What the boss'll say, I don't know; but I know what I'd like ter say to ye.

I was a whole week, off an' on, gettin' hold of that crow, an' I wouldn't have got him at all if I hadn't hid half the night an' all the mornin' in that clump o' bushes, watchin' a chance ter wing him, jest enough an' not too much.

An' even then the job wa'n't done.

Let me tell yer, 't wa'n't no small thing ter get him hitched.

I'm wearin' the marks of the rascal's beak yet.