be excused. All t' once he bust out an' the rifle give a yell, An' I wouldn't wonder if he thought--" The narrator was halted for half a moment by another frog in his throat--as he explained. Then he went on: "An' Zeb he tore away an' took an' fastened on the bear, An' they rolled down-hill together, an' the critter ripped the air, An' I didn't dast t' shoot him for fear o' killin' Zeb, So I clubbed my rifle on the bear an' mellered up his head." Moist with perspiration, Silas Strong rose and stood by the bedside and blew. Fifty miles with a boat on his back could not have taxed him more severely. He answered a few queries touching the size, fierceness, and fate of the bear. Then he retreated, whispering as he left the door, "Strong's ahead." Zeb lay on the foot of the bed, and Socky, being a little timid in the dark, coaxed him to lie between them, his paws on the pillow. With their hands on the back of Zeb, they felt sure no harm could come to them. "Do you love Uncle Silas?" It was the question of little Sue. Socky answered, promptly, "Yes; do you?" "Yes." "Hunters don't never wear good clothes." So Socky went on, presently, as if apologizing to his own spirit for the personal appearance of his uncle. "They git 'em all tore up by the bears an' panthers." "That's how he got his pants tore," Sue suggested, thinking of his condition that day they met him on the trail. "Had a fight with a 'kunk," Socky answered, quickly. He had overheard something of that adventure at Robin Lake. They lay thinking a moment. Then up spoke the boy. "I wisht he had a gold watch." With Socky the ladder by which a man rose to greatness had many rounds. The first was great physical strength, the next physical appearance; the possession of a rifle and the sacred privilege of bathing the same in bear's-oil was distinctly another; symbols of splendor, such as watches, finger-rings, and the like, had their places in the ladder, and qualities of imagination were not wholly disregarded. Sue tried to think of something good to say--something, possibly, which would explain her love. It was her first trial at analysis. "He wouldn't hurt nobody," she suggested. "He can carry a tree on his back"--so it seemed to Socky. "He wouldn't let nothin' touch us," said Sue, still working the vein of kindness which she had discovered. "He's the most terrible powerful man in the world," Socky averred, and unconsciously twisted the soft ear of Zeb until the latter gave a little yelp of complaint. "He can kill bears an' panthers an' deers an'--an' ketch fish," said Sue. "He could swaller a whale," Socky declared, as he thought of the story of Jonah. "Aunt Sinthy has got a hole in her shoe." The girl imparted this in a whisper.