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Updated: May 24, 2025
"Makes me think uh that time we had the ringtailed tiger in camp," sighed Andy Green, shaking sand out of the teakettle so that it could be refilled. "By golly, I'd ruther have a whole band uh tagers than this fighting bunch," Slim affirmed earnestly. Slim was laboring sootily with the stove-pipe which Patsy had struck askew with a stick of wood.
He was too excited over the prospect of a visit to the sugar bush and unlimited taffy to care very much, however, and went dancing along over the ghostly patches of snow and through the weird, shifting mists, his tongue keeping pace with his feet. "Don't you wish there was tagers and lions in the bush here, Uncle? I bet I'd shoot them if there was.
"Ah, chile, dat's what makes me tremble. It's bad 'nuf here, de Lo'd knows, but up dere! Why, dere's bears, an' tagers dat'll eat ye up in a jiffy. An' dere's Injuns, too, dat'll skin ye alive, an' scalp ye, an' roast ye fo' dinner. No, I kin nebber take root in a place like dat." "But we'll be pioneers, Mammy," the girl reminded.
Now, there was a man up to whom the young men could look, a reglar soldier, who had been in the fight in Africy, had lived among lions, tagers and niggers. He was a hero, an' if we could git a rale live missionary like that, he'd make Glendow hum, an' the old church 'ud be packed to the doors every Sunday. It's them missionaries who has the hard time. Oh, they're wonderful people.
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