Talk to me about your cyclone cellars,
what could beat such a cozy den as this? I'm as snug as a bug in a rug.
Four wild dogs and my first deer, all in one day. I guess that's my
top-notch record, all right. Let her storm all she wants, so long as the
lightning doesn't take a notion to strike this blessed old stump," he was
saying as he mentally shook hands with himself over the day's
achievements.
After a long time, hours it seemed to Jerry, during a temporary lull in
the howling of the gale, he ventured to peep forth.
Everything was pitch black around, save when the lightning zigzagged
through space, and lighted up all creation with its electric torch.
"Looks like an all-night stand for Jerry. There comes that wind tearing
things loose again. Wow! it was a big tree went down that time! Hope none
of them take a notion to knock my poor old stump flat, or I'd be squashed
into a pancake."
Like many other people, Jerry had a habit of talking to himself under
stress of excitement Perhaps he believed that in this way he bolstered up
his courage, just as some men whistle when they find themselves trembling
in the face of some uncanny peril.
And there he crouched while the gale blew with renewed violence, and the
night wore slowly on.
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