"You see they had an awful hard winter up there last year, and the quails were all killed off." "Wall, what does the fule want to let 'em go fur, arter he's bought 'em ?" "Why, he wants to stock the country.

He belongs to a Sportsman's Club up there.

He and his friends will have a law passed keeping folks from shooting them for two or three years, and then there'll be just as many birds as there were before." "Is that the way them rich fellers does ?" "That's what Don says." "It's mighty nice to be rich, ain't it, Davy; to have all the money you want to spend, a nice hoss to ride, one of them guns what breaks in two in the middle to do your shootin' with, an' shiny boots an' a straw hat to wear to church! I wish me an' pap had found that thar bar'l with the eighty thousand dollars into it.

I wouldn't be wearin' no sich clothes as these yere." "That's all humbug," exclaimed David.

"The silver things that old Jordan buried, the spoons, knives and dishes, were all dug up again and are in use now every day.