Life — August 6, 1896 — page 11: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

*LIFE: know his wife; a nice bird. She'll be sorry. But ‘twas a good shot although you did take him at a disadvantage; eh?” “I suppose I did,” whispered the hunter, whose voice was hoarse and came with difficulty. “Shot him because you are hungry?” inquired the bear pleasantly, glancing at the generous waist of his companion. “Oh, no. * “Just for the fun of it?” “T suppose so.” ‘Well, it’s good sport. who holds the gun.” The sportsman stole a glance toward his weapon, which, unfortunately, was the other side of the offensive brute. Isn't it?” “ Er-what?” ** You seem nervous,” and the creature laughed, his loose sides shaking as if something funny had been said. ‘‘ You don't want that gun. It might go off and hurt something. We are safer without it.” And he continued to smile. “‘You seem embarrassed,” he said with another offensive chuckle. ‘Iam afraid you are not enjoying your: self.” The hunter did not answer. He was consider- ing the chances of making a dash to one side, then jumping for the gun. The bear scemed to divine this intent, for he laid a paw, with the claws out, on the gentleman's sleeve. ‘It must require some nerve to come single handed into the forest among all the birds and squirrels, armed only with a shot gun. But then, of course, a hunter has to take chances.” That is, of course, for the chap There was a silence, for the man said nothing. He was trying to get his wits together, but it re- quired all his intellect to keep his knees from let- ting him down. “By the way, what's the price of bear's meat this morning? “IT don't know.” The man tried to edge away, but the claws were still in the sleeve. ‘* Excuse me for asking the question, but did you kill that woodpecker in self defence?” ‘From a general sen: >. Just for sport. “Lam glad you approve of that sort of thing, as it gives me your own personal endorsement of a little plan of my own, I am something of a hunter myself.” “Yes?” “Oh, yes! feed, and they are hungry now. is it?” The hunter looked at his watch. “Ten minutes of eleven. “Why, we ought to dine at noon, and they expect me to bring the dinner. Won't you come and fill a place? I might say, fill several places.” And again his sides began to shake. “T don't know how much of a diner out you are, but you will never be of more service at a meal than you will to-day.” of duty, perhaps?” But I do it for busines: I have a family to By the way, what time 103 Then placing his paw inside the hunter's arm, they started off, The host seemed amiable and tried his best, as they walked along, to engage his guest in conversation, but the man appeared depressed and was silent. He simply an- swered questions until the bear inquired if he had a family. ‘Yes, I have! a wife and two children. Think of them if you have no consideration for me!" “Are they starving?” “No.” “ But if they were starving and I had appeared in your front yard this morning, can you give me your word of honor they would not have had bear's meat for dinner?” “T aon't know.” , I suppose not. But my wife and three daughters are literally fading away before my eyes. And I know you will not blame me for supplying them with a square meal.” The hunter failed to answer, and they disappeared among the trees. There was soon a great rejoicing in the Bruin family. And later on, having rid themselves of that goneness which is “THERE WAS SOON A GREAT REJOICING.'* the inevitable result of meals too long deferred, they passed a fuller afternoon than they had known for many months. This tale is not a sad one even from a human point of view, as the man was wealthy and very close, and his family, had he lived, would have derived little benefit from his money. Moreover, he was something of a bully at home and used to open his wife's letters. J. A, Mitchell. TO THE CANDIDATE. I" as noble, it was grand, fearless Bryan, so to stand, Smashing into kindling splinters all our antiquated laws, Flinging credit, honor, faith, to the mob for instant death— But you did it, florid Bryan; you were fired with your cause. So when the sunset ember of a day in next November Shall fade across the continent and give the strife its pause, May the ark abide in Zion; and for you, intrepid Bryan, May the bells of vesper whisper—‘' He is fired with his cause.” FL BG. comicbooks.com