Cinder Path Tales

CINDER-PATH TALES some onewho called out, "Come here, Mac, you porridge-eater, and show them how to do it." At this he laughed, shookhis heiad, and would not budge. But the call was taken up by others, with a lot ofchaff, like," The lad's bashful," " A Scotch puddler's always shy except on pay-day," and a plenty more like it. At last a young fellow in a blue jersey, and an old chap, the color and material of whose shirt were alike doubtful,took eachan arm, and led him, holding back a bit and laughing, to the circlewithin which the shot lay. He picked it up, dropped it while he drew his narrow belt a hole or two tighter, and then picked it up again. He rolled it a bit in his hand, raised it two or three times from his shoulder high above his head, balanced a moment on his right leg, with the left lifted, and then, with that easy wrist and hand motion, and that little " flick " athe end, he sent the old cannon-ball a good two yards fartherthan any who had tried. It was a right good " put," though not a phenomenal one, and hardly a fault could I find with the style, barring a little failure to get the full turn of the body. Almost as soon as the shot landed, and before the mingled applause and good-