said. "Now, you haven't got
much religion, and never jined, but you give thanks to the Lord quite
often. When you are happy, and enjoying yourself, and smile and
laugh, you are unconsciously thanking the Ruler for making things so
comfortable. All pleasure is made possible by a higher power, and all
you got to do is to feel grateful, same as you would to me if I gave you
a dollar, and there you are. You just be square, and do business on the
golden rule plan, and you have got a heap more religion than some people
who are Matting about all the time. I just thought I would paralyze you
kids by showing you that I was all wool, and wanted the Lord to keep tab
on us, and know that we appreciated good health, and all that. Now, you
go to school, and don't say anything to that blue-eyed teacher of yours
that you have nominated me for President. I don't want to get girls
after me, thinking they will be mistress of the White House," and the
old man took his gun and went down into the marsh looking for snipe.

CHAPTER XXII.

Uncle Ike had been reading the morning paper, as he sat before the grate
fire, in the sitting room, while the red-headed boy was using a slate
and pencil trying to figure out something to make it match the answer
as given in the arithmetic, and having guessed the answer right he was
drawing a picture of Uncle Ike and his pipe, and occasionally wetting
his finger in his mouth and rubbing out some feature of the old man that
didn't suit. He had the old man pictured in a football costume of padded
trousers, nose guard, ear guard, knee pads, and all the different things
used in football, and when he showed the picture to Uncle Ike, that old
citizen sighed, though he looked a bit pleased that he should be the
study of so eminent an artist. Uncle Ike had been reading that there was
to be a football game that afternoon, between the State university
and Beloit college, and he wanted to go like a dog, but he had abused
football so much that he was ashamed to speak of going.

"I hope you are not interested in that disreputable game," said
Uncle Ike, knocking the ashes out of his pipe on the andirons of the
fireplace. "I hope you don't want to go and see respectable boys maimed
and killed, and knocked down and dragged out, and sandbagged, and
brained. I have seen a bull fight in Mexico, but I never want to see
anything as bloody as a football game," and the old man winked to
himself, and filled the pipe.

"Oh,