The Weiser signal. [volume] (Weiser, Idaho) 1890-1904, 1894-03-01
A SHOT IN TIME.


row, mayn't l? You know I'll be
fifteen next week; and you promised
me birthday .reat," and Alfred's dark
eyes snapped in pleased anticipation.
81 suppose shall have to keep my
word, sighed poor, overworked Mrs.
Mullen. but I'm afraid. There are
so many accidents"
"Psbawl mother. Ed Gates amt
fourteen an he's had gun for over a
year. I've shot it lots, an ] know
how
"Well, well Yes, you may have the
gun" Then, as Alfred ran cheerfully
to tell little Ray the good news, Mrs
Mullen turned to the bed where lay
her paralyzed husband, and added;
"Poor boy! it's the only birthday
pleasure he can have, with that mort.
gage overdue, and you on your back
with a stroke"
"lf grandpa hadn's been so DID," said
the weak voiced invalid, "we might
have plenty of everything now. can't
see what he ever could have done with
the money he received for the back
meadow"
"Oh, Wen get along somehow" re-
piled Mrs Mullen, cheerfully, as she re-
arranged the pillows of her patient.
The twelfth of December was bright
and clear. Alfred rose with the sun,
and outdid his record in the speed with
which he performed his morning
duties.
lyon are quiet a soldier" said his
mother with smile, as the boy proudly
shouldered his ancient smooth bore.
And indeed he did look like a hunter
in his top boots, the hunting jacket his
sister Nell had lmprovised from an old
grain sack, and the big powder horn and
shot bag dangling at his side.
"Dood-byl Well det a bear TO,
Allies birfday!' shouted Ray, as lie fol
lowed in the wake of his brother and
Hero to carry the surplus game,
This gun pears to take a prett,
good load,n said Alfred, as he rammed
down generous handful OF shot. SD
Gates never that full when loaded
Guess it's because this is an old STYLED
one.n
Tramp, tramp, they went through the
woods, until Rays short legs began tc
wobble and every log tempted him te
rest awhile. Finally he pumped dowr
upon one with the announcement:
"'rain't no usel Tan't 20 no farzer
tall
"All right" said Alfred, "we'll rest. .
They had not sat there long before
they heard an inquisitive "squa-squa y
from tall beech tree.
"lt's fox squirrelr' whispered Alfred
crouching down behind log.
Pretty soon Mr.. Foxy frisked dowr
the iree' where he was brought to :
standstill, clinging head downward, b,
Rays shIill voice.
"Tnere he is There he isl-
Boon" went The Old gun, and IL
spite of his tired legs, Ray made then
spin as he ran to pick up the dead
squirrel. Holding the poor victim h,
the tall, and shou ing; You're a bis
huuter, Aired You's killed him." II,
suddenly noticed that the sportsman
was nowhere in view. He toddlet
back to the log. where the sight o.
Alfred lying fl 1t on his back brought
tears to his eyes. ooh, dearlp he
cried, you've shot yourself, too. How
ever will get home2n
Alfred was rubbing his eyes in :
dazed way, and asking "what is il
Where am ll' but the sight of Ray ant
the squirrel quickly restored his mem
DRY. II must have knocked that tree
over" he muttered, rubbing his RICH,
shoulder.
upon examination he was SURPRISED
to find piece of iron protruding from
that part of the tree peppered by the
shot.
"rhat's funny" he said, breaking /,
on; and then he exclaimed, "Onl Ohr
I'D rather be whipped" remarked
Sheriff Giles to his deputy, Chan to
execute this foreclosure, an poor old
Mullen stiff bed. You go, John, and
you can have the fees"
THANK you, but wouldn't do 1t for
4 hundred doIlar. >,