"Then why the devil could n't y' hear me singin' out ?" Mother thought it must have been because Dan was playing the concertina.

"Oh, DAMN his concertina!" Dad squealed, and kicked Joe's little kitten, that was rubbing itself fondly against his leg, clean through the house.
Dan found the selection pretty slow--so he told Mother--and thought he would knock about a bit.

He went to the store and bought a supply of ammunition, which he booked to Dad, and started shooting.

He stood at the door and put twenty bullets into the barn; then he shot two bears near the stock-yard with twenty more bullets, and dragged both bears down to the house and left them at the back-door.

They stayed at the back-door until they went very bad; then Dad hooked himself to them and dragged them down the gully.
Somehow, Dad began to hate Dan! He scarcely ever spoke to him now, and at meal-times never spoke to any of us.