And you’d better have her fetch in some food for the missie, an’ all. "Of course," responded the widow, heaving a deep sigh. I swore I would bring your husband to the gallows,—would plunge you in such want, such distress, that you should have no alternative but the last frightful resource of misery,—and I also swore, that if you had a son he should share the same fate as his father. But to draw the attention of the milice, no, that is not at all desirable. ” An awkward moment of silence followed. “Does a bear shit in the woods?” He said.
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