"
"Hold on, John;" and Mr. Isaac Brown got up from the log where he had
just sat down to rest, and went to the ledge, and looked carefully all
about. When he came back he was much excited, and beckoned his friend
away, speaking in a stage whisper.
"I guess you'll see a coon before you're much older," he proclaimed.
"I've thought it looked lately as if there'd been one about my place,
and there's plenty o' signs here, right in their old haunts. Couple o'
hens' heads an' a lot o' feathers"--
"Might be a fox," interrupted John York.
"Might be a coon," answered Mr. Isaac Brown. "I'm goin' to have him,
too. I've been lookin' at every old hollow tree I passed, but I never
thought o' this place. We'll come right off to-morrow night, I guess,
John, an' see if we can't get him. 'Tis an extra handy place for 'em to
den; in old times the folks always called it a good place; they've been
so sca'ce o' these late years that I've thought little about 'em.
Nothin' I ever liked so well as a coon-hunt. Gorry! he must be a big old
fellow, by his tracks! See here, in this smooth dirt; just like a baby's
footmark."
"Trouble is, we lack a good dog," said John York anxiously, after he had
made an eager inspection. "I don't know where in the world to get one,
either. There ain't no such a dog about as your Rover, but you've let
him get spoilt; these days I don't see him leave the yard. You ought to
keep the women folks from overfeedin' of him so.
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