himself. While Frank was reloading, Archie came up, and stood leaning on
his gun, with rather a dejected air. "What's the matter with you?"
inquired Frank.

"I wish I was down to the river," answered Archie.

"What would you do there? go fishing?"

"No, but I'd sink this musket so deep that no one would ever find it
again. It don't shoot worth a row of pins. If I was standing twenty feet
from the side of a barn, I couldn't hit it, I wish I had my shot-gun
here."

"So do I," answered Frank; "I would very soon bring down that squirrel.
I'm going to try him again;" and going around to the side of the tree
where the squirrel had taken refuge, he fired again, but with no better
success. The squirrel, not in the least injured, appeared amid a shower of
leaves, and speedily found a new hiding-place.

"It's no use, I tell you," said Archie; "you can't hit any thing with that
musket."

"It does look a little that way. But I must have that squirrel, if I have
to shoot all day. Haven't you got a load in your gun?"

"Yes; but I might as well have none. I can kill as many squirrels by
throwing the musket at them, as I can by shooting at them."

"Never mind, fire away--the ammunition doesn't cost us any thing."