PHIL BRADLEY’S SNOW-SHOE TRAIL
OR, THE MOUNTAIN BOYS IN CANADA WILDS
[CHAPTER I—INTO THE LAND OF THE MOOSE AND CARIBOU]
“That cold chicken Mrs. McNab put up for our lunch yesterday went fine, fellows; and I only wish we had the like of it for to-day!”
“You always did have a weakness for fowls, Ethan.”
“Just so, X-Ray Tyson; that’s why they put me out in the left garden on our Brewster baseball team so I could gobble all that were knocked that way.”
“Well, we’ve heard you boasting lots of times about that wonder of a rooster you’ve got at home.”
“Oh! you mean old Robinson Crusoe, don’t you, Lub?”
“Yes, that sorrel-topped ungainly looking crow-factory we’ve all seen strutting around your yard so often. I never ran across an uglier bird, for a fact, if you’ll excuse me for saying it, Ethan.”
The boy who answered to the last mentioned name only laughed as he continued: