ows and arrows, and cross guns, likewise sling shots. My
first experience was with by bros, George and Lee in killing a
woodchuck. And from this time my adventures began to multiply. All kinds
of small animals fell before my accurate aim.

My adventursome father had crossed the great plains as early as 1846. He
was thrilled to the core with the bold and desperate experiences of the
wild western world. On his way he met and formed the acquaintance Of
several of the noted trappers and explorers, as well as the acquaintance
of the most daring and dangerous savages that ever rode the arena of the
Great American Desert.

My chief joy from in fancy was to have my father tell me his dangerous
travels and exploits in the early west. I was continually begging my
older brother to read about Kit Carson Daniel Boone and other pioneers.
At the age of seven years I took a notion that I wanted a gun. Bows and
arrows, cross-bows sling-shots knives and hatchets were too tame for me.
I sought an occasion when my father was away, to get from my mother the
needed information, how to load and discharge a gun. One day when all
were away I stole my fathers gun. It was a double barreled muzzle
loader, one barrel shot and the other rifle. I had quite an
experience--I saw a partridge just as I entered the woods budding in the
top of an old birch tree. I leveled the gun up against an old ash tree
and fired I had never before fired a gun, I held it rather loosely
aginst my shoulder and the recoil lamed my arm and bloodeyed my pug
noose. But this was soon forgotten when I saw I had plugged my meat. In
haste I began to load to prepare for another bird--I seized The patch
put mr ball on the patch took mr ramrod and rammed home the ball alas!
just as I was pounding her home I remembered I had forgotten something
quite necessary in loading a gun--it was the powder. I was in a
terrorable fix then--I first thought I would hasten home put up the gun
and let father get out of the fix the best he could. But after taking a
second thought I concluded that I would not be a whit behind the Father
of his country--but while I had stolen I could not tell a lie--so I
repeated the reckless boy's adage--Scolding don't hurt you whipping
don't last long killing they dare not"--After considering the whole
predicament--I concluded that I rather have a flogging than deny my
pluck and luck by killing my game. So I related to father my deed; he
simply laughed and took the