"You bet! Makes me think of one some of us caught in a trap once. One of its legs was broken, so we cut its throat and let go of it. Would you believe the pesky thing lived nigh on half an hour, hopping about on three legs all the time. It was fun to watch it perform!"
"Beats all how long some things hang on, anyhow. I shot a robin one day, jest fer fun. She fell right under a little tree, 'nd two days after I happened to be passing, and there she lay a-gaspin' yet, 'nd with life enough to flutter a mite when she saw me, 'nd give sort of a warnin' chirp. Lookin' up, I spied a nest 'nd four dead birds in it. I 'lowed then she was the mother 'nd the little ones had starved. I wrung the old one's neck, thinking I might as well finish the job."
"I've shot squirrels 'nd such things lots of times, 'nd when I couldn't find 'em easy, I'd go off, 'nd days after find 'em still alive, but too weak to get away."
"Well, it's fun to hunt when game is plenty, but this has been a mighty poor day."
"I like fishin' better."
"Say, ain't that Cramer a big fool? I went fishin' with him one day and will you b'lieve he would not string a fish till he'd killed it by running his knife through its spine at the back of its neck? Says a fish that dies ain't fit to eat, 'nd then it is inhuman to let anything die by inches. Cranky, ain't he?"
"I should say? Well, I ain't so particular; it's the fun of the thing I'm after. I don't care two cents for fish to eat."
Three years passed, and not one word from Bobby, and her name was seldom mentioned.
Life at the farm was quiet and uneventful. The doctors made their rounds of calls, Mrs. Wallace drove Jean or me out occasionally, and Burr carried on the work.