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JOE WAYRING AT HOME.

woods out of sight of every body. He knew of anglers and hunters who affected that style, and they could follow it, if they wanted to, but he wouldn't. Leggings and gaiters were easier to walk in than heavy boots, and whole clothes looked better than shabby ones.

Placing the lamp on the table Joe began bustling about the kitchen, and in a very few minutes the fire was started and the tea-kettle filled. Then he threw back the cloth before spoken of, revealing a substantial lunch, a liberal portion of which he proceeded to pack away in the creel.

About the time the coffee was ready, the door opened again, and Uncle Joe came in. He, too, was dressed for the woods, and curried a rod of some sort in one hand and a creel in the other. The latter must have been a fine looking article in his day, but how he was as weather-beaten as any old sailor. And that was not to be wondered at, for he had traveled much, and had seen many hardships. He had accompanied his master from one end of the country to the other. He had held captive for him many a nice breakfast of