M. H. K.
CHILDREN'S PAGE.
PLAYING 'POSSUM.
"See what a splendid 'possum I've shot, Uncle Toby. I killed him all myself."
"Killed him all yo'se'f, eh? Now, let me tole you' suffin'. Jest yo' look sharp after him. A 'possum am a mighty skeery critter, shore's yo' bawn."
"Why, but he's dead, uncle, and how can he need any looking after?"
"Don't yo' be so shore 'bout dat ar' now, 'case dey's mighty onsartin, mighty onsartin. I mind now wat yore bressed uncle, the parson, used ter say on that subjec', ses he: 'Toby, ef yo' ebber wants to be a fust-rate Christian, yo' mus'n't let yer 'settin' sins fool ye, 'case dey's jes like 'possums. Yo' t'ink dem all dead and gone fur to pester ye no moah, when all ob a suddent heah dey all comes agin, jes' as pow'rful as ebber. Be shore yo' kills dem dead—plumb dead—ebbery time yo' sees de leastest bit ob one stick'n up anywhars.' Dat's what he used fur to remark, an' he war a mighty good man, chuck full ob de sperrit ob goodness."