"
"How old be you?" said the Professor.
"Wall," replied Abner, "the family Bible makes me out to be fifty-eight,
but jedgin' from the fun I've had I'm as old as Methooserlar."
This remark gave Stiles the preliminary laugh, which he always counted
upon when he told a story.
"Did yer ever meet a b'ar?" asked he, directing his remark to Quincy.
"Yes," said Quincy, "I've stood up before one many a time."
"Well, really," exclaimed Abner, "how'd yer come off?"
"Usually with considerable less money than when I went up," replied
Quincy, seeing that Abner was mystified.
"What?" said Abner. "I mean a real black b'ar, one of those big, shaggy
fellers sech as you meet in the woods down in Maine."
"Oh," said Quincy, "I was talking about an open bar, such as you find in
bar-rooms and hotels."
This time the laugh was on Abner, and he was considerably nettled by it.
"Go on, Abner, go on!" came from several voices, and thus reassured, he
continued:
"Wall, as I wuz goin' to say, I was out partridge shooting down in Maine
several years ago, and all I had with me was a fowlin' piece and a pouch
of bird shot.
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