Oscar; Or, The Boy Who Had His Own Way

by Walter Aimwell

"Do you suppose there's one in that hole?" inquired Oscar; "let's see if we can't scare him out."

"I don't know whether there is or not," replied Jerry; "but if there was, we could n't dig him out without shovels. They burrow real deep. If we had brought a dog with us, how he would dig into that hole!"

"I wish I had my Tiger here," said Oscar; "it's too bad father would n't let me bring him with me."

Oscar thrust his cane into the hole, but did not reach the end of it; and if the occupant of the tenement was within, he did not think it worth while to show himself. The boys accordingly renewed their journey. After they had reached the foot of the hill, they had to cross a swamp. With its wet and miry bottom, and its dense growth of vines, bushes, and small trees, this was no easy matter; but they succeeded in getting through with no damage save wet feet, a few slight scratches, and a good many mosquito bites. This latter trouble was the most serious of all. The mosquitoes were large and ferocious. They bit right through jacket, vest, and all, and Oscar declared that their sharp stings even penetrated his boots.

After the boys emerged from the swamp, they came to the road in which the man met a bear. They followed this road a short distance, till it brought them to the shore of a large and beautiful pond. Leaving the highway, they now walked along by the edge of the water, and soon came to the old hut they were in pursuit of. It was but a few rods from the pond, and was directly under the brow of a steep and rocky hill. It had a very old and decayed appearance. The roof had fallen in, the door had disappeared, and the single window was without sash or glass. It contained but one apartment, and that was very small, and so choked up with rubbish that the boys did not try to enter.

"Well, that must have been a great place for a man to live in," said Oscar, after he had inspected the premises. "How long has the old fellow been dead?"

"I don't know," said Jerry; "it must be fifteen years, for he died before I was born."

"I wonder what he lived here for; does anybody know?" inquired Oscar.

"No, he was a hermit, and that's all anybody knows about him. They say he used to have a garden, and raised everything he wanted to eat. In the summer time he used to work a good deal for two or three farmers that lived over at Cedar Hill, at the further end of the pond. He had a little skiff, and rowed back and forth in that. He never used to spend any money, and people say he must have had all of a thousand dollars, that he had earned, when he died; but nobody knew what became of it. They suppose he buried it about here somewhere, or hid it in some rock."

"A thousand dollars!" said Oscar; "I 'm going to hunt for that; what will you bet I won't find it?"