Chapter XCIX

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Let 'em go right out in the _woods_
with Doc, and leave their "traps"
And blame glass-balls and queensware-goods,
and see how Sifers draps
A squirrel out the tallest tree.--
And 'fore he fires he'll say
Jes where he'll hit him--yes, sir-_ee_!
And he's hit thataway!