"Now, Angeline, don't let us have any nonsense. Sit right down here and be comfortable. I'll make a copy of the receipt for you to-morrow, and I always put in more eggs than it calls for."
"Vosh," said Pen, "you mustn't make too much noise. Father's going to tell a story. It's of a man that got lost in the woods, and made a bear of himself."
"I've known fellows do that, and not go far into the woods either," said Vosh; and Susie thought a moment before she added,—
"So have I. But then, some men can be bears, and not half try."
The deacon laughed, and put down the apple he was paring.
"I don't know if it's much of a story," said he; "but it has one advantage over some other stories, for it's a true one.—Take an apple, Mrs. Stebbins.—Corry, pass them to Vosh.—Pen, well, keep the cat in your lap if you want her."
"Now," said aunt Judith, "I guess everybody's ready."
"I won't go home till after the story, nohow," said Mrs. Stebbins; "but speaking of bears"—
"Mother," interrupted Vosh, "you've dropped your yarn. Here it is."
"Hem!" said the deacon. "There were more bears all around the country once than there are now, and they did more mischief. It was really worth while to take a hunt for 'em now and then; and there's always a good market for bear-skins, if you cure 'em well. The way my story came about was this:—