by ye 'member me a-tellin' ye that story, Squire, an' you a-tellin'
me right in my teeth th't ye know'd th't some o' yer friends had took to
lyin', but th't ye didn't think any of 'em had it so bad ez that. But I
hain't a-holdin' no gredge, an' now I'll tell ye sumpin' that'll s'prise
ye.

"Ez I tol' ye at the time, Squire, I got the tip ten year ago this
month, th't unless somebody went up to Steve Groner's hill place an'
poured a pound or two o' lead inter a big b'ar th't had squatted on tha'
farm, th't Steve wouldn't hev no live-stock left to pervide pork an'
beef fer his winterin' over, even if he managed to keep hisself an'
fam'ly theirselfs from linin' the b'ar's innards. I shouldered my gun
an' went up to Steve's to hev some fun with bruin, an' to save Steve's
stock, an' resky him an' his folks from the rampagin' b'ar.

"'He's a rip-snorter,' Steve says to me, w'en I got thar. 'He don't
think nuthin' o' luggin' off a cow,' he says, 'an' ye don't wanter hev
yer weather eye shet w'en you an' him comes together,' he says.

"'B'ars,' I says to Steve, 'b'ars is nuts fer me, an' the bigger an'
sassier they be,' I says, 'the more I inj'y 'em,' I says, an' with that
I clim' inter the woods to show bruin th't th' wa'n't room enough here
below fer me an' him both. Tain't necessary fer me to tell o' the
half-dozen or more lively skrimmages me an' that b'ar had ez we follered
an' chased one another round an' round them woods--how he'd hide ahind
some big tree or stumps, an' ez I went by, climb on to me with all four
o' his feet an' yank an' bite an' claw an' dig meat an' clothes offen me
till I slung him off an' made him skin away to save his bacon; an' how
I'd lay the same way fer him, an' w'en he come sneakin' 'long arter me
agin, pitch arter him like a mad painter, an' swat an' pound an' choke
an' rassel him till his tongue hung out, till I were sorry for him, an'
let him git away inter the brush agin to recooperate fer the next round.
'Tain't wuth w'ile fer me to say anything 'bout them little skrimmages
'cept the last un, an' that un wa'n't a skrimmage but sumpin' that'd 'a'
skeert some folks dead in their tracks.

"Arter havin' a half-dozen or so o' rassels with this big b'ar, jist fer
fun, I made up my mind, ez 'twere gettin' late, an' ez Steve Groner's
folks was mebby feelin' anxious to hear which was gointer run the farm,
them or the b'ar, th't the next heat with bruin would be for keeps. I
guess the ol' feller h