly noted. There 
 under the widespread canopy of the sumachs and among 
 the rank growth of golden-rod they bade a silent farewell 
 to the sunken graves of fathers and mothers, and the short 
 green mound that so many years ago had hidden from 
 their sight their baby daughter always and forever a baby 
 daughter to them. 
 
 " An naow, mother," said Lisha, making frequent use 
 of his " bendinah" as they turned away from the quiet 
 place of everlasting rest, " we ve said good-by tu them at s 
 nighest tu us. Aour rhuts is putty nigh pulled up."
 
 XXI. 
 
 THE DEPARTURE. 
 
 TOWARD the end of summer Lisha and his wife were 
 ready to begin their journey. The day of departure had 
 come, and many of their old neighbors had gathered at Jo 
 seph Hill s to bid them farewell. Among these were Joel 
 Bartlett and his wife ; he with solemn words of advice and 
 consolation, she full of kind thoughtful ness for the com 
 fort of their departing friends, who, though "world s 
 people," were endeared to her through life-long neighbor 
 hood. " I trust, Lisher," said Joel, after puckering his lips 
 so tightly that the boys who had come to behold the exodus 
 thought the event was to be celebrated by the long-deferred 
 whistle, " at thee is clear in thy mind at thee is a-walkin 
 in the way at is lit by the in ard light, an I hope the 
 path 11 be made smooth an pleasant tu thy feet, an 
 them o thy companion, an " F he wore hees 
 own boot ?" Antoine asked, in an undertone. And 
 Gran ther Hill broke in from his seat in the doorway, 
 shaking his cane at the shoemaker " Wai, it won t, 
 Lisher ! You 11 find it a hard rhud fer tu travil, I tell ye ! 
 A hard rhud fer tu travil, wi fever n aag, an snakes, 
 an Injins ! An the canawl, an all ! When ye git a 
 chance tu pint yer gun tan Injin, pint a leetle fore he 
 does, and shoot tu kill !" And he came down and shook 
 hands with Lisha and his wife.
 
 UNCLE LISHA S SHOP. 181 
 
 Tom Hamlin lurked shyly about the outer edge of the 
 c/rcle, and the man who always asked questions was pres 
 ent, silent, but his face and figure a standing interrogation 
 point. 
 
 Huldah s pretty face was hidden in Aunt Jerusha s sun- 
 bonnet, and reappeared with tear-stained cheeks, while her 
 mother wiped away her own sympathetic tears with alter 
 nate corners of her apron, and her father coughed loudly 
 to cover the break in his voice. And so came farewell to 
 old friends and old scenes. 
 
 After the kindly fashion of those days, some of their 
 neighbors accompanied them to the place where they 
 were to embark in the canal-boat that would take them 
 the length of "Clinton s big ditch" on their way. 
 Pelatiah drove the lumber wagon whereon was piled the 
 " housel stuff" reserved from the "vandew. " Then 
 came a like conveyance, driven by Sam Lovell, and 
 carrying Lisha and Jerusha, Joe Hill and his wife, Solon 
 Briggs and Antoine, and a day s provisions for the party. 
 They jolted over the rough road and through the little 
 hamlet that the forge and store and tavern gave life to, 
 and then taking the road along the bank of the noisy 
 little river, the old people turned their backs upon the 
 green wall of the mountains and entered on their long 
 journey westward. Lisha was as cheerful as could be ex 
 pected when his heart was heavy with the sorrow of leav 
 ing his old home, and he was suffering the discomfort of 
 his high-collared, tight-sleeved best coat and the weight 
 of his bell-crowned hat. He pointed out the farm where 
 the first settler of Danvis had "pitched," the hill where 
 Pelatiah s grandfather killed a panther, discoursed of the 
 changes that had come since he first knew the town, made
 
 1 82 UNCLE LISHA S SHOP. 
 
 some strained efforts at joking with Antoine, and talked 
 on and on when he had nothing to say. Aunt Jerusha 
 wept silently in the seclusion of her new gingham sun- 
 bonnet, comforting herself with frequent pinches of snuff 
 that afforded her an excuse for as frequent use of her hand 
 kerchief. 
 
 At noon they stopped to bait their teams and eat their 
 lunch under some wayside trees and then went on. In the 
 middle of the afternoon they entered the little city that 
 marked the end of the first stage of the old people s jour 
 ney, and the wonders of its few three-story buildings, its 
 three churches, and the court-house perched upon the 
 crest of a ledge, in which, Lisha told them, the leegis- 
 latur sot onct," so dazed Pelatiah that he nearly missed 
 finding the way to the wharf where the canal packet lay. 
 There new wonders met his astonished gaze. A rifle shot 
 up stream, the river almost as wide as the length of the 
 forge pond, the largest sheet of water he had ever seen till 
 now, foamed and thundered down a precipice forty feet 
 high, and then its vexed waters writhed along a deep, 
 broad reach, past the wharves, where lay the canal-boats 
 and the little steamer that was to tow them to the lake and 
 then to Whitehall. 
 
 Lounging about these strange immense craft were the 
 surly or saucy canal-boatmen, upon whom the young 
 mountaineer looked with awe, for they were travelled men 
 who must have seen nearly all of the great world, having 
 been more than once to the end of the canal and back 
 again, and some, it was said, had even beheld the wonders 
 and glories of that almost fabulous city by the sea, New 
 York. 
 
 " In an airly day," said Lisha, " some o the Yorkers
 
 UNCLE LISI/A S SHOP. 183 
 
 built em a gris mill on them falls, an Ethan Allen an 
 his Green Maountin Boys come an drove em off an 
 hove the millstuns over the falls, or some says inter a big 
 pothole nigh the top, n t they re a-layin in the bot 
 tom on t naow. Right along here where these ere wharfs 
 an stores be, McDonner s ships was built time o the 
 last war ; ships a gre d l bigger n them canawl boats be, 
 Peltier. I worked here a-haulin timber to build em on, 
 an twas hurryin times, I tell ye, with the British 
 threatenin the hull time. We hauled a big stick here 
 aouten the woods, for a keel, it was, wi three yoke o 
 oxen, an at it the ship carpenters went full chisel, an in 
 six weeks I b lieve, it wa n t no more, from the day t 
 was cud daowrr, the ship was all ready to go int the 
 water ! That s the way they did things in them times. 
 A spell arter that the British come in their gunboats to 
 destr y the Merican vessels here, but they didn t git no 
 furder n the maouth o the crick, for aour folks hed a 
 little fort there, a leftenant name o Cassin commandin 
 on t, an they drove the British boats off. They call it 
 Fort Cassin yit, but t ain t nothin but some banks o 
 airth, an wa n t then. When aour ships got all ready 
 they went off int the lake, an bimeby come Plattsburg 
 fight. We all rallied aout, an th was lots o Green 
 Maountin Boys tu it, me mongst the rest on em, skeered 
 nough, but no notion o runnin . We fit an fit on 
 land, an the ships fit on the water, till arter a good spell 
 aour ships licked their n, an then the British we was 
 fightin run, an I tell ye the backs o their tarnal red cuts 
 was a dum sight the best-lookin side on em t we d seen 
 yit That s all the folks- fightin t ever I done, or ever 
 wan tu. That ere big stun buildin over yunder where
 
 1 84 UNCLE LISHA S SHOP. 
 
 the flag s a-flyin is the gov ment a snal. The s muskits 
 an cannon nough in it tu rig aout a hull army. N 
 there ! that pussy ol red-nosed feller comin a hossback 
 long the road s the major t bosses it. Nothin tu du 
 but draw his pay, fo five hundred dollars a year, I s pose, 
 an drink ol Jamaky sperits an sweet wine, an loaf 
 raound." 
 
 With such discourse Lisha entertained his friends till 
 nightfall, when he and Jerusha went to their berths in the 
 packet and they to their inn, excepting Antoine, who hav 
 ing dug some worms, and borrowed a pole and line of a 
 compatriot, went fishing for bullpouts. 
 
 Next morning came the sorrowful leave-taking, and after 
 much bustle and shouting and swearing by the captains 
 and crews of the steamboat and canal boats, wherein the 
 bold mariners of the canal having had the practice and ex 
 perience of greater and more frequent opportunities, greatly 
 outdid their rivals, the little flotilla got under weigh. The 
 fussy little steamer coughed and churned its way down the 
 beautiful river, and as it dragged the packet out of sight 
 behind a wooded bend, the sturdy figure of the old shoe 
 maker was seen standing in the stern beside the bowed 
 form of his wife waving a last farewell with his red 
 " bendina. " 
 
 " There they go," said Sam Lovel, turning sadly 
 away. " There they go, julluk tew ol trees tore up by 
 the ruts an driftin daown stream."
 
 XXII. 
 
 THE WILD BEES SWARM. 
 
 ONE day, a little more than a year later, when the blue 
 September sky arched the valley, and the afternoon sun 
 shone warm into it, and the bees were busy among the 
 asters and golden-rods in the little graveyard that over 
 looked Uncle Lisha s old homestead, Sam Lovel came push 
 ing his way slowly through the thicket of sumachs. Under 
 his arm he carried his bee-box, which, after looking about 
 him a moment, he set upon the top of a little gravestone. 
 When he had watched for a minute through the glazed lid 
 the two or three little prisoners his box held, he carefully 
 removed the cover and backed a few paces away. His eye 
 caught the moss-grown inscription on the stone " Jerusha, 
 daughter of E. and J. Peggs ; departed this life" he had 
 to bend down the heads of everlasting to read the re 
 mainder "Sept. the 10, 18 " 
 
 He reaped away the everlastings with his knife and 
 cleaned the moss from the letters before he took time to 
 notice that one of his bees had climbed to the edge 
 of the box and taken wing, circling a few feet above 
 it, and then sailed straight toward the house ; and then 
 another and another arose and went off in the same course. 
 
 "Wai, naow, that s cur ous, hain t it, Drive?" said 
 Sam, addressing his dog, who was making himself com 
 fortable on the grass near him, and now answered his
 
 1 86 UNCLE LfSHA S SHOP. 
 
 master with a lazy beat of his tail. Sam had hardly got 
 his pipe alight and begun to take his ease beside the dog, 
 when back came the bees with some companions and 
 settled into the box. 
 
 All right, said Sam. Le s move up, and going 
 cautiously to it, he shut the lid, tapped the side till the 
 bees arose from the comb in the bottom, when he shut the 
 lower slide, took up the box and moved on in the direc 
 tion the bees had taken to within a few rods of the house. 
 Then he opened the slide and then the cover, and when 
 the bees had filled themselves again, they sailed away with 
 their freight as before. They soon returned and were 
 again imprisoned till Sam had set the box on one of the 
 posts of the garden-fence. Again he gave them their 
 liberty, and in ten minutes a hundred bees were buzzing 
 to and fro between the box and a knot-hole high up in the 
 gable of the shop. 
 
 " Yes, sir," said Sam, laughing softly, " the s a swarm 
 under the cla b rds o the shop, jes as sure s your name 
 s Drive ! Wai, they c n stay there for all o me." 
 
 He went around to the front of the house, stepping 
 carefully lest he should tread on Aunt Jerusha s posies, 
 uncared for now and running wild : China-asters, sweet- 
 williams, and pansies struggling in a matted tangle of 
 May-weed, posy beans and morning-glories wandering 
 away from the posts of the stoop to climb the tall pig 
 weeds. Two squirrels stopped chasing each other over 
 the roof and along the rattling clapboards to scoff at the 
 intruder, and a woodchuck sounded his querulous whistle 
 and scuttled under the shop as Sam approached it The 
 door was half open, sud he almost expected to hear the 
 hearty hail of his old friend but a chance-sown poppy
 
 UNCLE LISIfA S SHOP. 
 
 187 
 
 growing in a crack of the sill, and the fallen petals of its 
 last flower withering undisturbed on the worn threshold, 
 told mutely how long it had been untrodden by the foot 
 of man. When Sam looked into the empty shop, where 
 nothing was left to tell of its former use but a faint waft of 
 the old familiar odor, the sconce and its mouse-nibbled 
 candle-end, a broken last and a rubbishy heap of leather 
 scraps, a partridge sprang from the floor and, hurtling 
 through the open window, went sailing away to the woods. 
 " The fog o the ol stories hangs raound here yet," 
 Sam soliloquized, " an wild creeturs takes as nat ral as tu 
 the woods tu Uncle Lisher s shop. Come, dawg."
 
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