see leaves,
white hairs, red hairs, bits of a butterfly's wing, two or three jay's
feathers, a nutshell, some tobacco, a blade or two of grass, the cup of
an acorn, or a little moss. Indeed, so strangely was it garnished that,
when asleep on the grass under the trees, a robin was once seen to hover
over him undecided as to whether she would build her nest in it, or pick
out materials to make one elsewhere.

Of uncommon intelligence, peculiarly taciturn, brave, frank, loyal, and
incapable of a bad action, his mind was of a gloomy cast; he was always
alone, he had no friends, he wanted none, and, if not hunting, reading
the Bible or muttering to himself, with his eyes fixed on the ground. He
lived like the woodcock, sad and solitary in his hole.

The peasants dreaded him, and never spoke of him but as the _Sorcier_,
the _Vieux Diable_; when naughty little children refused to learn their
letters or to go to bed, it was only necessary to threaten them with
sending for the Pere Seguin and his red dog, and the whole of the rosy
troop would scamper off to their nursery in an instant.

I need scarcely say that amongst his other perfections he was a perfect
shot--the best in the department,--and the moment he touched the
trigger death winged his charge at two hundred paces. With a single ball
from his rifle would he bring down the wild cat from the highest
branches, and cut the poor squirrels in two, stop the howl of the wolf,
or shiver the iron frontal bones of the wild boar.

In short, his gun was his joy, his friend, his mistress, his all; he
spoke to it, caressed it, rocked it on his knees as a mother would her
sick child, and took a thousand times more care of it than he would have
bestowed upon the most lovely wife, had he ever done anything so rash as
to marry. It was a singular accident that brought us acquainted; and if
I had had any respect for chronology, I should have related it before.

One day, when rambling over the mountain in search of game, I put up and
fired at a hare; she was evidently hit, and I gave chase, yet though
puss had but three legs effective I could not overtake her,

"I follow'd fast, but faster did she fly;"

at last, a bank stopped and turned her, and I was on the point of taking
possession when a large red brindled dog dashed past and anticipated my
purpose, carrying off my hare, without bestowing so much as a glance
upon me,--no, not even appearing to see that I was there. Electrified