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Breakfast over he' makes all necessary preparations for
the hunt, and soon comes forth with gun in hand. As he
passes through the town, his friends try to "make merry"
"How many deers do you expect to kill?"
"Don't you want sonde help to bring your game home?"
• But the Professor does not care. He answers them in
jovial repartee, and passes on into the open country with
vigor in his step and expectation in his heart.
'Tis nearly noon. The Professor has trudged about all.
the morning without an opportunity to kill even the strength
of his powder, He has seen plenty of game; but somehow
it has always disappeared just before he was ready to shoot.
And now 'tis time to start for home, and lie finds himself
.tired, exasperated, cold and hungry with nothing to repay
him for his pains. It has certainly been a dreary morning
But it is an ill wind, indeed, that does not blow some
good; and the Fates have beed kinder to him than he sup
poses. If he but knew how some of the students loaded his
gun last night, he would not be so anxious to shoot.
"But where ignorance is bliss, 'tis folly to be wise," and so
he is blaming the Fates for such ill luck..
At last, weary of the chase, he starts for home. lie
recalls with a bitter smile, the jests of his friends; and it
disturbs the complacence of his mind. He wonders what
they will say when he returns; and the thought makes him
provoked,—it is none of their business, and he thinks he will
tell them so. But how far is it to the College? He had no
idea he had come so far. Tramp, tramp, tramp, up hill
and down, through underbrush and bushes, over rocks and
fallen tree-trunks, while the rustling leaves chant in a mon-
Were the Fates Unkind.