He smiled sarcastically, showing his glorious wealth of mouth, but still sat there as though he had stuck his tail into the door-steps and couldn't get it out.

So I waived the formality of going in at the front door, and went around to the portcullis, on the off side of the house, but Kosciusko was there when I arrived. The cook, seeing a stranger lurking around the manor-house, encouraged Kosciusko to come and gorge himself with a part of my leg, which he did. Acting on this hint I went to the barn.

I do not know why I went to the barn, but somehow there was nothing in the house that I wanted. When a man wants to be by himself there is no place like a good, quiet barn for thought. So I went into the barn, about three feet prior to Kosciusko.

Noticing the stairway, I ascended it in an aimless kind of way, about four steps at a time. What happened when we got into the haymow I do not now recall, only that Kosciusko and I frolicked around there in the hay for some time. Occasionally I would be on the top, and then he would have all the delegates, until finally I got hold of a pitchfork, and freedom shrieked when Kosciusko fell. I wrapped myself up in an old horse-net and went into the house. Some of my clothes were afterwards found in the hay, and the doctor pried a part of my person out of Kosciusko's jaws, but not enough to do me any good.

I have owned, in all, eleven dogs, and they all died violent deaths, and went out of the world totally unprepared to die.

Bill Nye.

Er a hawk away up there,
'Pearantly froze in the air!-

Hear the old hen squawk, and squat
Over every chick she's got,

Suddent-like !-And she knows where
That air hawk is, well as you !--

You jes' bet yer life she do!—
Eyes a-glittering like glass
Waitin' till he makes a pass!

V.

Pee-wees' singin', to express
My opinion, 's second-class,
Yit you'll hear 'em more er less;
Sapsucks gettin' down to biz,
Weedin' out the lonesomeness;
Mr. Bluejay, full o' sass,

In those base-ball clothes o' his,
Sportin' 'round the orchard jes'
Like he owned the premises!

Sun out in the field kin sizz,
But flat on yer back, I guess,
In the shade's where glory is!
That's jes' what I'd like to do
Stiddy fer a year er two!

VI.

Plague! ef they aint sompin' in
Work 'at kindo' goes agin
My convictions !-'long about

Here in June especially ! —
Under some old apple-tree

Jes' a-restin' through and through,

I could git along without

Nothin' else at all to do
Only jes' a-wishin' you
Was a-gettin' there like me,
And June was eternity!

VII.

Lay out there and try to see
Jes' how lazy you kin be!-
Tumble round and souse yer head
In the clover-bloom, er pull

Yer straw hat acrost yer eyes,
And peek through it at the skies,
Thinkin' of old chums 'ats dead,
Maybe, smilin' back at you

In betwixt the beautiful

Clouds o' gold and white and blue !Month a man kin railly love

June, you know, I'm talkin' of!

VIII.

March ain't never nothin' new!

Aprile's altogether too

Brash fer me! and May-I jes'

'Bominate its promises,

Little hints o' sunshine and

Green around the timber-land

A few blossoms, and a few
Chip-birds, and a sprout er two-
Drap asleep, and it turns in

'Fore daylight and snows agin!—

But when June comes-Clear my throat

With wild honey! Rench my hair.

In the dew! and hold my coat!