"Why--he, he!--'twas funny, tubbesure. The old man stored his butter in a stone spring-haouse. The spring was under the floor and cooled the place nicely. Both ends of the buildin' was jest slats 'bout an inch apart, so's to let the air through but keep most critters aout. "Now, jest about the time old man Ketcham got through with Tom Hotchkiss, Tom, he discovered there was a ol' she-skunk with a young fambly in the neighborhood. 'Tain't no trick a-tall to l'arn when a polecat is located near by, ye know; all ye gotter do, as the fellers says, is ter foller yer nose--haw! haw! haw! "Tom was mad clean through when Mr. Ketcham turned him away. Didn't take him long, I vum! ter link up them skunks with his idea of vengeance--nossir!" Walky said reflectively. "And he perceeded to put his idee into practice." "What did he do, Walky?" asked Marty again. "Ye might give us a hint." "Oh, I'm gittin' to it," said the expressman placidly. "He toled them skunks into the spring-haouse. That's what he done." "How?" asked Marty, now interested, while the other listeners expressed their several opinions of the young rascal's trick. "Lard. A lard trail. Skunks love lard er any grease. Tom laid the trail to the spring-haouse and then yanked off two of the lower slats. Plenty room for the biggest skunk livin' to git through. Then he chucked a lump of grease inside, after which he skun out." "And what happened, Walky?" Janice asked. "Why, when ol' Miz' Ketcham went aout to the spring-haouse in the morning, there was Miz' Skunk an' four skunk kittens camping in the middle of the floor. She seen 'em through the slats an' didn't darest open the door." "Couldn't she frighten them out?" asked Nelson. "Schoolmaster!" said Walky, chuckling, "I'm surprised at your ignerance. Ye sartain sure don't know much about the nature of skunks." "I admit my failing," Nelson said, smiling. "I've never been much interested in skunkology." "Ye might be--an' with profit," said Walky, more briskly. "I understand their fur's wuth more'n most animals ye kin trap nowadays. "Howsomever, the skunk is 'bout the boldest critter that runs wild. Let 'em alone and they'll let you alone. But they ain't afeard of nothin' on two laigs or four--or that flies in the air, neither. When ye see a skunk in the path, go 'round it." "We do," chuckled Marty. "He's got right of way." "An' don't never try to chase one or poke one--'nless ye have a mighty long pole," said Walky Dexter. "Miz' Ketcham, she knowed that. The skunk an' her four kittens was camped in that spring-haouse an' they seemed to like it. No way of coaxin' 'em aout and there was two hunder' pound o' June butter in the place." "Oh!" exclaimed Janice. "Dear suz!" was Aunt 'Mira's comment. "Why didn't they shoot 'em?" "Huh!" grunted Uncle Jason.