vour--for this is evidently the
purpose that has brought him forth from his lair.

He appeals more especially to the older of the girls--Marian.

"Ho, Wolf! I see your sides are thin, old fellow: you want your
breakfast! What can we give him, Lil?"

"Indeed, sister, I know not: there is nothing for the poor dog."

"There is some deer-meat inside?"

"Ah! I fear father will not allow Wolf to have that. I heard him say
he expected one to take dinner with him to-day? You know who?"

An arch smile accompanies this half-interrogatory; but, for all that,
the words do not appear to produce a pleasant effect. On the contrary,
a shade is observable on the brow of her to whom they are addressed.

"Yes, I _do_ know. Well, he shall not dine with _me_. 'Tis just for
that I've brought out my rifle. To-day, I intend to make my dinner in
the woods, or go without, and that's more likely. Never fear, Wolf! you
shall have your breakfast; whether I get my dinner or not. Now, for the
life of me, Lil, I don't know what we can give the poor brute. Those
buzzards are just within range. I could bring one of _them_ down; but
the filthy creatures, ugh! even a dog won't eat them."

"See, sister! yonder is a squirrel. Wolf will eat squirrels, I know:
but, ah! it's a pity to kill the little creature."

"Not a bit. Yon little creature is a precious little thief; it's just
been at our corn-crib. By killing it, I do justice in a double sense: I
punish the thief, and reward the good dog. Here goes!"

The squirrel, scared from its depredation on the corn, sweeps nimbly
over the ground towards the nearest tree. Wolf having espied it, rushes
after in headlong pursuit. But it is a rare chance indeed when a dog
captures one of these animals upon the ground; and Wolf, as usual, is
unsuccessful.

He has "treed" the squirrel; but what of that? The nimble creature,
having swooped up to a high limb, seats itself there, and looks down
upon its impotent pursuer with a nonchalant defiance--at intervals more
emphatically expressing the sentiment by a saucy jerk of its tail. But
this false security proves the squirrel's ruin. Deceived by it, the
silly animal makes no effort to conceal its body behind the branch; but,
sitting upright in a fork, presents a fair mark to the rifle. The girl
raises the piece to her shoulder, takes aim, and fires.

The shot tells; and the tiny victim, hurled from its high perch--after
making several somers