So the two boys went. They were at the doors early, and secured a front seat in the gallery. The performance was well adapted to please the taste of a boy, and they enjoyed it exceedingly. Dick was uproarious in his applause whenever a man was killed.
"Seems to me you like to see men killed, Dick," said his friend.
"Yes, it's kinder excitin'."
"I don't like that part so well as some others," said Frank.
"It's' a stavin' play, aint it?" asked Dick, greatly delighted.
Frank assented.
"I'll tell you what, Frank," said Dick; "I'd like to be a hunter and roam round the plains, killin' bears and Injuns."
"Suppose they should kill you? That wouldn't suit you so well, would it?"
"No, I guess not. But I'd like to be a hunter, wouldn't you?"
"No, I would rather live in New York. I would like to make a journey to the West if I had money enough; but I would leave the hunting to other men."