The star. (Reynoldsville, Pa.) 1892-1946, 1909-11-24
ALionHunt.
BY Marion PNrGith.

1t was shortly after my return from
Africa and was booked to give
talk on the Fauna of the Tropics" to
to the Huntsman's club at Hillsbor-
ough. Arrangements had been made
through committee, and l was to be
entertained by the president OF the
club while in town. was somewhat
delayed in alightlng at my destination
by an annoying old person who insist
ed on claiming my bag as his own. In
evaporation l finally convinced him
BY showing him its contents. A grim
ming porter was meantime signalling
him from the doorway with a bag
quite like mine, and the old fellow
hurried off with scant courtesy. l not
ed at the time his athletic build, and
his complexion, which was as darkly
Drowned as my own. AS l walked
along the platform of the station, alert
for my host who, by the way, l had
never met. | saw my brown-faced ac-
quaintance and his precious bag being
borne off in a sporty-looking rig. No
one came forward to claim me, how
ever but at last, as / stood by the
curbing with an expectant eye for a
friendly face, I saw buggy coming
toward me. 1t was low, comfortable
looking vehicle, drawn by fat, easy
going horse. These points l caught
casually, but my conscious attention
was directed to the girl who. drove.
Instantly Wordsworth's phantom of
delight" sprang to my mind:
"Her eyes as stars of twilight fair,
Like Twilight's, too, her duslky hair;
But all things else about her drawn
From Maytime and the cheerful dawn"
She was looking directly at me, and
l dare say looked as haunted, start
led and waylaid" as the poet himself
could have wished.
She smiled brightly. rs this Uncle
Henry" she asked in tone that
would have no denial. would have
pleaded guilty to an Identity more COM
promising than any Uncle Henry, with
her eyes challenging me; and as I am
known by that appelation to some jolly
youngsters at home, II was quite nat
ural for me to answer, shaking hands
cordially the while, "Of course 1t is.
Nobody else!"
"I thought ii must be, you're so
brown" she laughed, though you're
lots younger than | expected. Papa
was writing and forgot all about you
tin the last minute, and then he sent
me. You must have thought yourself
forgotten"
was too content with the delightful
situation to question how came to
be called Uncle Henry" by my hosts
daughter. My semi-public character
had accustomed me to many affection
ate abbreviations of my name, "Old
Hen" being one favorite term of en-
dearment, and If the Huntsman's club
liked Uncle I had no objections,
though my age did not warrant the
sobriquet.
Now tell me about the neathen, "
she said sociably as we drove along
the elm-shaded street.
Just then the sporty turnout bear
ing my fellow traveller appeared
ahead. coming toward us, hot foot. My
pretty companion with sudden and
effectual use of her whip urged our sur
prised old nag around the first corner,
thus avoiding a face-to-face meeting
with the approaching carriage. My
young friend was evidently timid and
feared collision. Rather speedy for
Hinsborough," she said gravely.
Then began to tell her of my ex-
perience with one of the occupants OF
the carriage we had avoided. must
have told it in my wittiest vein, for
she seemed genuinely amused.
Then she returned to the subject oil
the heathen.
"Oh, they compare pretty favorably
with the rest of humanity I answer
ed. But to tell the truth was al
ways more interested in the manners
and customs of the king of beasts
You can't hunt the heather, you know
unless you belong to the army"
smiled at her gasp Of surprise and pro
ceeded to tell her little about a lion
hunt.
We arrived at the house all too soon
and studious-looking gentleman
wearing spectacles, came down the
walk to meet us.
"Your Uncle Henry arrived some
time SINCE" he said to my fair com
panion, who looked aghast. Then ht
/. glanced inquiringly at me. The CIR