Boy life on the prairie . ed a great many, but succeeded from time to time inbagging one, and this one was worth a dozen shot stand-ing. Squirrels they seldom cared to carry home, butoccasionally roasted them at a camp-fire in the woods atnoon. As they grew older and wiser, they considered all the A Chapter on Prairie Game 3(^3 game of the prairie too small, and they ceased to talked of grizzly bears and buffaloes and panthersand cougars. One day in Lincolns fourteenth year hereached a decision. I kill no more hens and cats, hesaid, meaning prairie chickens and rabbits. Anybodycan go
Boy life on the prairie . ed a great many, but succeeded from time to time inbagging one, and this one was worth a dozen shot stand-ing. Squirrels they seldom cared to carry home, butoccasionally roasted them at a camp-fire in the woods atnoon. As they grew older and wiser, they considered all the A Chapter on Prairie Game 3(^3 game of the prairie too small, and they ceased to talked of grizzly bears and buffaloes and panthersand cougars. One day in Lincolns fourteenth year hereached a decision. I kill no more hens and cats, hesaid, meaning prairie chickens and rabbits. Anybodycan go out and kill these things. When I go huntingnow, its got to be wolves or foxes or bears and buffaloes;now you hear me. Lets make a compact, said Ranee. Four yearsfrom now we meet on the plains. Done ! shouted Lincoln, in the terms of the piratesusual oath. But as they knitted their fingers together and swore,there was a smile in Ranees eyes. He had a suspicionthen that neither of them would ever get out of NOVEMBER When the ground squirrel toils at gathering wheat,And the wood-doves sombre notes repeatThe story of autumns passing feet; When the cold, gray sky has a rushing breezeWhich hums in the grass like a hi\c of bees,And scatters the leaves from the roaring trees; When the corn is filled with a rising the gray crane flies on his course alone,Hastening south to the orange zone; — Then the boy on the bare, brown prairie knowsThat winter is coming with drifting snowsTo cover the grave of the dry, dead CHAPTER XXIV VISITING SCHOOLS In some way, and for some educational purpose nodoubt, there had grown up a custom of visiting the obscure origin of this custom, the visitswere considered red-letter days by the boys and thegirls. The first invasion came as a complete surpriseto Lincoln at least. One beautiful warm sunny day in midwinter — aFriday it was — he sat humped over his spelling-book,with his thumb in his ears, oblivi
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