in a half
whisper.

"It's only his fun," said Billy; "I know him."

"It may be fun," said the other, "but it looks mightily like yearnest to
a man up a tree."

I now, of course, determined to reverse the mode of firing, and put
forth all my physical energies to raise Soap-stick to the mark. The
effort silenced Billy, and gave tongue to all his companions. I had just
strength enough to master Soap-stick's obstinate proclivity, and,
consequently, my nerves began to exhibit palpable signs of distress with
her first imperceptible movement upward. A trembling commenced in my
arms; increased, and extended rapidly to my body and lower extremities;
so that, by the time that I had brought Soap-stick up to the mark, I was
shaking from head to foot, exactly like a man under the continued action
of a strong galvanic battery. In the meantime my friends gave vent to
their feelings freely.

"I swear poin' blank," said one, "that man can't shoot."

"He used to shoot well," said another; "but can't now, nor never could."

"You better git away from 'bout that mark!" bawled a third, "for I'll be
dod darned if Broadcloth don't give some of you the dry gripes if you
stand too close thare."

"The stranger's got the peedoddles," said a fourth, with humorous
gravity.

"If he had bullets enough in his gun, he'd shoot a ring round the
bull's-eye big as a spinning wheel," said a fifth.

As soon as I found that Soap-stick was high enough (for I made no
farther use of the sights than to ascertain this fact), I pulled
trigger, and off she went. I have always found that the most creditable
way of relieving myself of derision was to heighten it myself as much as
possible. It is a good plan in all circles, but by far the best which
can be adopted among the plain, rough farmers of the country.
Accordingly, I brought old Soap-stick to an order with an air of
triumph; tipped Billy a wink, and observed, "Now, Billy, 's your time to
make your fortune. Bet 'em two to one that I've knocked out the cross."

"No, I'll be dod blamed if I do," said Billy; "but I'll bet you two to
one that you hain't hit the plank."

"Ah, Billy," said I, "I was joking about _betting_, for I never bet; nor
would I have you to bet: indeed, I do not feel exactly right in shooting
for beef; for it is a species of gaming at last: but I'll say this much:
if that cross isn't knocked out, I'll never shoot for beef again as long
as I live."

"By dod," said Mealy Whitecotto