"I don't know," was the answer. "I have done my part by practicing every day, and you have done yours by making me this gay coat, and by putting a new cord on my powder-horn."
"I only wish that I could do more for you—something that would win the prize."
"If I kill as many robins as I did in my last practice, it will be difficult to beat me," said Owen, taking the rifle which Bertha handed him, and balancing it on the pommel in front of him.
"And did you really bring down twenty birds in twenty shots?" asked Bertha.
"Certainly I did."
"And didn't miss one?"
"Not one! But why do you ask me that question? You heard me tell father all about it when I came home last night."
"I know that I did, Owen, but I wanted to hear you say so again. It makes me feel so much more certain that you are going to win."
"Well, if you are that easily pleased, I can repeat it half a dozen times."
"No! no! once will do! But, oh, me! I do hope you'll win," said Bertha, with a prolonged sigh.