time my dogs were in full cry. We pursued them, and soon came to a
thick cane-brake in which they had stopp'd their bear. We got up close
to him, as the cane was so thick that we couldn't see more than a few
feet. Here I made my friend hold the cane a little open with his gun
till I shot the bear, which was a mighty large one. I killed him dead
in his tracks. We got him out and butchered him, and in a little time
started another and killed him, which now made ten we had killed and
we know'd we couldn't pack any more home, as we had only five horses
along; therefore we returned to the camp and salted up all our meat,
to be ready for a start homeward next morning.

The morning came and we packed our horses with the meat, and had as
much as they could possibly carry, and sure enough cut out for home.
It was about thirty miles, and we reached home the second day. I
. . . had killed in all, up to that time, fifty-eight bears, during
the fall and winter.

As soon as the time came for them to quit their houses and come out
again in the spring, I took a notion to hunt a little more, and in
about one month I had killed forty-seven more, which made one hundred
and five bears I had killed in less than one year from that
time. . . .

Motto.--Be sure you are right--then go ahead.

RICHARD HENRY WILDE.

~1789=1847.~

RICHARD HENRY WILDE was a native of Ireland but was brought to this
country when a child of nine. His father died in 1802 and the widowed
mother took up her residence in Augusta, Georgia. He studied law and
became a successful practitioner. He was Attorney-General of the
State, and served also in the Legislature and in Congress. He spent
the years 1834-40 in Europe studying chiefly Italian literature; in
his researches he discovered some old documents relating to Dante and
a portrait of him painted by Giotto on a wall which had become covered
over with whitewash. On his return to America he settled in New
Orleans and became professor of Law in the University of Louisiana. He
died there of yellow fever.

He began an epic poem, suggested by the life and adventures of his
brother, James Wilde, in the Seminole war. But it was never finished:
all that remains of it now is the fine lyric, "My Life is Like the
Summer Rose." This song was translated by Anthony Barclay into Greek
and announced to be a newly discovered ode of Alcaeus. This claim was
soon disproved by the scholars, and to Mr. Wilde was given his