woods down in Maine."

"Oh," said Quincy, "I was talking about an open bar, such as you find in
bar-rooms and hotels."

This time the laugh was on Abner, and he was considerably nettled by it.

"Go on, Abner, go on!" came from several voices, and thus reassured, he
continued:

"Wall, as I wuz goin' to say, I was out partridge shooting down in Maine
several years ago, and all I had with me was a fowlin' piece and a pouch
of bird shot. In fact, I didn't have any shot left, for I'd killed 'bout
forty partridges. I had a piece of strong twine with me, so I tied their
legs together and slung 'em over my shoulder. I was jest goin' to start
for hum when I heerd the boughs crackin' behind me, and turnin' 'round I
saw--Geewhillikins!--a big black b'ar not more'n ten feet from me. I had
nothin' to shoot him with, and knew that the only way to save my life
wuz to run for it. I jest bent over and threw the partridges on the
ground, thinkin' as I did so that perhaps the b'ar would stop to eat
them, and I could git away. I started to run, but caught my toe in some
underbrush and went down ker-slap. I said all the prayers I knew in
'bout eight seconds, then got up, and started to run ag'in. Like Lot's
wife, I couldn't help lookin' back, and there wuz the b'ar flat on his
back. I went up to him kinder cautious, for I didn't know but he might
be shammin', them black b'ars are mighty cute; but, no, he wuz deader'n
a door nail. I took the partridges back to town, and then a party on us
came back and toted the b'ar home."

Every one sat quietly for a moment, then Quincy asked with a sober face,
"What caused the bear's death; was it heart disease?"

"No," said Abner, "'twas some sort of brain trouble. Yer see, when I
threw those partridges onter the ground it brought a purty powerful
strain onto my galluses. When we cut the b'ar up we found one of my
pants buttons right in the centre of his brain."

Abner's story was greeted with those signs of approval that were so dear
to his heart, and Quincy, realizing that when you are in Rome you must
do as the Romans do, was not backward in his applause.

All eyes were now turned to the Professor.

"I don't think," said he, "that I can make up a lie to match with those
that have jist been told, but if any of you are enough interested in the
truth to want to listen to a true story, I kin tell you one that came
under my observation a few days ago."

All looked inquiringly at Strout, but non