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line; for he evidently had caught something that offered much more than ordinary resistance to his efforts. His struggles attracted the attention of both Barton and Ralph, who came to offer him any assistance that might be necessary.

      "Slow! steady!" said Barton.

      "Yes, yes," shouted Ichabod: "I'll have him now. Ah! here he comes—ugh! what in creation——" and in his astonishment he dropped his line, which began to make off rapidly from the boat.

      "A turtle!" exclaimed Barton, "a mud-turtle!" seizing the line, and pulling in the turtle, which would weigh eight or ten pounds. "You have triumphed at last, Jenkins. Nobody else has caught a turtle to-day—and so large a one, too. It is a real victory—another Saratoga," and he laughed so heartily that Ichabod showed some symptoms of getting angry.

      "Con-found the victory, Squire," said he, "I'll tell you what, Squire, I don't handle them traps any more. If you want to see slaughter among your bears and wolves, bring 'em on: but I've got through with this cussed business, any how."

      "But, without jesting, Jenkins," said Barton, "that turtle is worth more for eating than all the fish we've got here—their meat is delicious; and I prize them highly."

      "If that's so, Squire," said Ichabod, "you're entirely welcome to it. The varmint! I've seen 'em down in the settlements: but I never heerd of eating 'em, before; I'd feed 'em to Senecas."

      "They would be very thankful for them," said Barton. "It isn't every day they get a turtle like this."

      The lines were all taken in, and as they were now sufficiently wearied, the boat was paddled towards the shore, where Sambo was waiting to receive the fish.

      "Golly!" said the negro, grinning "who caught dis ere fellar? he! he! he!" pointing towards the turtle.

      "I caught that varmint!" replied Ichabod, gravely.

      "Guess massa Jenkins let he bait die," said Sambo. "Dose fellars don't bite like pickerel, no how. How massa Jenkins manage?"

      "Manage! you black devil," said Ichabod, angrily, "I'll feed you to him, if you ask any more questions."

      Ralph and Barton were very much amused at Ichabod's discomfiture, which did not at all pacify him; but the party proceeded towards the cottage, Sambo being careful to keep out of Ichabod's way; but many were the grins which he made at his expense, behind his back. Ichabod gave up the idea of ever being a fisherman; but, as he seemed to be extremely sensitive on that subject, neither Ralph nor Barton saw fit to make any particular allusion to it.

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