"Wake up, boys! Wake up! Tumble out, there! Quick! Big Reuben's into the pig-pen again!"
Our bedroom door was banged wide open, and my father stood before us--a startling apparition--dressed only
in his night-shirt and a pair of boots, carrying a stable-lantern in one hand and a rifle in the other.
"What is it?" cried Joe, as he bounced out of bed; and, "Where is it?" cried I, both of us half dazed by the
"It's Big Reuben raiding the pig-pen again! Can't you hear 'em squealing? Come on at once! Bring the
eight-bore, Joe; and you, Phil, get the torch and the revolver....