For some reason or other, Bert’s eyes rested on the gun on the wall over the mantel.
“Is that gun loaded, Mrs. Bimby?” he asked.
“Yes, I reckon ’tis,” she answered. “Jim always keeps it loaded, for he goes hunting sometimes.”
“What after?” asked Bert.
“Oh, squirrels and rabbits.”
“That’s what I’m going to do, then!” cried Bert. “If I could shoot some squirrels or rabbits we’d have a potpie and we wouldn’t be hungry. Will you please get that gun down for me, Mrs. Bimby?”
She looked at Bert and smiled.
“You’re pretty small to handle a gun,” she said. “But maybe you could fire it if I showed you how. I’ve shot it more ’n once, and I brought down a cawing crow last winter. Sometimes the rabbits come close up to our cabin here. Wait till I take a look.”
She went to the window to peer out into the storm, and Nan did likewise, while Bert continued to gaze at the gun on the wall. It was a shotgun, not very heavy, and he felt certain he could aim it at a rabbit and pull the trigger.
Mrs. Bimby shook her head as she turned away from her window.