labor when I was 'leven. Ya-as, Miss! Had to work for me an' marm.

"And marm worked, too. One day I started for Drownville with a big
bundle of aperns marm had sewed for Mis' Juneberry that kep' store at
Drownville. She got two bits a dozen for makin' them aperns, I
remember. Wal, it was a wilder country then than it is now, and I
never see a soul, nor heard the sound of an axe in walking four
miles. Just at the end o' them four miles," continued Long Jerry, his
eyes twinkling, "there was a turn in the road. I swung around it--I
was travelin' at a good clip--and come facin' up an old she b'ar
which riz up on her hind laigs an' said: 'How-d'-do, Jerry Todd!'
jest as plain as ever a bear spoke in its e-tar-nal life!

"Why," said Long Jerry, almost choking with his own laughter, "by
the smile on thet thar b'ar's face and the way she spread her arms
wide to receive me, it was plain enough how glad she was ter see me."

"I should think you'd have been scared to death!" gasped Ruth,
looking down at him.

"Wal, I calculate I was some narvous. I was more narvous in them
days than I be now. Hadn't seen so much of the world. And sure hadn't
seen so much o' b'ars," cackled Jerry. "Not bein' used to b'ar
sassiety I natcherly balked when that ol' she b'ar appeared so
lovin'. I had pretty nigh walked right into her arms and there wasn't
much chance to make any particular preparations. Fact was, I didn't
have nothin' with me more dangerous than a broken jack-knife, and I
don't know how it might strike you, Miss, but to me that didn't seem
to be no implement with which to make a b'ar's acquaintance."