"You're probably all tuckered out," I said to the old woodsman.

The old woodsman bent over and hissed in my ear.

Much to our relief, the old woodsman came in a short while later, looking like a tattered icicle in more or less human form.

The old woodsman nudged me in the ribs and winked.

As we were driving home, I tried to cheer up the old woodsman.

Oddly, the odorous and crotchety old woodsman himself was one of the people who thought this.

What was even stranger, the crippled old woodsman kept gaining on us.

As always, the old woodsman was delighted to see us.

The old woodsman stared at me, then down at his fish.

The game warden and I stared at the old woodsman with considerable concern.