brother, he didn't know anything about him, and I suppose really imagined that the bear had got him.
"But the baby had crawled into a snug place under the side of the rain-trough, and there he was fast asleep all the while. Then he woke up two or three hours after, and the mother heard him cry; her husband was far away on the hunt.
"True,--this story I've told you?" added the one-eyed hostler, as some one questioned him. "Every word of it!"
"But your name is Rush, isn't it?" I said.
The one eye twinkled humorously.
"My name is Rush. My uncle's brother-in-law was my own father."
"And you?" exclaimed a bystander.
"I," said the one-eyed hostler, "am the very man who warn't eaten by the bear when I was a baby!"
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
We crown the unconscious brew with wreath of bays We press in pulseless hands the sweetest flowers. When all unneeded any grace of ours We find a voice for all the loving praise For which, p