This here,he said,is to be a red-letter day,a day plumb up in X,Y and Z.I got to take my gun and forage for some game;then I'll dress my fresh meat and have a cooking.I'll bring over some grub to keep it company.Let's see--this is plum-day,ain't it?He stood meditating,stroking his wild whiskers with a grimy hand.Oh,Lord,yes,I believe it IS plum-day!'Well,they ain't nothing the way you would have made it yourself,'says Brick,'not even though it's you as made it.'This here is plum-day,and that there can of plums will shore be opened.And having my first fire gives me a chance to open up my sack of flour;won't I hold carnival!What I feels sorry about myself is knowing how I'm going to feel after I've et all them victuals.I believe I'll take a bath,too,in that pool over yonder in the grove.Ain't I ever going to use that there soap?...But I don't say as I will.Don't seem wuth while.They ain't nobody to see me,and I feels clean insides.As I takes it,you do your washing for them as neighbors with you.If I had a neighbor!--just a dog,a little yaller dog--or some chickens to crow and cackle--

He broke off,to lean despondently on his gun.He remained thus motionless for a long time,his earth-stained garments,unkempt hair,hard dark hands and gloomy eye marking him as the only object in the bright sunshine standing forth unresponsive to nature's smile.

He started into life with a shrug of his powerful shoulders.It's just like you,Brick,to spoil a festibul-day with your low idees!Why don't you keep them idees for a rainy day?Just lay up them regrets and hankerings for the first rainy day,and then be of a piece with the heavens and earth.'If you can't stay cheerful while the sun's shining,'says Brick,'God's wasting a mighty nice big sun on YOU!'

Thus admonishing himself,and striving desperately for contentment,he strode forth from the only exit of the cove,and skirted the southern wall of the range,looking for game.It was late in the afternoon when he returned with the best portions of a deer swung over his shoulder.By this time he was desperately hungry,and the prospect of the first venison since his exile stirred his pulses,and gave to the bright scene a cheerful beauty it had not before worn to his homesick heart.He trudged up to the narrow door of the dugout which was closed,just as he had left it,and having carried a noble haunch of venison to the pool to be washed,he descended the dirt steps and set the door to one side.Without at first understanding why,he became instantly aware that some one had been there during his absence.