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Frank, the Young Naturalist by [pseud.] Harry Castlemon
page 40 of 212 (18%)
laugh.

"Do it? I _have_ done it many a time. But is there any hunting around
here?"

"Plenty of it."

"Well," continued Charles, "I walked all over the woods this morning,
and couldn't find any thing."

"It is not the season for hunting now," said George; "but in the fall
there are lots of ducks, pigeons, squirrels, and turkeys, and in the
winter the woods are full of minks, and now and then a bear or deer;
and the swamps are just the places to kill muskrats."

"I'd just like to go hunting with some of you. I'll bet I can kill
more game in a day than any one in the village."

The boys made no reply to this confident assertion, for the fact was
that they were too full of laughter to trust themselves to speak.

"I'll bet you haven't got any thing in the village that can come up to
this," continued Charles; and as he spoke he raised a light,
beautifully-finished rifle from the bottom of the boat, and held it up
to the admiring gaze of the boys.

"That is a beauty," said Harry, who wished to continue the
conversation as long as possible, in order to hear some more of
Charles's "large stories." "How far will it shoot?"

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