Village Squire, 1975-11, Page 14In the attic was a wash stand which had a single drawer. The
drawer held all sorts of things stowed away and forgotten. There
was a snuff box with a little snuff in it. He tested it up his nose
and got instant acton. There were some old straight razors in
their cases. There was an old letter sealed wtih wax and a stick of
wax unused for fifty years. In one corner was a folded paper with
thin writing on it and what looked like a map of buried treasure
but when Jimmy opened it the paper said...
"Sold to Wm. Parsons, 30 bus. oats, $6.00 paid," and the map
was just a water stain.
But the drawer had a secret smell, an old and knowing smell
like all of Grandpa's house. It was a house that had seen things. It
stood secure and confident like a place that had always been
there and always would be there. J immy's home in the city was
part of a place built of glass and steel, things which should last
forever. Grandpa's house was wood already mouldering yet it
seemed that it would live on when glass and steel had
disappeared.
There were mysterious places in it like the drawer, odd corners
that might conceal secret passages. Some time he would explore
them. Right now he had what he needed, the old brass telescope
lying at the back of the drawer.
With the telescope he watched as the cubs tumbled about in
front of the den. Sometimes mother played with them sometimes
the father but both old ones were seldom there together. He
could see the difference in the pups now. One was larger and
sturdy probably a male, the other two were finer boned, likely
females.
sorts of indignities. The pups bit his ears and pulled his tail. They
played king of the castle on his head as he lay there.
The mother allowed little of this nonsense. She nursed them
patiently but there was discipline, a brisk cuff on the head or a
nip on the behind.
Jimmy tried to get closer to the den, he crawled down through
the hollow and through the swamp in the low part, wriggling
along on his stomach. He couldn't very well crawl through the
creek so he got up on hands and knees. No sooner had he done
this than there was a sharp yell from the woods and the family
were gone in a second.
The next day he was back again. The pups were playing, there
was no sign of the old ones. They played until all were tired. The
two females went into the den; the male puttered about. He
snuffed through the grass, he stalked butterflies and pounced on
them. He caught a bumble -bee and was glad to let it go. J immy
could see all this through the telescope.
The pup sat down at last, he yawned and looked bored. He
scratched an ear and ran out of things to do. He went to a sandy
place where there was a shallow depression no bigger than a soup
plate. He flopped down, curled himself in a tight ring, swung tail •
over nose and went .to sleep.
Jimmy put down the glass to change position. When he looked
again he could not see the pup. Surely it hadn't gone in those few
seconds. He lowered the glass and searched the hill with naked
eye. -There was a yellowish bump that seemed to be part of the
hill. He trained the telescope on it and sure enough, there was
the fox.
Jimmy relaxed and stretched to relieve aching muscles. The
sun beamed hot on his back as he lay there half dreaming. He
would catch that pup. He would tame it and have a pet to play
with.
This time he would be careful, he would take lots of time, circle
around and come over the hill behind the den. He wouldn't be
Jimmy Parsons he would be Running Dog, the famous Indian
tracker.
Running Dog retired behind his own ridge. He trotted briskly a
quarter mile to where he could cross the valley under cover. The
running shoes turned into moccasins, the shirt and overalls
became buckskin and the famous tracker weaved smoothly
through the stunted cedars of the swamp and picked his way over
the boggy ground. He ran silently behind the other ridge. The
going was rough. He crossed a rotting rail fence and pushed a
way through a crowd of small maple saplings. Only a famous
Indian tracker could have found a way through here.
He came out near a big elm, this was his land mark. The den
should be just over the hump of the hill. He took off his jacket and
held it under an arm and crept now ever so cautiously, the climax
was approaching, impatience now would ruin everything. Slowly
12, VILLAGE SQUIRE/NOVEMBER 1975
Fantastic sayings on Men's and Ladies' leather garments.
Our low factory outlet prices are possible only because we
produce our own leathers and have garments manufactured
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ainfon
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