d with dignity.

"Are they some kind of a varmint?" Dubiously.

"Varmint?"

"Pack-rat or weasel?"

"Scarcely!"

Wallie looked so injured that Pinkey said apologetically:

"I was jest cur'ous." But inquired further: "Is that stuffin' or in'ards
coming through the sewin' down the front of 'em?"

"Forcemeat. I made it according to a recipe."

"Indeed?" Politely. "Don't go shy yourself jest because I'm here," he
protested, as Wallie attempted to cut one in two with the butcher-knife.
"I ain't feelin' so hungry--somethin' has took my appetite."

As the table swayed under Wallie's efforts to carve a prairie-dog, he
suggested:

"Perhaps if you took hold of one leg----"

"Ye-ah," said Pinkey, humorously, "and you take holt of the other and
put your foot on my chest so you kin git a purchase, then we'll both
pull and somethin's bound to happen."

"If I could only find a joint----"

"Worry one of them legs off and we'll see how we like it before you play
yourself out on it."

Wallie acted upon the suggestion and presented the severed member.

"Try it," he urged, persuasively.

Pinkey sunk his grinders into the leg and laid back on it.

"Does it seem tough?" Wallie asked, watching him anxiously.

"Tough! I'm scairt it's goin' to snap back and knock me over. Wait till
I git a fresh holt on it."

"Do you get the flavour at all?"

"I can't pull enough off to taste it," Pinkey replied, plaintively.

"Try the dressing and tell me what you think of it." Wallie scooped out
a generous spoonful and placed it on his plate, waiting confidently for
the verdict.

Pinkey conveyed his knife to his mouth while Wallie stood regarding him
with an expression of pleased expectancy as he tasted.

A startled look was succeeded by one that was unmistakably horror.
Pinkey knocked over the box upon which he was sitting as he jumped from
the table and tore the kitchen door open.

Wallie watched him wonderingly:

"Tell you what I think of it!" Pinkey declared, returning. "I ain't got
words--they ain't none in the dictionary. My Gawd! what is it made of?"

"Just biscuit crumbs and onions," said Wallie, colouring.

"Where did you keep 'em?"

Wallie pointed to the box on the floor in the corner.

Pinkey made a hideous grimace.

"Gimme a drink of water! Gimme a chew of tobacco! Gimme anything to take
the taste of _mouse_ out'n my mouth. Wallie," solemnly, "men have died
fer less'n that in this country. If I thought you'd d