The Mountaineer . urniture followed the angered pair down the street. A disreputable baby carriage,which had hitherto led an innocent and useful life, stood in solitary grandeur on therear truck. Skinny glanced wildly about with murder in his eyes. After going abouta block, he spied a passing jitney into which the two made their escape. Pat returned to his room and began studying diligently. His face was beamingas he thought that he and his room-mate were even at last. It was with a joyousexpression that he greeted Skinny an hour later. They gazed at each other searchinglyfor a few seconds, wh
The Mountaineer . urniture followed the angered pair down the street. A disreputable baby carriage,which had hitherto led an innocent and useful life, stood in solitary grandeur on therear truck. Skinny glanced wildly about with murder in his eyes. After going abouta block, he spied a passing jitney into which the two made their escape. Pat returned to his room and began studying diligently. His face was beamingas he thought that he and his room-mate were even at last. It was with a joyousexpression that he greeted Skinny an hour later. They gazed at each other searchinglyfor a few seconds, while a Douglas Fairbankian grin slowly overspread the face ofeach. Skinny spoke first. Pat, he said, if you and I want to continue our studies atFreshwater College without a sudden, untimely interruption from our esteemed OldPrixy, we had better put an end to these practical jokes. So be it, replied Pat. hShIe *? »jp^i£j El-- >???????<&&* -^d^m It*—* .*-_/.-—ctm^BOsSH 2 ?/M_ [61]. a A Day Spent in the Woods By WORTH McKINNEY One morning Jim Fletcher and I went pheasant hunting. We filled our pocketswith apples and biscuits and started. As we turn out of the sheltered barn yard through the bars and up the farmlane, the keen wind stings us and our numb fingers recoil from the metal of our gunsand take careful grip on the wood. At once we fall to discussing the vital question,where will the birds be to-day? For the pheasants are peculiar in their choice offeeding ground. Sometimes they are in the swamps, sometimes they are among thepines, sometimes in the big woods, sometimes among the scrub growth of lately cuttimber land, and sometimes, in very cold weather, on the south side of the mountains. When I first began to hunt with Jim, he knew so much more than I in thesematters that I always accepted his judgment. If he said, To-day they will be in theswamps, I replied, To the swamp let us go. But after a time I came to have opin-ions of my own, and then the era of d
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Keywords: ., bookcentury1900, bookdecade1920, bookidmountaineer1, bookyear1920
