the waiting line, ducking
his head, wrinkling his upper lips ingratiatingly, and sneezing in the
most apologetic tones. Finally we gave it up.

"But," we "saved our face," "you'll have to behave when we get there!"

So, as has been said, Mithradates Antikamia Briggs brought up the rear.

Arrived at the tree the whole procession drew into a half circle. We
unblocked the opening, and the Invigorator was driven to a spot beneath
it so each person could take his turn at standing on the seat and
peering down the hole. The eyes still glowed like balls of fire.

Next the dachshunds were lifted up one by one and given a chance to
smell at the game. This was to make them keen. Held up by means of a
hand held either side their chests, they curled up their hind legs and
tails and seemed to endure. Mrs. Kitty explained that they had never
been so far off the ground in their lives, and so were naturally
preoccupied by the new sensation. This sounded reasonable, so we placed
them on the ground. There they sat in a circle looking up at our
performances, a solemn and mild interest expressing itself in their
lugubrious countenances. A dachshund has absolutely no sense of humour
or lightness of spirits. He never cavorts.

By sounding carefully with a carriage whip we determined the depth of
the hole, and proceeded to cut through to the bottom. This was quite a
job, for the oak was tough, and the position difficult. Tommy had
ascended the tree, and proclaimed loudly the first signs of daylight as
the axe bit through. Mine happened to be the axe work; so when I had
finished a neat little orifice, I swung up beside Tommy, and the
Invigorator drove out of the way.

My elevated position was a good one; and as Tommy was peering eagerly
down the hole, I had nothing to do but survey the scene.

The rigs were drawn up in a semi-circle twenty yards away. Next the
horses' heads stood the drivers of the various vehicles, anxious to miss
none of the fun. The dachshunds sat on their haunches, looking up, and
probably wondering why their friend, Tommy, insisted on roosting up a
tree. The Captain and Charley were immediately below, engaged in an
earnest effort to poke the 'coon into ascending the hole. Tommy was
reporting the result of these efforts from above. The General, his feet
firmly planted, had unlimbered a huge ten-bore shotgun, so as to be
ready for anything. Uncle Jim stood by, smoking his pipe. Mithradates
Antikamia Briggs sat sadly a