Baby Pitcher's Trials - Part 8
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Part 8

"Fifty cents for a big one."

"Is that so?"

"Well, it is."

"I am very glad you told me," said Bertie.

"It is a little thing worth knowing," returned Jack. "Never caught a pole-cat, I take it."

"I never caught anything," said Bertie.

"Seen 'em?"

"I don't know that ever I did."

"Smelt 'em?"

Bertie confessed that he had no acquaintance whatever with the animal, but mentioned that once they found a skunk in Charley's chicken-house sucking eggs, and they killed it.

"Him's um," said Jack.

"Oh!"

"Didn't cook it, I suppose."

"Cook it!"

"Yes."

"What for?"

"Eat, of course."

Bertie could not conceal his disgust.

"You needn't turn up your nose at _him_," continued Jack. "Good eating _he_ is. Tender as a sucking pig, and tastes so nigh like I'd stump _you_ to tell the difference."

Jack was going to say "tender as a chicken," but he remembered the calico and so avoided the use of the word.

"I am sure you are joking," declared Bertie.

"Not a bit of it," said Jack. "I wouldn't ask for a better dinner. The critter is like some other folks, not half so bad as you try to make him out. He has got a bad name, and that is the worst thing there is about him."

"Except his odor."

"That's not so bad either after you get used to it."

"Ugh!"

"Musquash is no better, if they do pay a good price for it."

"Do they?"

"They do. To make scent of for the ladies. One of them little bags will make gallons and gallons, they say. I know a man that buys all he can get. There you are! A heap better off than you was before. I reckon that trap will hold a musquash next time it catches one."

"Thank you," said Bertie.

"And if the spring don't happen to kill him, just touch him on the head with a stone. A little tap will do it, for he is mighty tender about the head."

Bertie said "Thank you" again, and Jack helped him bait and set the trap, and this time a deadly snare was laid for the musk-rat. Bertie was late to breakfast. Charley looked up inquiringly as he walked in and took his seat at the table; but Bertie had not a word of explanation to offer. Charley had laughed at him so often that he meant to keep his own counsel till the game was sure; but he could not help showing in his face that something unusual had happened.

"Catch anything?" said Charley.

"No."

"Trap sprung?"

"No."

"Nothing in it, eh?"

"No."

"I thought so."

Bertie laughed as he considered how _very_ empty the trap was.

"What are you laughing at?"

"I was thinking," said Bertie.

"Meet anybody up there?"

"One fellow."

"Who?"

"Jack Midnight."

"What was he doing?"

"Looking round."

"Give you any of his impudence?"

"No. He was very civil and obliging. He offered to fix the spring of my trap."

"You didn't let him?"