adventures of the district, were related over again. Each tried
to surpass his neighbor. To hear these men of position boast of their
gallantries with all classes, one would have thought that the entire
canton underwent periodical changes and became one vast Saturnalia,
where rustic satyrs courted their favorite nymphs. But nothing came of
it, after all; once the feast was digested, and they had returned to the
conjugal abode, all these terrible gay Lotharios became once more
chaste and worthy fathers of families. Nevertheless, Julien, who was
unaccustomed to such bibulous festivals and such unbridled license of
language, took it all literally, and reproached himself more than ever
with having yielded to Claudet's entreaties.

At last the table was deserted, and the marking of the limits of the
hunt began.

As they were following the course of the trenches, the notary stopped
suddenly at the foot of an ash-tree, and took the arm of the collector,
who was gently humming out of tune.

"Hush! Collector," he whispered, "do you see that fellow up there, on
the fork of the tree? He seems to be jeering at us."

At the same time he pointed out a squirrel, sitting perched upon a
branch, about halfway up the tree. The animal's tail stood up behind
like a plume, his ears were upright, and he had his front paws in his
mouth, as if cracking a nut.

"A squirrel!" cried the impetuous Boucheseiche, immediately falling into
the snare; "let no one touch him, gentlemen--I will settle his account
for him."

The rest of the hunters had drawn back in a circle, and were exchanging
sly glances. The collector loaded his gun, shouldered it, covered the
squirrel, and then let go.

"Hit!" exclaimed he, triumphantly, as soon as the smoke had dispersed.

In fact, the animal had slid down the branch, head first, but, somehow,
he did not fall to the ground.

"He has caught hold of something," said the notary, facetiously.

"Ah! you will hold on, you rascal, will you?" shouted Boucheseiche,
beside himself with excitement, and the next moment he sent a second
shot, which sent the hair flying in all directions.

The creature remained in the same position. Then there was a general
roar.

"He is quite obstinate!" remarked the clerk, slyly.

Boucheseiche, astonished, looked attentively at the tree, then at the
laughing crowd, and could not understand the situation.

"If I were in your place, Collector," said Claudet, in an insinuating
man