"Then he deserves to have a bad time," declared Jerry, tossing the bunch
of game down before Will and Uncle Toby, who happened to be doing
something in common at the campfire.
That night they had a royal feast indeed. It tasted all the better
because the squirrels and partridge had fallen to their own guns, and not
been basely purchased in the market. And doubtless their surroundings had
considerable to do with the enjoyment of the dinner.
Will took advantage of the darkness to get a new roll of films in
his camera.
"How many have you cracked off," asked Jerry, noting his occupation.
"Three rolls, so far; about half I brought. I expect to be careful from
now on, and try to get choice subjects. But I know I'll never find
another to equal that wildcat scene. Oh! I hope it is a success!"
replied the enthusiastic photographer.
"So say we all," remarked Frank; "for it will chase the blues away many a
time, just to see the look on Uncle Toby's face, as he clung to that
friendly limb."
"Gorry, but I was mighty glad tuh git my claws on dat limb, Marse Frank.
Wen I seed dem big yaller eyes a-starin' at me, an' heerd dat yowlin'
noise, my knees dey jest wobbled together. Nevah could tell how I got up
dar; reckons as how you say am jest de truf, an' I _flew_!" exclaimed the
cook, able to laugh now at his adventure.
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