And if that is too artificial; oh, paint me in the back woods, with my huntin' coat on, my leggins, my cap, my belt, and my powder-horn.

Paint me with my talkin' iron in my hand, wipin' her, chargin' her, selectin' the bullet, placin' it in the greased wad, and rammin' it down.

Then draw a splendid oak openin' so as to give a good view, paint a squirrel on the tip top of the highest branch, of the loftiest tree, place me off at a hundred yards, drawin' a bead on him fine, then show the smoke, and young squire squirrel comin' tumblin' down head over heels lumpus', to see whether the ground was as hard as dead squirrels said it was.

Paint me nateral, I besech you; for I tell you now, as I told you before, and ever shall say, there is nothin' worth havin' or knowin', or hearin', or readin', or seein', or tastin', or smellin', or feelin' and above all and more than all, nothin' worth affectionin' but _Natur_..