for his own use; and when Billy, here,"--patting
his gun,--"brings down a fat buck, we feel _honest_ about it--don't
we, Bill? 'Tisn't like standing behind the counter with a smerk on yer
face, as yer cheat in weight an' measure, or sell sanded sugar for the
genuine. Many an' many's the time I've known this done, by them that
lives in fine houses, and wears fine clothes, an' goes reg'lar to
church; an' if they passed Joseph Jones, wouldn't deign to speak to
the old hunter. Not that I care about that; I don't deign to speak to
them; and if heaven is for _them_, I had just as lieves stay a while
outside, for they an' I could never git along together here, and we
couldn't be expected to there. But did you want anything perticular of
me?"

"I was told," said the missionary, "that none of the settlers
understood so well about the land, and where to find the section and
quarter section stakes as you; and I thought, if it wouldn't be taking
too much of your time, that perhaps you would show me around a
little."

"Nothin' would suit my feelings better," said the hunter. "Was there
any perticular direction you wish to go to?"

"Brother Smith tells me that here is a fine quarter section still
unclaimed;" and the clergyman took from his note-book a
roughly-sketched map of the vicinity, purporting to show what
was taken up and what was not.

"Did he give you _that_?" asked the hunter, as he ran his eye over the
paper.

"Yes; as looking up land is new to me, I was thankful to get some sort
of a guide," replied the missionary.

"I don't see much to be thankful for on that drawin'."

"Why, isn't that quarter section free?" inquired the minister,
perplexed.

"Yes; an' we'll go an' see it. But are yer goin' afoot?"

The missionary replied affirmatively.

"You'll never stand it in the world, to hunt up land in that way--too
much ground to go over. Wife," he added, putting his head in at the
door, "you jist entertain the minister, while I see if I ken scare up
a team fur him."

Mr. Jones strode off as if he had a congenial errand to do, and
striking a "bee line" across the prairie, over a river, through a
grove, halted before a cosy cottage that would remind one of New
England. The acres and acres of tilled land stretched away from the
dwelling, enclosed in the most substantial manner, and sleek cattle,
that fed in the rich pasture, bespoke competency and enterprise. He
stopped not to knock at the door, but entering, aske