I thinks of my gun; an' then I lets go all
bolts to go an' get it. Shore, I falls outen the tree; thar ain't no
time to descend slow an' dignified.
"'As I comes crashin' along through them beech boughs, it inculcates
a misonderstandin' among the dogs. Andrew Jackson, Thomas Benton an'
the others is convoked about that tree on a purely coon theery. They
expects me to knock the coon down to 'em. They shorely do not expect
me to come tumblin' none myse'f. It tharfore befalls that when I
makes my deboo among 'em, them canines, blinded an' besotted as I
say with thoughts of coon, prounces upon me in a body. Every dog
rends off a speciment of me. They don't bite twice; they perceives
by the taste that it ain't no coon an' desists.
"'Which I don't reckon their worryin' me would have become a
continyoous performance nohow; for me an' the dogs is hardly tangled
up that a-way, when we're interfered with by the b'ar. Looks like
the example I sets is infectious; for when I lets go, the b'ar lets
go; an' I hardly hits the ground an' becomes the ragin' center of
interest to Andrew Jackson, Thomas Benton an' them others, when the
b'ar is down on all of us like the old Cumberland on a sandbar
doorin' a spring rise.
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