The Republican. [volume] (Oakland, Md.) 1877-current, 1899-11-23

p'ny an come nigh lamin' Giner'l Jack
sons war boss.
while ago | was down on the creek
a-shootin' cat squirrels. She kicked me
back'ards over stump, an then she
made another kick at me as l lay thar
helpless, an eff she hadn't a-struck her
breech ag'in a big rock l s'pose she'd
a-kep on kickin' tell she kicked herself
clean out Nv the woods. Oh. she's
high kicker, femme tell We. She's as
good gun as ever wus, an she's ben
in the family fur TO generations, but
eff ever the devil possessed any critter
on this yearth he's got control Nv OIL
Killbuck this mint. This amt the fust
time she's played me such capers.
She beats all creation when it comes
down to out an out cussedness. I've
had trials an triberlations 'nough with
'er to make Christian out'n the hard
hcartedest Jew that ever KEEP Sat'day
fur Sunday.
I've thought NV havin' 'er changed
f'om a flint an steel to a pincussion
lock, but when l think bout how long
she's ben in the family, an how my
daddy hated these new-fangled cap
'rangements what go with the pincus-
sion locks, an when | rickerlect how
my daddy's granddaddy kerried that
gun an fit the British with SIGH great
slaughter at New Orleans, hain't got
the heart to make any change in 'er.
The wust trick she ever done me
wus oncet when | had baited sucker
hole in the Oothcaloogy an tuck old
Killbuck long fur ducks. Ye see in the
winter these big greenheads feed in the
reaches Nv the creek, an eff teller don't
ketch no fish he has a chance to git a
duck or two, an eff he don't git no ducks
he has a chance at the suckers, an don't
waste so much time.
Hit wus a cold, frosty mornin' an
purity good skin Nv ice on the edges an
III the low places. | Slipped down to
my baited suckerhole early, an l seed
f'om the blubbers arisin' that the fish
was a-feedin'. Creepin' out on a log
what wus partly hid by the bush over
head, | laid my gun cross my lap an
baited my hook an drapped it in. Id
made sich little noise that not a bird
had tiuttered, an a sassy little cat SOUR
rel sot on a stump jest cross the creek
an parked an chartered an switched
his tail at me as eff he dared me to take
a pull at him.
But l wasn't out fur squirrels that
mornin'. When 1 go a-squirrel huntin'
| stick to squirrels, an when I'm out
fur ducks l let the squirrels rip an
stick TO ducks. hadn't ben settin' thar
more n ten minits when l hearn a duck
quacll jest round the bend, an [ cooked
my gun an KEEP one eye on my cork
an the other on the bend in the creek.
wonderin' which'd be fust, ducks or
suckers.
jest as | hearn another quack | no.
diced nibble at my cork. stuck the
muzzle Nv my gun ag'in the bank an
made ready, beca'se hit was a-gittin' ex-
citin', as ! still &c uldn t tell which would
be fust, suckers Ell ducks. 'Quack, went
the duck, jest round the turn, an a
stronger nibble bobbed my cork. /
stuck my pole atwiX' my knees an
fetched my gun round in position, for
sump'n tot me that it would be ducks
fust.
jest then quack' went the duck, an
fine pair NV greenheads came sailin'
round the bend, not 80 yards away, an
down went my cork. l jerked my pole
with one hand an at the same time
fired at the ducks. Je-whillikins! Ye
thought We hearn blast while ago, but
hit wusnt circumstance to the report,
an at the crack Nv the gun / wus lifted
clean Off the log over back ards into
the creek. As | went ierked the pole
so hard that | aung the little pollywog
NV catfish what'd ben a-bitin' my hook
bout 20 feet high an landed it 'mongst
the bresh above my head.
THAT wus the fust thing | nodiced
when | come to the top. The mex wus
tur'ble churnin' in the warter which
graduly moved to'ards t'other bank.
an finally | seed OF Killbuck a-kickin'
herself out'n the warter onto the high
land. The ducks wusn't nowhar to be
seed. s'pose I'd blowed 'em clean off
the face Nv the yearth.
Il walked cross on the log an picked
up OF Killbuck. She wus a-tremblin'
like sump'n alive, an when l looked at
the muzzle hit wus split down bout
three inches. Ye see when / leant the
muzzle ag'in the bank wad NV mud
got stuck in it, an / wus that eager to
git shot at them greenheads, an that
accepted with the fish a-bitin' that |
didn't nodice it. l had to take her to
gunsmith an have the bar'l sawed off
blow the split, but now she's as good as
ever an jest as bad as ever bout kick.
in'."-Detroit Free Press.