"If so, spare me, for it's an old one." "It's much older HISTORY, Mr.Gunn," said Uncle Sylvester blandly, "which I remember from a boy.

When the first Flint traded near Sault Sainte Marie, the Canadian voyageurs literally translated his name into Pierre a Fusil, and he went by that name always.

But when the English superseded the French in numbers and language the name was literally translated back again into 'Peter Gunn,' which his descendants bear." "A labored form of the old joke," said Gunn, turning contemptuously away.
"But the story," said Cousins Jane and Emma.

"The story of the gold discovery--never mind the names." "Excuse me," said Uncle Sylvester, placing his hand in the breast of his coat with a delightful exaggeration of offended dignity.

"But, doubts having been cast upon my preliminary statement, I fear I must decline proceeding further." Nevertheless, he smiled unblushingly at Miss Du Page as he followed Gunn from the room.
The next morning those who had noticed the strained relations of Miss Kitty and Mr.Gunn were not surprised that the latter was recalled on pressing business to New York by the first train; but it was a matter of some astonishment to Gabriel Lane and Marie du Page that Uncle Sylvester should have been up early, and actually accompanied that gentleman as far as the station! Indeed, the languid explorer and gold-seeker exhibited remarkable activity, and, clad in a rough tourist suit, announced, over the breakfast-table, his intention of taking a long tramp through the woods, which he had not revisited since a boy.