“Uncle Abe!”
“I say a 9 pound barbel, tho’ he might a been 8 and a half pound, an’ a brace of pheasants.”
“Uncle Abe!”
“I zed so—an’ a hare an’, an’,” he went on quickly, “a porkipine.”
“Uncle Abe!”
“Well—what are you Abeing me for?”
“You got all those with one shot. Never!”
“I was there—you weren’t. ’Tis easy accounted for. When I pulled the trigger the fish leapt from the water in the line, and the bullet passed through him inter the buck. I tole you the gun kicked. Well, it flew out o’ my hands, an’ hit the hare square on the nose. To recover myself, I threw up my hands, an’ caught hold o’ the two pheasants jest startled outer the bush.”
“And the porcupine?”
“I sot down on the porkipine, an’ if you’d like to ’xamine my pants you’ll find where his quills went in. I was mighty sore, an’ I could ha’ spared him well from the bag. But ’twas a wonderful good shot. You’re not going?”