, an' ther home
o' ther coon. Never went coon huntin', did yer, Ted?"

"I never did."

"Well, ye've missed some mighty good fun. Down in Missouri is whar ther
coon grows wild an' independent, an' ther ain't one o' them what's come
o' age what ain't as smart as ary congressman you ever see."

"I've heard something about coon hunting," said Ted.

"It's great down in Missouri. Thar's whar ther coon trees grow."

"Vat such foolishment for?" said Carl, with a sneer. "Coons don't grow
mit trees on."

"Nobody said they could, but they live in trees, yer loony. A ole gum
tree what's holler is ther home o' ther coon. Thar's whar ther best coon
dogs come from, too. Ever hunt coons with a dog?" continued Bud.

"Never did," said Ted. "It seems too picayunish fer me. I like bigger
game than that. Besides, I don't care much fer hunting in the
nighttime."

"Do they hunt mit der coons in der nighttime?" asked Carl, who was
beginning to be interested.

"Shore! That's ther time ter tree 'em. My Uncle Fletcher out in ole
Missou, we ust ter call him ole Unc' Fletch, had four or five coon dogs
that was ther cream o' the coon-huntin' canines in several counties, an'
Unc' Fletch was out near every night chasin' coons."

"Many of them there?" asked Ted.

"Ther country was overrun with 'em. They ust ter eat all ther roastin'
ears o' corn in ther bottom lands, an' git away with more chickens than
ever those that raised 'em did, until it got so that ther farmers said
they was only raisin' corn an' chickens ter keep ther coons fat."

"No money in that."

"Not much. But I wuz goin' ter tell yer what happened ter Unc' Fletch
one night ter show how plenty coons wuz in his section.

"One night he starts out with his best coon dog, Ballyhoo, so called
because he made sech a noise when he treed a coon.

"Bally runs acrost ther scent o' a coon an' takes after it. Unc' Fletch
trails along, an' Ballyhoo stops at a big sycamore tree. But there don't
seem ter be no hole, an' after unc' looks around, an' can't find
nothin', he calls Ballyhoo off, an' they start through ther woods ag'in.

"Pretty soon Ballyhoo scents another coon, an', by jing, it leads them
ter ther same sycamore. About twenty times that night they strikes ther
scent, an' every time it stops at the same tree.

"Now, Unc' Fletch wuz some o' a woodman, an' he says it ain't nat'ral
fer ther dog ter tree so many coons at ther same place, an' wonders if
thar is somethin' wrong