His long red body, stretched to its fullest length, seemed to float in the air as he sailed over it.
We could hear the tall stalks rattling as he plowed his way through them.
A bunch of sleepy snow birds rose from the thick cane, flitted over, and settled in a row on the old rail fence.
Nearing the tree, we could see it was a tall sycamore, and there high in the top was the coon.
Grandpa threw a fit. He hopped around whooping and hollering.
He threw his old hat down on the ground and jumped up and down on it.
Then he ran over and kissed Little Ann right on the head.
After we killed and skinned the coon, the judge said, “Let’s walk back to that old fence. I think I know how the old fellow pulled his trick.”
Back at the fence, the judge stood and looked around for a few minutes.
Smiling, he said, “Yes, that’s how he did it.” “How?” Grandpa asked.
Still smiling, the judge said, “That old coon walked this rail fence.
Coming even with the hackberry tree, he leaped up on its side, and climbed up.
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