s hands, and shifting to
an easier attitude by the old man's easy-chair.

Grandpapa looked comically at Jimmy, and said, "His grandfather
replied, 'When I was a young fellow--'"

The faces of the children became woful again.

"'One rainy day I took my revolver--'"

"Revolver! Grandpapa!" cried Jenny.

"Yes, dear."

"An American revolver, grandpapa?"

"Certainly, dear."

"And did he tell the story in English?"

"Yes, pet."

"But, grandpapa, _darling_, that grandpapa was seventy-three
grandpapas back!"

"About that, my dear."

"I kept count, grandpapa."

"And don't you like good old-fashioned stories, Jenny?"

"Oh, yes, grandpapa, but _revolvers_--and _Americans_--and the
_English_ language! Why, it was more than twenty-two hundred years
ago, grandpapa, darling!"

"Ha! ha! You never thought of that, Jimmy! Oh, you've been at school,
Miss Bright-eyes! Kiss me, you little rogue. Now listen!

"When _I_ was a young fellow--"

"You yourself, grandpapa?"

"Yes, Jenny."

"I'm so glad it was you yourself! I like my _own_ grandpapa's stories
best of all."

"Thank you, my dear. After that I must be _very_ entertaining. Yes,
I'll tell my best story of all--and Jimmy has never heard it. Well,
when I was a young fellow of seventeen I was clerk in a lumber shanty
on the Sheboiobonzhe-gunpashageshickawigamog River."

"How did you _ever_ learn that name, grandpapa, darling?" cried Jenny.

"Oh, I could learn things in those days. Remembering it is the
difficulty, dear--see if it isn't. I'll give you a nice new ten-dollar
bill if you tell me that name to-morrow."

Jenny bent her brows and tried so hard to recall the syllables that
she almost lost part of the story. Grandpapa went steadily on:--

"One day in February, when it was too rainy for the men to work, and
just rainy enough to go deer-shooting if you hadn't had fresh meat for
five months, I took to the woods with my gun, revolver, hatchet, and
dinner. All the fore part of the day I failed to get a shot, though I
saw many deer on the hemlock ridges of Sheboi--that's the way it
begins, Jenny, and Sheboi we called it.

"But late in the afternoon I killed a buck. I cut off a haunch, lifted
the carcass into the low boughs of a spruce, and started for camp, six
miles away, across snowy hills and frozen lakes. The snow-shoeing was
heavy, and I feared I should not get in before dark. The Sheboi
country was infested with wolves--"

"Bully! It's a wolf sto