But they're all dead, a hunderd years!" said he.

"Well, there's where you're _mustakened_!"--in reply
They heard Bud's voice, pitched sharp and thin and high.--

"An' how you goin' to _prove_ it!"

"Well, I _kin_!"
Said Bud, with emphasis,--"They's one lives in
Our garden--and I _see_ 'im wunst, wiv my
Own eyes--_one_ time I did."

"_Oh, what a lie_!"
--"'_Sh!_'"

"Well, nen," said the skeptic--seeing there
The older folks attracted--"Tell us _where_
You saw him, an' all _'bout_ him!'

"Yes, my son.--
If you tell 'stories,' you may tell us one,"
The smiling father said, while Uncle Mart,
Behind him, winked at Bud, and pulled apart
His nose and chin with comical grimace--
Then sighed aloud, with sanctimonious face,--
"'_How good and comely it is to see
Children and parents in friendship agree!_'--
You fire away, Bud, on your Fairy-tale--
Your _Uncle's_ here to back you!"

Somewhat pale,
And breathless as to speech, the little man
Gathered himself. And thus his story ran.