"
Every one sat quietly for a moment, then Quincy asked with a sober face,
"What caused the bear's death; was it heart disease?"
"No," said Abner, "'twas some sort of brain trouble. Yer see, when I
threw those partridges onter the ground it brought a purty powerful
strain onto my galluses. When we cut the b'ar up we found one of my
pants buttons right in the centre of his brain."
Abner's story was greeted with those signs of approval that were so dear
to his heart, and Quincy, realizing that when you are in Rome you must
do as the Romans do, was not backward in his applause.
All eyes were now turned to the Professor.
"I don't think," said he, "that I can make up a lie to match with those
that have jist been told, but if any of you are enough interested in the
truth to want to listen to a true story, I kin tell you one that came
under my observation a few days ago."
All looked inquiringly at Strout, but none spoke.
"Wall," said he, "I s'pose I must consider as how silence means consent,
and go ahead. Wall" he continued, "you all know, or most all on yer do,
old Bill Tompkins, that lives out on the road to Montrose.
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