You see, I'm a creature of the night. A what? A night person; I live during the nights, and sleep during the days.

It was entirely proper and in order to slay a deer or two while in the deer woods, and they did bring in a choice specimen or two for camp use or for friends at home. But Fernaldus was touched with ursimania. He would become an ursicide. The notion of possessing a bearskin rug pleased his fancy, and over the hill, in a tangle beside the brook, he had come across fresh signs of a monster Bruin.

“Tom told me that, but twasn't your fault, the little mite just couldn't wait to be born that's all.” A small smile played on Leah's lips.

The drover dodged hastily, seeking the protection of the big egg-stove. Hold on there! he shouted. Meb-be it's loadened.