the purpose. The dogs sat
around and looked longingly on, a squirrel frisked hastily across a log
near-by, the birds chattered in the trees high above and looked
curiously down on the intruders, and presently a foolish hare went
scurrying across the path, so near the dogs that they sat still, amazed
at his presumption, and forbore to chase him.

"Hi! there goes 'ol' Hyar'!'" shouted Ned; "I'm going to see if I can't
catch him." But he soon gave up the hopeless chase.

"Was that your 'ol' Hyar',' Aunt 'Phrony; your ol' Hyar' you tell us all
about?" asked little Kit.

"Bless de chil'!" said she. "Naw, 'twuz de ol', ol' Hyar' I done tol'
you 'bout, de gre't-gre't-gre't-sump'n-ru'rr grandaddy er dis one, I
reckon."

"Aunt 'Phrony," said Janey, "couldn't you tell us some more about the
old hare while we sit here and get rested?"

"Now de laws-a-mussy," said 'Phrony, "ef we gwine 'mence on de ol' tales
I reckon I mought ez well mek up my min' ter spen' de res' er de day
right yer on dis spot," and she leaned back against a pine tree and
closed her eyes resignedly. Presently she opened them to ask, "Is I uver
tol' you 'bout de time Mistah Hyar' try ter git him a wife? I isn'?
Well, den, dat de one I gwine gin you dis trip. Hit happen dis-a-way:
Hyar' he bin flyin' all 'roun' de kyountry fer right long time,
frolickin' an' cuttin' up, jes' a no-kyount bachelder, an' las' he git
kind er tired uv hit, an' he see all tu'rr creeturs gittin' ma'ied an'
he tucken hit inter his haid dat 'twuz time he sottle down an' git him a
wife; so he primp hisse'f up an' slick his hya'r down wid b'argrease an'
stick a raid hank'cher in his ves'-pockit an' pick him a button-hole
f'um a lady's gyarden, an' den he go co'tin' dis gal an' dat gal an'
tu'rr gal. He 'mence wid de good-lookin' ones an' wind up wid de ugly
ones, but 'twan't nair' one dat 'ud lissen to 'im, 'kase he done done so
many mean tricks an' wuz sech a hyarum-skyarum dat dey wuz all 'feared
ter tek up wid 'im, an' so dey shet de do' in his face w'en he git ter
talkin' sparky, dough dar wan't no pusson cu'd do dat sort er talkin'
mo' slicker 'n w'at he cu'd. But he done gin de creeturs jes' li'l too
much 'havishness, so 'twan't no use.

"He think de marter all over an' he say ter hisse'f: 'Dem fool gals
dunno w'at dey missin', but ef dey s'pose I gwine gin up an' stay
single, dey done fool derse'fs dis time. I ain' gwine squatulate wid 'em
ner argyfy ner beg no mo', but I gwi