"Pa, I’m going to leave home. I’m going out on my own."
     "I always knew you would. You’re fixing on being a cat herder, aren’t you?"
     "Yes, Pa, I am going to make a name for myself." I puffed out my chest.
     He looked at me. "I know you will. You’ll do Lydia and me proud. You’ll redeem my reputation. Won’t you, son?"
     In my self-importance, I had forgotten his humiliation at the hands of Mary, his old friend Clem, and that Frenchman La Rare. I looked closely at Pa. Dear Lord, could a man truly age that quickly?
     "I’ll do my best, Pa." I turned to walk away.
     "Hold on, Chris, hold on. You’ll be signing up tomorrow and I have a few words of advice for you."
     "Oh Father, that’s not really necessary." I turned back to face him.
     "I don’t mind, Chris. Here goes."
     I listened. He was my father.    
     He continued, "Always treat women with courtesy and respect.
     "Stick with your trail friends.
     "Don’t question your bosses and don’t complain.
     "Don’t eat mushrooms.
     "Keep your vertebrae in alignment.
     "Stick to your task until it’s done and do it well.
     "Keep your eyes open for good truffle land.
     "You can’t shoot worth a lick. Carry big pistols so people will think you can.  

      "Be kind to all cats. One of them kept you alive when you were born.
     "When you get paid at the end of the trail, don’t spend all your wages in a saloon. Be sure to invest in a properly diversified portfolio.
     "Lutefisk is healthy food. Some don’t cotton to it because it offends the senses of: smell, sight, touch, and taste. Hmm, best stick to gooseflesh. You were raised on it."
     "Father, I hear mother calling me." He was my father, but when would this end?
     He continued, "Why Chris, she’s visiting at the McComb’s farm over a mile away. You’re imagining things. Where was I? Oh yes.
     "Never play in a friendly game of poker.
     "Make sure your cats always have enough to eat.
     "Stay away from Norwegians.
     "Keep your powder dry."
     "Father, I’ll be wearing six-shooters. We don’t carry powder pouches anymore."
     "That’s so, that’s so. Well, listen anyway to the wisdom of an old-timer."
     "There’s more?"
     "Yes, there is."
     I sat down on a tree stump. I used to string a hammock from this tree. My goodness, I slept well here. Sure could have used a hammock just then.
     "Chris, Chris, Chris! Remember you can make jerky out of anything.
     "And last of all, don’t sign up for college correspondence courses. The mail will never catch up with you on the trail."
     I stood up and grasped his hand. "Well, Pa, time to get my gear together. You took me in and raised me as your son. I’ll always be right grateful to you. I’ll make you proud. I’ll be the greatest catpuncher ever."