guage when he was a mind to, and lay them before yon without a jint started, anywheres. Yes, he said he used to live up at the head of this bend, and one night he choked his child, which was crying, not intending to kill it,—which was prob'ly a lie,—and then he was
"GRABED THE LITTLE CHILD." scared, and buried it in a bar'l, before his wife got home, and off he went, and struck the northern trail and went to rafting; and this was the third year that the bar'l had chased him. He said the bad luck always begun light, and lasted till four men was killed, and then the bar'l did n't come any more after that. He said if
the men would stand it one more night,—and was a-going on like that,—but the men had got enough. They started to get out a boat to take him ashore and lynch him, but he grabbed the little child all of a sudden and jumped overboard with it hugged up to his breast and shedding tears, and we never see him again in this life, poor old suffering soul, nor Charles William neither."
"Who was shedding tears?" says Bob; "was it Allbright or the baby?"
"Why, Allbright, of course; didn't I tell you the baby was dead? Been dead three years—how could it cry?"
"Well, never mind how it could cry—how could it keep all that time?" says Davy. "You answer me that."
