icer.

Soon she returned, bearing in her arms a number of bright shiny new
guns. The children crowded around in glee and soon all were supplied
with weapons except little Frank who of course was too young to use a
gun and was given a two-gallon jug of nice, old whisky to carry. Jed
hitched up old Taylor, the faithful farm horse, and as quick as you
could say Jack Robinson the little ones had piled into the old carryall.
Round Mr. Sun was just peeping over the Purple Hills when the merry
little party started on its way, singing and laughing at the prospect of
the day's sport.

"I bet I kill five Revenue Officers," said little Edgar.

"Ha Ha Ha--you boaster, you," laughed Aunt Polly. "You will be lucky if
you kill two, for I fear they will be hard to find today."

"Oh do you think so, Aunt Polly?" said little Elinor and she began to
cry, for Elinor dearly loved to shoot.

"Hush dear," said Miss Pinkwood with a kindly pat, for she loved her
little charges and it hurt her to see them unhappy. "I was only joking.
And now children I will tell you a story."

"Oh goody goody," cried they all. "Tell us a true story."

"All right," said Aunt Polly. "I shall tell you a true story," and she
began.

"Once there was a brave handsome man--"

"Mr. Welsbach," cried the children with one voice, for it was well
known in the neighborhood that Aunt Polly had long been sweet on Julius
Welsbach, the popular superintendent of the Sabbath School and the best
whisky maker for miles around.

"Hush children," said Aunt Polly blushing in vexation. "Of course not.
And if you interrupt me I shall not tell my story at all." But she was
not really angry.

"And one day this brave handsome man was out making whisky and he had
just sampled some when he looked up and what do you suppose he saw?"

"Snakes," cried little Elmer whose father had often had delirium
tremens, greatly to the delight of his children.

"No, Elmer," said Miss Pinkwood, "not snakes."

"Pink lizards," cried little Esther, Elmer's sister.

"No," said Aunt Polly, with a hearty laugh, "he saw a--stranger. And
what do you suppose the stranger had?"

"A snoot full," chorused the Schultz twins. "He was pie-eyed."

"No," replied Miss Pinkwood laughing merrily. "It was before noon. Guess
again children. What did the stranger have?"

"Blind staggers," suggested little Faith whose mother had recently been
adjudged insane.

"Come children," replied Aunt Polly. "You are not