Strong had begun to think of his coon, now clinging in a tree-top. Suddenly he had become too proud to try to sell him, but he could not bear to abandon his old pet. So while the others talked together he began to contrive against the dogs of Hillsborough. As he was about to leave, he asked Mrs. Wilbert where he could buy "one o' them l-little r-red guns," by which he meant a bottle of tabasco sauce. She immediately sent a servant to bring one, which the Emperor accepted with her compliments. His host went with him to a store where Strong invested some of his prize-money in "C'ris'mus presents"--so he called them--for Sinth and the "little fawns," filling his pack well above the brim. Then, forthwith, Strong proceeded to the coon's refuge, in the public park, where, with the aid of a Roman-candle, as he explained to Sinth in the privacy of their cook-tent, he made the coon "l-let go all holts." The animal had been clinging high in the old elm, and, being stunned by his fall, Strong caught and held him firmly by the nape of the neck while he covered him with an armor of liquid fire from the tabasco bottle. The fur of back and neck and shoulders had now the power to inflict misery sharper than a serpent's tooth. "D-Dick," he whispered, "Strong is 'shamed o' y-you. He c-can't 'sociate n-no more with c-coons in this v-village. But he won't let ye git t-tore up." Strong carried his coon out of the park and let him down. In Hillsborough popular enthusiasm had turned from revelry to refreshment. The crowd, having retired to home and hostelry, had left the streets nearly deserted. Strong's coon set out in the direction of the river, and soon a bull-dog laid hold of him. The dog gave the coon a shake, and began, as it were, to lose confidence. He dropped the hot-furred animal, shook his head, and tarried the tenth part of a second, as if to make a note of the coon's odor for future reference, and then ran with all speed to the river. He heeded not the call of his master or the jeering of a number of small boys. They were no more to him than the idle wind. The coon proceeded on his way to the woods. Farther on three other dogs bounded into trouble, and rushed for water. The coon passed two bridges and made his way across an open field in the direction of Turner's wood. Strong, whose hunger had not been satisfied, bought some cake and pie, and made for open country where he sat down by the road-side. Tree-tops above him were full of chattering birds, driven out of town probably by its hideous uproar. The Emperor, having appeased his hunger, took half an hour for reflection. Before the end of it came he began for the first time in his life to suffer the penalty of idleness and high living. Indigestion, the bane of towns and cities, had taken hold of him. Before leaving he made these entries in his little book: _"July the 4 "This aint no place for Strong "Man might as well be in Ogdensburg * as have Ogdensburg in him.