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toward the floor.
I would take an imaginary cartridge from my belt.
“Load” – I would place it in the broom stick and close the breach.
“Aim”. The broom straw
would press to me shoulder. “Fire!” I’d hear a snap as Willis pulled the trigger
the Springfield and I’d holler Bang! We
drilled night after night. And we
learned.
I
don’t know how old I was when I got my first rifle.
Probably eight or nine. I
would spend hours looking at guns in the catalogs.
I finally found a .22 rifle in Savage for less than five dollars.
It was a Stevens “Little Scout”.
The
folks intended to buy me an air rifle but with Willis’ help we talked them
into ordering the Little Scout.
When
it came I was the proudest kid in the territory.
.22 shorts were fifteen cents a box so Willis and I did a lot of shooting
at cans and bottles.
One
day when I was home from school for some reason I decided to go rabbit hunting
all by myself. All by myself, that
is, except for Curly. I told Ma I
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