“Quail?” Dick’s face lighted. “Is the hunting still good around here?”
“Excellent for quail and prairie chicken, and the plover are plentiful at certain seasons,” Dr. Morton replied.
“They found two deer on the creek last winter,” added Ernest.
“Yes, there are a few strays left but the day for them has practically gone by.”
“Dick, if you go hunting you’ve got to take me.” Alice put her hands on her husband’s shoulders and rested her chin on his hair.
“Barkus is willing if you can stand the tramp.”
“We don’t tramp, we drive. It’s a trifle too early for hunting, but by the latter part of next 93week, you might try it. You can take the boys and spring wagon and have an all-day picnic. I can spare them, and Ernest for a guide.”
“Can we all go?” Katy started up excitedly.
“Of course, I can shoot a little,” Chicken Little sounded patronizing.
“Yes, Chicken Little can shoot but she never hits anything–she always shuts her eyes before she pulls the trigger,” Ernest called her down promptly.