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ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN LIFE 
 
 AND CHARACTER 
 
 EDITED BY 
 
 HENRY WATTERSON 
 
 WITH ILLUSTRA TIONS 
 
 BY 
 
 W. L. SHEPPARD AND F. S. CHURCH 
 
 BOSTON AND NEW YORK 
 HOUGHTON MIFFLIN COMPANY 
 
COPYRIGHT, 1882, BY HOUGHTON, MIFFLIN & CO. 
 COPYRIGHT, 19IO, BY HENRY WATTERSON 
 
 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED 
 
n 
 
 To 
 
 MY FRIEND, 
 
 WALTER N. HALDEMAN, 
 
 \ REPRESENTATIVE OF THE BUSINESS PROGRESS, NO LESS THAK 0» 
 THE NEWSPAPER DEVELOPMENT 
 
 OF 
 
 THE SOtJtH, 
 ff^fs Comptlatton of Soutfjern CfiaractertstiW 
 
 IS CORDIALLY INSCRIBED 
 BY 
 
 THE EDITOR 
 
PREFACE, 
 
 A CYNIC tells us that jokes, like women, rarely 
 grow better as they grow older. Yet we are assured 
 that our best stories are as old as the hills, — come 
 down to us from generation to generation, time out 
 of mind. I take leave to deny both these assump- 
 tions. The comic situations in which we may find 
 ourselves have indeed a limit set upon them. But 
 humor, ever-changing and many-sided, is an exhaust- 
 less source of inspiration, adapting itself to prevail- 
 ing conditions of life with surprising freshness and 
 vitality. 
 
 There is little in common between the comedy of 
 the French and that of the English ; that of the 
 Spaniard is equally remote in its relationship to 
 either, if it possesses any claim to relationship at 
 all ; whilst nothing can stick closer to the manner 
 born than the grim, fantastic farce of the Asiatic. 
 The best repartee in the world is Irish ; but we do 
 not need the brogue to identify it. Translated into 
 idiomatic English, its examples identify themselves. 
 The same may be said of the Scotch. In America, 
 the congregation of many nationalities, together with 
 the exceptional and novel character of our political 
 
Vi PREFACE. 
 
 and domestic fabric, has given birth to a humor of 
 singular quaintness and variety, and although for 
 the most part of a low order, yet essentially repre- 
 sentative and picturesque. I do not refer so much 
 to our written as to our colloquial humor. Our lit- 
 erature is full of imitation ; our anecdotes are our 
 own, the outgivings of a nature, habit of thought, 
 and mode of existence whimsically real. We are 
 not a romantic people, like the English ; not a witty 
 people, like the French. Our tragedies are wont to 
 make men laugh ; so that, as a matter of fact, we 
 are funny in spite of ourselves. The New England 
 grocer, who, being assured by his apprentice that he 
 had sanded the sugar and watered the milk, straight- 
 way called the lad to prayers, had as Httle notion 
 of joking as the Kentuckian, who, receiving sev- 
 eral established signs from his partner at a game 
 of whist, at last broke out piteously, "■ How kin I 
 play the ace when I haint it .<* " Yet the two stories 
 are illustrative. They are types of separate phases 
 of American life, and of the humor which flows 
 from that life. They could not flow from any other 
 life. How different in character the reply of the 
 French girl at the cattle show to her lover's query 
 whether she was fond of brutes ! " Am I to con- 
 sider that a declaration ? " said she. Or John 
 Wilkes's famous retort upon Thurlow's bombast that 
 when he forgot his king he hoped his God might 
 forget him ! " Forget you ! " said Wilkes, in a stage 
 whisper. " He '11 see you damned first." 
 
PREFACE. Vir 
 
 In the United States, particularly in the Southern 
 States, such quiddities are rarely heard ; the wit is 
 coarser, whilst, as a rule, the humor turns upon 
 character and incident. We body forth a person- 
 age out of the odds and ends of comic thought and 
 memory, the heel-taps of current observance ; we 
 clothe this image appropriately, and then we put it 
 through a series of amusing adventure. Thus it is 
 that our humor is anecdotal, producing such figures 
 as Sut Luvingood ; Bill Arp; Major Joseph Jones, of 
 Pineville, Ga. ; the Rev. Hezekiah Bradley, who dis- 
 coursed upon the Harp of a Thousand Strings ; 
 and last, but not least, Captain Simon Suggs, of the 
 Tallapoosa Volunteers. They flourished years ago, 
 in the good old time of muster da^s and quarter- 
 racing, before the camp-meeting and the barbecue 
 had lost their power and their charm ; when men 
 led simple, homely lives, doing their love-making 
 and their law-making as they did their fighting and 
 their plowing, in a straight furrow ; when there vv^as 
 no national debt multiplying the dangers and mag- 
 nifying the expenses of distillation in the hills and 
 hollows, and pouring in upon the log-rolling, the 
 quilting, the corn-shucking, and the fish-fry an in- 
 quisitorial crew of tax-gatherers and detectives to 
 spoil the sport and dull the edge of patriotic hus- 
 bandry. 
 
 The joking which takes its rise from such sources 
 must needs be rough. In presenting it in the fol- 
 lowing pages it is not my purpose to make much 
 
Vlll FRErACE. 
 
 boast of its quality, but to offer it as in some sort 
 a picture of a day that is gone, of a race which has 
 passed into history, of a region whose swamps and 
 ridges, mountain passes and vast cotton lands, — 
 given over for a century to song and dance and sun- 
 burnt mirth, — constituted a inise en scene for the 
 strangest domestic melodrama of modern times. 
 
 In a word, I do not propose here an encyclopaedia 
 of Southern wit and humor, but a series of charac- 
 teristic pictures, taken from the most graphic chron- 
 iclers of the nether side of Southern life ; and, 
 whilst my illustrations of the oddities and realities 
 of this life may be conspicuous for their omissions, 
 I do not think they will be found to lack the essen- 
 tial elements of fidelity and humor. 
 
 In the famous speech of Mr. Knott, in " Texas 
 Siftings," and in the paragraphs of the late Mr. 
 Hatcher, a marked change, traceable to the Pren- 
 ticean influence, is seen ; whilst in the more elabo- 
 rate stories of the author of ** Dukesborough Tales," 
 and in the delicious fables of " Uncle Remus," we 
 discover not merely marked progress in literary 
 handicraft, but a total absence of the merely local 
 tone which abounds in the writing of Longstreet, 
 Harris, Thompson, and Hooper. 
 
 The volume is given to the public simply as an 
 illustration, and by no means as a compendium. 
 The editor would be glad if it should prove a con- 
 tribution, however slight, to the good humor of the 
 period, and, in this character and by this token, to 
 
PREFACE. IX 
 
 a better understanding among classes of people 
 hitherto kept asunder by misconceptions and preju- 
 dices the most whimsical. He has, in its prepara- 
 tion, confined himself to the editorial duty of selec- 
 tion, with such revision only as seemed indispensable 
 to a clean and condensed illustration of the subjects 
 treated ; the purpose of his publishers being to place 
 before the public, in a form at once convenient and 
 neat, a few examples of the fast-fading oddities of 
 Southern life to be found in the almost obsolete 
 
 literature of the slave era. 
 
 H. W. 
 
 Courier-Journal Office, 
 Louisville, September 15, 1882. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 Georgia Scenes 
 
 I. Georgia Theatricals 
 
 "11. The Fight 
 
 ^ III. The Horse-Swap 
 
 IV. The Militia Drill * 
 
 Simon Suggs 
 
 I. Simon starts in the World 
 
 - II. The Captain attends a Camp-meeting 
 
 [II. Simon is arraigned before " a Jury of his Country " . 
 IV. Simon " Fights the Tiger '' 
 
 Flush Times . . • • 
 
 I. How the Times served the Virginians. — Virginians in 
 a New Country.— The Rise, Decline, and Fall of 
 the Rag Empire 
 
 II. Assault and Battery .... 
 III. Sharp Financiering .... 
 
 Major Jones's Courtship . . • • 
 
 I, The Major takes a Chew of Tobacco * 
 
 II. The Major has a Misadventure 
 
 III. A Georgia Coon Hunt .... 
 
 IV. The Major has a Rival . 
 V. And what came of it . 
 
 VI. A Reconciliation .... 
 
 VII. The Major moves up to the Front 
 
 VIII. The Major pops the Question . 
 
 IX. The Wedding 
 
 Major Jones's Travels 
 
 I. Major Jones takes a Peep at the Government 
 
 II. The Monumental City ...» 
 
 PACK 
 I 
 
 2 
 
 5 
 
 20 
 30 
 
 39 
 40 
 
 55 
 69 
 76 
 92 
 
 92 
 124 
 
 131 
 
 134 
 
 ■ 135 
 141 
 
 . 146 
 
 153 
 
 . 157 
 
 162 
 
 . 167 
 169 
 
 . 175 
 180 
 
 . 183 
 
 193 
 
Xii CONTENTS. 
 
 III. The Major's Adventures in Baltimore . . . 201 
 
 IV. Further Adventures in Baltimore .... 212 
 
 V. The Quaker City 222 
 
 VI. The Major's Adventures in Gotham . , . 232 
 
 Davy Crocketi' 245 
 
 I. A Useful Coon Skin 246 
 
 II. En Route for Texas 251 
 
 III. The Game of Thimblerig 255 
 
 J. Proctor Knott . ' 265 
 
 Duluth Speech 266 
 
 Bill Arp 285 
 
 I. Bill Arp on Litigation 286 
 
 II. A Few of Mr. Arp's Reflections 291 
 
 Uncle Remus 304 
 
 I. Uncle Remus initiates the Little Boy . , . 305 
 
 II. The Wonderful Tar-Baby Story .... 308 
 
 III. How Mr. Rabbit was too sharp for Mr. Fox . .310 
 
 IV. Mr. Rabbit grossly deceives Mr. Fox . . . 313 
 V. Mr. Fox is again victimized . . . . •317 
 
 VI. Songs of Uncle Remus 321 
 
 Dukesborough Tales 329 
 
 I. How Mr. Bill took the Responsibility . . . 330 
 
 II. The Pursuit of Mr. Adiel Slack 362 
 
 SUT LOVINGOOD 415 
 
 I. How Daddy played Hoss 415 
 
 II. The "Biled Shut" 424 
 
 III. Parson Bullen's Lizards 430 
 
 George W. Bagby 439 
 
 How " Ruby " played 439 
 
 The Newspaper Wits 446 
 
 I. George D. Prentice 446 
 
 II. John E. Hatcher 450 
 
 III. Texas Siftings 457 
 
 IV. Albert Roberts 466 
 
 A Trio of Old Oddities . . . • g. . • 474 
 
 I. Cousin Sally Dilliard 474 
 
 II. Guilty — but Drunk 478 
 
 III. " The Harp of a Thousand Strings "... 482 
 
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 — ♦— 
 
 PAGE 
 
 " He was dressed with care " Frontispiece 
 
 " With a loud yell, Bill plunged forward " . . . . '43 
 
 " Take TWENTY !" said the Captain 91 
 
 " A 1-e-e-t-l-e further forward " .. 144 
 
 " Oh, no, not much. It ain't z/^rj/ bad " . . . . 166 
 
 " Sum more beef," ses I 211 
 
 " You look sorter stuck up dis mawnin' " . . . . 310 
 " The tarifick shape ove his feeters " 434 
 
ODDITIES 
 
 IN 
 
 SOUTHERN LIFE AND CHARACTER. 
 
 GEORGIA SCENES. 
 
 Judge Longstreet, the author of "Georgia Scenes," was first 
 among the writers of the South to seize the comic aspects of South- 
 ern life, and turn them to shape, and to give them a local habitation 
 and a name. The volume entitled " Georgia Scenes : Characters, 
 Incidents, etc., in the First Half Centur}^ of the Republic, by a Native 
 Georgian," was published by the Harpers in 1840 ; but the sketches 
 of which it was composed had appeared in various magazines and 
 newspapers prior to that date. The book had a great run, then went 
 •■>ut of print, and finally, as 4ate as 1875, was reissued, "in compli- 
 ance," as the publishers state, "with the urgent demands of the 
 booksellers." Judge Longstreet could not be prevailed upon to re- 
 vise this latest edition, or to take any interest in it. He had long been 
 a preacher and college president, and seemed to be a little ashamed 
 of his early dallyings with the merry Muse of comedy. 
 
 The Hon. Augustus Baldwin Longstreet was born the 22d of 
 September, 1800. He always claimed South Carolina as his birth- 
 place, and was doubtless a native of this State, although Georgia is 
 set down in the encyclopaedias as the place of his nativity. Be this 
 as it may, he lived in, and was honored by, both South Carolina and 
 Georgia, ending his days at an advanced age in Mississippi. After 
 graduating at Yale in 1823, he studied law and began practice at 
 Litchfield, Conn., but soon after returned to South Carolina, where 
 he was successful, rising to the dignity of a judge of the Superior 
 Court. He abjured politics and law, however, became a divine, and 
 passed the remaining years of his life as president of the universities, 
 
 1 
 
2 ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN LIFE. 
 
 alternately, of South Carolina and Mississippi. He was respected, 
 wherever he was known, as a very able as well as a very scholarly 
 man. 
 
 " Georgia Scenes " are the simplest transcription of the humorous 
 phases of the life and character of the period embraced by them, done 
 in charcoal, without effort and without pretense, and are worthy of 
 preservation because of their fidelity to nature and the truthfulness 
 of detail which marks them. The four sketches which I have se- 
 lected give a fair idea of the whole, eighteen in number, which make 
 up the original volume. 
 
 I. 
 
 GEORGIA THEATRICALS. 
 
 If my memory fail me not, the loth of June, 1809, 
 found me, at about eleven o'clock in the forenoon, 
 ascending a long and gentle slope in what was called 
 " the Dark Corner " of Lincoln. I believe it took its 
 name from the moral darkness which reigned over 
 that portion of the county at the time of which I 
 am speaking. If, in this point of view, it was but a 
 shade darker than the rest of the county, it was in- 
 conceivably dark. If any man can name a trick of sin 
 which had not been committed at the time of which 
 I am speaking, in the very focus of the county's 
 illumination (Lincolnton), he must himself be the 
 most inventive of the tricky, and the very Judas of 
 sinners. Since that time, however (all humor aside), 
 Lincoln has become a living proof " that light shin- 
 eth in darkness." Could I venture to mingle the 
 solemn with the ludicrous, even for the purposes of 
 honorable contrast, I could adduce from this county 
 instances of the most numerous and wonderful tran- 
 sitions from vice and folly to virtue and holiness 
 which have ever, perhaps, been witnessed since the 
 days of the apostolic ministry. So much, lest it 
 
GEORGIA SCENES. 3 
 
 should be thought by some that what I am about to 
 relate was characteristic of the county in which it 
 occurred. 
 
 Whatever may be said of the moral condition of 
 the Dark Corner at the time just mentioned, its 
 fiatiiral condition was anything but dark. It smiled 
 in all the charms of spring ; and spring borrowed a 
 new charm from its undulating grounds, its luxuri- 
 ant woodlands, its sportive streams, its vocal birds, 
 and its blushing flowers. 
 
 Rapt with the enchantment of the season and the 
 scenery around me, I was slowly rising the slope, 
 when I was startled by loud, profane, and boisterous 
 voices, which seemed to proceed from a thick covert 
 of undergrowth about two hundred yards in advance 
 of me, and about one hundred to the right of my 
 road. 
 
 " You kin — kin you } " 
 
 " Yes, I kin, and I 'm able to do it ! Boo-oo-oo ! 
 Oh wake snakes and walk your chalks ! Brimstone 
 and fire ! Don't hold me, Nick Stoval ! The fight 's 
 made up, and let 's go to it. My soul, if I don't jump 
 down his throat, and gallop every chitterhng out of 
 him before you can say 'quit ' ! " 
 
 '• Now, Nick, don't hold him ! Jist let the wild-cat 
 come, and I '11 tame him. Ned '11 see me a fair fight ; 
 won't you, Ned t " 
 
 " Oh, yes ; I '11 see you a fair fight, blast my old 
 shoes if I don't ! " 
 
 " That 's sufficient, as Tom Haynes said when he 
 saw the elephant. Now let him come." 
 
 Thus they went on, with countless oaths inter- 
 spersed, which I dare not even hint at, and with 
 much that I could not distinctly hear. 
 
4 ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN LIFE. 
 
 In mercy's name, thought I, what band of ruffians 
 has selected this holy season and this heavenly re- 
 treat for such Pandemonium riots ? I quickened my 
 gait, and had come nearly opposite to the thick grove 
 whence the noise proceeded, when my eye caught 
 at intervals, through the foliage of the dwarf oaks 
 and hickories which intervened, glimpses of a man 
 or men, who seemed to be in a violent struggle ; 
 and I could occasionally catch those deep-drawn, 
 emphatic oaths which men in conflict utter when 
 they deal blows. I dismounted, and hurried to the 
 spot with all speed. I had overcome about half the 
 space which separated it from me, when I saw the 
 combatants come to the ground, and after a short 
 struggle I saw the uppermost one (for I could not 
 see the other) make a heavy plunge with both his 
 thumbs, and at the same instant heard a cry in the 
 accent of keenest torture, " Nuff ! My eye 's out ! " 
 
 I was so completely horror-struck that I stood 
 transfixed for a moment to the spot where the cry 
 met me. The accomplices in the hellish deed which 
 had been perpetrated had all fled at my approach ; 
 at least I supposed so, for they were not to be seen. 
 
 "Now, blast your corn-shucking soul," said the 
 victor (a youth about eighteen years old) as he rose 
 from the ground, *' come cutt'n your shines 'bout 
 me agin, next time I come to the Courthouse, will 
 you ! Get your owl-eye in agin, if you can ! " 
 
 At this moment he saw me for the first time. He 
 looked excessively embarrassed, and was moving off, 
 when I called to him, in a tone emboldened by the 
 sacredness of my office and the iniquity of his crime, 
 *' Come back, you brute, and assist me in reliev- 
 ing your fellow-mortal, whom you have ruined for- 
 ever ! " 
 
GEORGIA SCENES. 5 
 
 My rudeness subdued his embarrassment in an 
 instant ; and, with a taunting curl of the nose, he 
 repHed, "You needn't kick before you're spurr'd. 
 There ain't nobody there, nor hain't been, nother. I 
 was jist seein' how I could 'a' /<??//." So saying, he 
 bounded to his plow, which stood in the corner of 
 the fence, about fifty yards beyond the battle-ground. 
 
 And would you believe it, gentle reader, his re- 
 port was true ! All that I had heard and seen was 
 nothing more nor less than a Lincoln rehearsal, in 
 which the youth who had just left me had played all 
 the parts of all the characters in a Courthouse fight. 
 
 I went to the ground from which he had risen, 
 and there were the prints of his two thumbs, plunged 
 up to the balls in the mellow earth, about the dis- 
 tance of a man's eyes apart ; and the ground around 
 was broken up as if two stags had been engaged 
 upon it. 
 
 II. 
 
 THE FIGHT. 
 
 In the younger days of the republic there lived 
 
 in the county of two men, who were admitted 
 
 on all hands to be the very best 7nen in the county ; 
 which, in the Georgia vocabulary, means they could 
 flog any other two men in the county. Each, through 
 many a hard-fought battle, had acquired the mastery 
 of his own battalion ; but they lived on opposite 
 sides of the Courthouse, and in different battalions : 
 consequently, they were but seldom thrown together. 
 When they met, however, they were always very 
 friendly ; indeed, at their first inteview, they seemed 
 to conceive a wonderful attachment to each other, 
 
6 ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN LIFE. 
 
 which rather increased than diminished as they be- 
 came better acquainted ; so that, but for the circum- 
 stance which I am about to mention, the question 
 which had been a thousand times asked, " Which 
 is the best man, Billy Stallions [Stallings] or Bob 
 Durham ? " would probably never have been an- 
 swered. 
 
 Billy ruled the upper battalion, and Bob the lower. 
 The former measured six feet and an inch in his 
 stockings, and, without a single pound of cumbrous 
 flesh about him, weighed a hundred and eighty. The 
 latter was an inch shorter than his rival, and ten 
 pounds lighter ; but he was much the most active 
 of the two. In running and jumping he had but few 
 equals in the county, and in wrestling not one. In 
 other respects they were nearly equal. Both were 
 admirable specimens of human nature in its finest 
 form. Billy's victories had generally been achieved 
 by the tremendous power of his blows, one of which 
 had often proved decisive of his battles ; Bob's, by 
 his adroitness in bringing his adversary to the 
 ground. This advantage he had never failed to gain 
 at the onset, and, when gained he never failed to im- 
 prove it to the defeat of his adversary. These points 
 of difference have involved the reader in a doubt as 
 to the probable issue of a contest between them. 
 It was not so, however, with the two battalions. 
 Neither had the least difficulty in determining the 
 point by the most natural and irresistible deductions 
 a priori ; and though by the same course of reason- 
 ing they arrived at directly opposite conclusions, 
 neither felt its confidence in the least shaken by 
 this circumstance. The upper battalion swore " that 
 Billy only wanted one lick at him to knock his heart, 
 
GEORGIA SCENES. y 
 
 liver, and lights out of him, and if he got two at him 
 he 'd knock him into a cocked hat." The lower bat- 
 talion retorted " that he would n't have time to 
 double his fist before Bob would put his head where 
 his feet ought to be ; and that, by the time he hit 
 the ground, the meat would fly off his face so quick 
 that people would think it was shook off by the fall." 
 These disputes often led to the argiLinentimi adhorn- 
 ineni, but with such equality of success on both 
 sides as to leave the main question just where they 
 found it. They usually ended, however, in the com- 
 mon way, with a bet ; and many a quart of old Ja- 
 maica (whisky had not then supplanted rum) were 
 staked upon the issue. Still, greatly to the annoy- 
 ance of the curious, Billy and Bob continued to be 
 good friends. 
 
 Now there happened to reside in the county just 
 alluded to a little fellow by the name of Ransy Snif- 
 fle : a sprout of Richmond, who, in his earlier days, 
 had fed copiously upon red clay and blackberries. 
 This diet had given to Ransy a complexion that a 
 corpse would have disdained to own, and an abdom- 
 inal rotundity that was quite unprepossessing. Long 
 spells of the fever and ague, too, in Ransy's youth, 
 had conspired with clay and blackberries to throw 
 him quite out of the order of nature. His shoulders 
 were fleshless and elevated ; his head large and flat ; 
 his neck slim and translucent ; and his arm-s, hands, 
 fingers, and feet were lengthened out of all propor- 
 tion to the rest of his frame. His joints were large 
 and his limbs small ; and as for flesh, he could not, 
 with propriety, be said to have any. Those parts 
 which nature usually supplies with the most of this 
 article — the calves of the legs, for example — pre- 
 
8 ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN LIFE, 
 
 sented in him the appearance of so many well-drawn 
 blisters. His height was just five feet nothing, and 
 his average weight, in blackberry season, ninety-five. 
 I have been thus particular in describing him for 
 the purpose of showing what a great matter a little 
 fire sometimes kindleth. There was nothing on this 
 earth which delighted Ransy so much as a fight. 
 He never seemed fairly alive except when he was 
 witnessing, fomenting, or talking about a fight. 
 Then, indeed, his deep-sunken gray eye assumed 
 something of a living fire, and his tongue acquired 
 a volubility that bordered upon eloquence. Ransy 
 had been kept for more than a year in the most tor- 
 turing suspense as to the comparative manhood of 
 Billy Stallings and Bob Durham. He had resorted 
 to all his usual expedients to bring them in collision, 
 and had entirely failed. He had faithfully reported 
 to Bob all that had been said by the people in the 
 upper battalion *' agin him," and "he was sure Billy 
 Stallings started it. He heard Billy say himself to 
 Jim Brown that he could whip him, or any other man 
 in his battalion ; " and this he told to Bob, adding, 
 " Dod darn his soul, if he was a little bigger, if he 'd 
 let any man pnt 2ipon his battalion in such a way." 
 Bob replied, " If he [Stallings] thought so, he 'd bet- 
 ter come and try it." This Ransy carried to Billy, 
 and delivered it with a spirit becoming his own dig- 
 nity and the character of his battalion, and with a 
 coloring well calculated to give it effect. These and 
 many other schemes which Ransy laid for the grati- 
 fication of his curiosity entirely failed of their object. 
 Billy and Bob continued friends, and Ransy had be- 
 gun to lapse into the most tantalizing and hopeless 
 despair, when a circumstance occurred which led to 
 a settlement of the long-disputed question. 
 
GEORGIA SCEN-ES. 9 
 
 It is said that a hundred game-cocks Vv^ill live in 
 perfect harmony together, if you do not put a hen 
 with them ; and so it would have been with Billy 
 and Bob had there been no women in the world. 
 But there were women in the world, and from them 
 each of our heroes had taken to himself a wife. 
 The good ladies were no strangers to the prowess 
 of their husbands, and, strange as it may seem, they 
 presumed a little upon it. 
 
 The two battalions had met at the Courthouse 
 upon a regimental parade. The two champions 
 were there, and their wives had accompanied them. 
 Neither knew the other's lady, nor were the ladies 
 known to each other. The exercises of the day 
 were just over, when Mrs. Stallings and Mrs. Dur- 
 ham stepped simultaneously into the store of Zeph- 
 aniah Atwater, from *' Down East." 
 
 *' Have you any Turkey red .^ " said Mrs. S. 
 
 " Have you any curtain calico } " said Mrs. D., at 
 the same moment. 
 
 " Yes, ladies," said Mr. Atwater, " I have both." 
 
 " Then help me first," said Mrs. D., " for I 'm in 
 a hurry." 
 
 " I 'm in as great a hurry as she is," said Mrs. S., 
 •* and I '11 thank you to help me first." 
 
 " And pray, who are you, madam } " continued the 
 other. 
 
 " Your betters, madam," was the reply. 
 
 At this moment Billy Stallings stepped in. 
 •* Come," said he, " Nancy, let 's be going ; it 's get- 
 ting late." 
 
 '* I 'd V been gone half an hour ago," she replied, 
 "' if it had n't 'a' been for that impudent hussy." 
 
 " Who do you call an impudent hussy, you nasty, 
 
lO ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN LIFE. 
 
 good-for-nothing, snaggle-toothed gaub of fat, you ? " 
 returned Mrs. D. 
 
 " Look here, woman," said Billy, " have you got 
 a husband here ? If you have, I '11 lick him till he 
 learns to teach you better manners, you sassy heifer, 
 you ! " At this moment something was seen to rush 
 out of the store as if ten thousand hornets were 
 stinging it, crying, "Take care — let me go — don't 
 hold me — where 's Bob Durham ?" It was Ransy 
 Sniffle, who had been listening in breathless dehght 
 to all that had passed. 
 
 ** Yonder 's Bob, setting on the Courthouse 
 steps ! " cried one. " What 's the matter } " 
 
 " Don't talk to me ! " said Ransy. " Bob Durham, 
 you 'd better go long yonder, and take care of your 
 wife. They 're playing h — 1 with her there, in Zeph 
 Atwater's store. Dod etarnally darn my soul, if any 
 man was to talk to my wife as Bill Stallions is talk- 
 ing to yours, if I would n't drive blue blazes through 
 him in less than no time." 
 
 Bob sprang to the store in a minute, followed by 
 a hundred friends ; for the bully of a county never 
 wants friends. 
 
 "Bill Stallions," said Bob, as he entered, "what 
 have you been saying to my wife } " 
 
 " Is that your wife } " inquired Billy, obviously 
 much surprised, and a little disconcerted. 
 
 " Yes, she is, and no man shall abuse her, I don't 
 care who he is." 
 
 " Well," rejoined Billy, " it ain't worth while to go 
 over it. I 've said enough for a fight ; and if you '11 
 step out we '11 settle it ! " 
 
 ** Billy," said Bob, "are you for a fair fight } " 
 
 "I am," said Billy. "I've heard much of your 
 
GEORGIA SCEXES. II 
 
 manhood, and I believe I 'm a better man than you 
 are. If you will go into a ring with me, we can 
 soon settle the dispute." 
 
 " Choose your friends," said Bob ; " make your 
 ring, and I '11 be in with mine as soon as you will." 
 
 They both stepped out, and began to strip very 
 deliberately, each battalion gathering round its 
 champion, except Ransy, who kept himself busy in 
 a most honest endeavor to hear and see all that 
 transpired in both groups at the same time. He 
 ran from one to the other in quick succession ; 
 peeped here, and listened there ; talked to this one, 
 then to that one, and then to himself; squatted un- 
 der one's legs and another's arms, and in the short 
 interval between stripping and stepping into the 
 ring managed to get himself trod on by half of both 
 battalions. But Ransy was not the only one in- 
 terested upon this occasion ; the most intense in- 
 terest prevailed everywhere. Many were the con- 
 jectures, doubts, oaths, and imprecations uttered 
 ^hile the parties were preparing for the combat. 
 4 11 the knowing ones were consulted as to the issue, 
 and they all agreed, to a man, in one of two opin- 
 ions : either that Bob would flog Billy, or Billy would 
 flog Bob. We must be permitted, however, to dwell 
 for a moment upon the opinion of Squire Thomas 
 I oggins, a man who, it w^as said, had never failed 
 in all his life to predict the issue of a fight. Indeed, 
 30 unerring had he always proved in this regard that 
 it would have been counted the most obstinate infi- 
 delity to doubt for a moment after he had delivered 
 bimself. Squire Loggins was a man who said but 
 little, but that little was always delivered with the 
 most' imposing solemnity of look and cadence. He 
 
12 ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN LIFE. 
 
 always wore the aspect of profound thought, and 
 you could not look at him without coming to the 
 conclusion that he was elaborating truth from its 
 most intricate combinations. 
 
 *' Uncle Tommy," said Sam Reynolds, "you can 
 tell us all about it, if you will. How will the fight 
 
 go 
 
 ?" 
 
 The question immediately drew an anxious group 
 around the squire. He raised his teeth slowly from 
 the head of his walking-cane, on which they had 
 been resting, pressed his lips closely and thought- 
 fully together, threw down his eyebrows, dropped 
 his chin, raised his eyes to an angle of twenty-three 
 degrees, paused about half a minute, and repHed, 
 ** Sammy, watch Robert Durham close in the be- 
 ginning of the fight; take care of William Stallions 
 in the middle of it ; and see who has the wind at the 
 end." As he uttered the last member of the sen' 
 tence, he looked slyly at Bob's friends, and winked 
 very significantly ; whereupon they rushed, with one 
 accord, to tell Bob what Uncle Tommy had said. 
 As they retired, the squire turned to Billy's friends, 
 and said, with a smile, " Them boys think I mean 
 that Bob will whip." 
 
 Here the other party kindled into joy, and has- 
 tened to inform Billy how Bob's friends had deceived 
 themselves as to Uncle Tommy's opinion. In the 
 mean time the principals and seconds were busily 
 employed in preparing themselves for the combat. 
 The plan of attack and defense, the manner of im- 
 proving the various turns of the conflict, " the best 
 mode of saving wind," etc., etc., were all discussed 
 and settled. At length Billy announced himself 
 ready, and his crowd were seen moving to the centre 
 
GEORGIA SCENES. I 3 
 
 of the Courthouse Square ; he and his five seconds 
 in the rear. At the same time, Bob's party moved 
 to the same point, and in the same order. The ring 
 was now formed, and for a moment the silence of 
 death reigned through both battahons. It was soon 
 interrupted, however, by the cry of " Clear the way ! " 
 from Billy's seconds ; when the ring opened in the 
 centre of the upper battalion (for the order of march 
 had arranged the centre of the two battalions on 
 opposite sides of the circle), and Billy stepped into 
 the ring from the east, followed by his friends. He 
 was stripped to the trousers, and exhibited an arm, 
 breast, and shoulders of the most tremendous por- 
 tent. His step was firm, daring, and martial ; and 
 as he bore his fine form a little in advance of his 
 friends, an involuntary burst of triumph broke from 
 his side of the ring, and at the same moment an 
 uncontrollable thrill Ox awe ran along the whole 
 curve of the lower battalion. 
 
 " Look at him ! " was heard from his friends ; 
 "just look at him." 
 
 '* Ben, how much you ask to stand before that 
 man two seconds } " 
 
 " Pshaw, don't talk about it ! Just thinkin' about 
 it 's broke three o' my ribs a'ready ! " 
 
 " What 's Bob Durham going to do when Billy 
 lets that arm loose upon him } " 
 
 " God bless your soul, he '11 think thunder and 
 lightning a mint julip to it." 
 
 " Oh, look here, men I Go take Bill Stallions out 
 o' that ring, and bring in Phil Johnson's stud horse, 
 so that Durham may have some chance ! I don't 
 want to see the man killed right away." 
 
 These and many other like expressions, inter 
 
14 ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN LIFE. 
 
 spersed thickly with oaths of the most modern coin- 
 age, were coming from all points of the upper bat- 
 taUon, while Bob was adjusting the girth of his 
 pantaloons, which walking had discovered not to be 
 exactly right. It was just fixed to his mind, his foes 
 becoming a little noisy, and his friends a little un- 
 easy at his delay, when Billy called out, with a 
 smile of some meaning, '' Where 's the bully of the 
 lower battalion ? I 'm getting tired of waiting." 
 
 " Here he is," said Bob, lighting, as it seemed, 
 from the clouds into the ring, for he had actually 
 bounded clear of the head of Ransy Sniffle into the 
 circle. His descent was quite as imposing as Billy's 
 entry, and excited the same feelings, but in opposite 
 bosoms. 
 
 Voices of exultation now rose on his side. 
 
 ** Where did he come from t " 
 
 " Why," said one of his seconds (all having just 
 entered), '* we were girting him up, about a hun- 
 dred yards out yonder, when he heard Billy ask for 
 the bully ; and he fetched a leap over the Court- 
 house, and went out of sight. But I told them to 
 come on ; they 'd find him here." 
 
 Here the lower battalion burst into a peal of 
 laughter, mingled with a look of admiration, which 
 seemed to denote their entire belief of what they 
 had heard. 
 
 " Boys, widen the ring, so as to give him room to 
 jump." 
 
 " Oh, my little flying wild-cat, hold him if you 
 can ! And, when you get him fast, hold lightning 
 next." 
 
 " Ned, what do you think he 's made of 1 " 
 
 " Steel springs and chicken-hawk, God bless 
 you ! 
 
GEORGIA SCENES. 1 5 
 
 " Gentlemen," said one of Bob's seconds, " I un- 
 derstand it is to be a fair fight ; catch as catch can, 
 rough and tumble ; no man touch till one or the 
 other halloos." 
 
 '* That 's the rule," was the reply from the other 
 side, 
 
 " Are you ready ? " 
 
 *' We are ready." 
 
 " Then blaze away, my game-cocks ! " 
 
 At the word. Bob dashed at his antagonist at full 
 speed ; and Bill squared himself to receive him with 
 one of his most fatal blows. Making his calculation 
 from Bob's velocity of the time when he would 
 come within striking distance, he let drive with 
 tremendous force. But Bob's onset was obviously 
 planned to avoid this blow ; for, contrary to all ex- 
 pectations, he stopped short just out of arm's reach, 
 and before Billy could recover his balance Bob 
 had him "all under-hold." The next second, sure 
 enough, " found Billy's head where his feet ought to 
 be." How it was done no one could tell ; but, as if 
 by supernatural power, both Billy's feet were thrown 
 full half his own height in the air, and he came 
 down with a force that seemed to shake the earth. 
 As he struck the ground, commingled shouts, 
 screams, and yells burst from the lower battalion, 
 loud enough to be heard for miles. "■ Hurrah, my 
 little hornet ! " " Save him ! " " Feed him ! " 
 ** Give him the Durham physic till his stomach 
 turns ! " Billy was no sooner down than Bob was 
 on him, and lending him awful blows about the face 
 and breast. Billy made two efforts to rise by main 
 strength, but failed. " Lord bless you, man, don't 
 try to get up ! Lay still and take it ! You bleege to 
 have it ! " 
 
1 6 ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN LIFE. 
 
 Billy now turned his face suddenly to the ground, 
 and rose upon his hands and knees. Bob jerked 
 up both his hands and threw him on his face. He 
 again recovered his late position, of which Bob en- 
 deavored to deprive him as before ; but, missing 
 one arm, he failed, and Billy rose. But he had 
 scarcely resumed his feet before they flew up as 
 before, and he came again to the ground. *' No 
 fight, gentlemen ! " cried Bob's friends ; '' the man 
 can't stand up ! Bouncing feet are bad things to 
 fight in." His fall, however, was this time com- 
 paratively light, for, having thrown his right arm 
 rouad Bob's neck, he carried his head down with 
 him. This grasp, which was obstinately maintained, 
 prevented Bob from getting on him, and they lay 
 head to head, seeming, for a time, to do nothing. 
 Presently they rose, as if by mutual consent ; and, 
 as they rose, a shout burst from both battalions. 
 '' Oh, my lark ! " cried the east, '* has he foxed you } 
 Do you begin to feel him } He 's only beginning to 
 fight ; he ain't got warm yet." 
 
 " Look yonder ! " cried the west. '' Did n't I tell 
 you so } He hit the ground so hard it jarred his 
 nose off. Now ain't he a pretty man as he stands t 
 He shall have my sister Sal just for his pretty looks. 
 I want to get in the breed of them sort o' men, to 
 drive ugly out of my kinfolks." 
 
 I looked, and saw that Bob had entirely lost his 
 left ear and a large piece from his left cheek. His 
 right eye was a little discolored, and the blood 
 flowed profusely from his wounds. 
 
 Bill presented a hideous spectacle. About a third 
 of his nose, at the lower extremity, was bit off, and 
 his face so swelled and bruised that it was difficult 
 
GEORGIA SCENES. ly 
 
 to discover in it anything of the human visage, 
 much more the fine features which he carried into 
 the ring. 
 
 They were up only long enough for me to make 
 the foregoing discoveries, when down they went 
 again, precisely as before. They no sooner touched 
 the ground than Bill relinquished his hold upon 
 Bob's neck. In this he seemed to all to have for- 
 feited the only advantage which put him upon an 
 equality with his adversary. But the movement 
 was soon explained. Bill wanted this arm for other 
 purposes than defense, and he had made arrange- 
 ments whereby he knew that he could make it an- 
 swer these purposes ; for, when they rose again, he 
 had the middle finger of Bob's left hand in his 
 mouth. He was now secure from Bob's annoying 
 trips ; and he began to lend his adversary tremen- 
 dous blows, every one of which was hailed by a 
 shout from his friends. " Bullets ! " '* Hoss-kicking ! " 
 *' Thunder ! " 
 
 " That '11 do for his face ; now feel his short ribs, 
 Billy ! " 
 
 I now considered the contest settled. I deemed 
 it impossible for any human being to withstand for 
 five seconds the loss of blood which issued from 
 Bob's ear, cheek, nose, and finger, accompanied 
 with such blows as he was receiving. Still he 
 maintained the conflict, and gave blow for blow with 
 considerable effect. But the blows of each became 
 slower and weaker after the first three or four ; and 
 it became obvious that Bill wanted the room which 
 Bob's finger occupied for breathing. He would 
 therefore, probably, in a short time, have let it go, 
 had not Bob anticipated his politeness by jerking 
 
 2 
 
1 8 ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN LIFE. 
 
 away his hand, and making him a present of the 
 finger. He now seized Bill again, and brought him 
 to his knees, but he recovered. He again brought 
 him to his knees, and he again recovered. A third 
 effort, however, brought him down, and Bob on top 
 of him. These efforts seemed to exhaust the little 
 remaining strength of both, and they lay, Bill un- 
 dermost and Bob across his breast, motionless 
 and panting for breath. After a short pause, Bob 
 gathered his hand full of dirt and sand, and was in 
 the act of grinding it in his adversary's eyes, when 
 Bill cried ** Enough ! " Language cannot describe 
 the scene that followed, — the shouts, oaths, frantic 
 gestures, taunts, replies, and little fights, — and there- 
 fore I shall not attempt it. The champions were 
 borne off by their seconds and washed, when many 
 a bleeding wound and ugly bruise was discovered 
 on each which no eye had seen before. 
 
 Many had gathered round Bob, and were in vari- 
 ous ways congratulating and applauding him, when 
 a voice from the centre of the circle cried out, " Boys, 
 hush, and listen to me ! " It proceeded from Squire 
 Loggins, who had made his way to Bob's side, and 
 had gathered his face up into one of its most flatter- 
 ing and intelligible expressions. All were obedient 
 to the squire's command. " Gentlemen," continued 
 he, with a most knowing smile, " is — Sammy — Rey- 
 nold — in — this — company — of — gentlemen t " 
 
 ** Yes," said Sam, " here I am." 
 
 " Sammy," said the squire, winking to the com- 
 pany, and drawing the head of his cane to his mouth 
 with an arch smile as he closed, "I — wish — you 
 — to tell — cousin — Bobby — and — these — gen- 
 tlemen here present — what — your — Uncle — 
 Tommy — said — before — the — fight — began } " 
 
GEORGIA SCENES. I9 
 
 " Oh, get away, Uncle Tom," said Sam, smiling 
 (the squire winked) ; " you don't know nothing about 
 fighting!' (The squire winked again.) " All you 
 know about it is how it '11 begin, how it '11 go on, 
 how it '11 end ; that 's all. Cousin Bob, when you 
 going to fight again, just go to the old man, and let 
 him tell you all about it. If he can't, don't ask no- 
 body else nothing about it, I tell you." 
 
 The squire's foresight was complimented in many 
 ways by the by-standers ; and he retired, advising 
 *' the boys to be at peace, as fighting was a bad busi- 
 ness." 
 
 Durham and Stallings kept their beds for several 
 weeks, and did not meet again for two months. 
 When they met, Billy stepped up to Bob and offered 
 his hand, saying, " Bobby, you 've licked me a fair 
 fight ; but you would n't have done it if I had n't been 
 in the wrong. I ought n't to have treated your wife 
 as I did ; and I felt so through the whole fight ; and 
 it sort o' cowed me." 
 
 ''Well, Billy," said Bob, ''let's be friends. Once 
 in the fight, when you had my finger in your mouth, 
 and was pealing me in the face and breast, I was go- 
 ing to halloo ; but I thought of Petsy, and knew the 
 house would be too hot for me if I got whipped when 
 fighting for her, after always whipping when I fought 
 for myself." 
 
 " Now that 's what I always love to see," said a 
 by-stander. " It 's true, I brought about the fight, 
 but I would n't have done it if it had n't o' been on 
 account of Miss [Mrs.] Durham. But dod etarnally 
 darn my soul, if I ever could stand by and see any 
 woman put upon, much less Miss Durham. If Bobby 
 had n't been there, I 'd o' took it up myself, be darned 
 
20 ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN LIFE. 
 
 if I would n't, even if I 'd o' got whipped for it. But 
 we're all friends now," The reader need hardly be 
 told that this was Ransy Sniffle. 
 
 Thanks to the Christian religion, to schools, col- 
 leges, and benevolent associations, such scenes of 
 barbarism and cruelty as that which I have been 
 just describing are now of rare occurrence, though 
 they may still be occasionally met with in some of 
 the new counties. Wherever they prevail, they are 
 a disgrace to that community. The peace-officers 
 who countenance them deserve a place in the peni- 
 teDtiary. ' 
 
 III. 
 
 THE HORSE-SWAP. 
 
 During the session of the Supreme Court in the 
 village of , about three weeks ago, when a num- 
 ber of people were collected in the principal street 
 of the village, I observed a young man riding up and 
 down the street, as I supposed, in a violent passion. 
 He galloped this way, then that, and then the other ; 
 spurred his horse to one group of citizens, then to 
 another ; then dashed off at half speed, as if fleeing 
 from danger ; and, suddenly checking his horse, re- 
 turned first in a pace, then in a trot, and then in 
 a canter. While he was performing these various 
 evolutions, he cursed, swore, whooped, screamed, 
 and tossed himself in every attitude which man could 
 assume on horseback. In short, he cazwrted most 
 magnanimously (a term which, in our tongue, ex- 
 presses all that I have described, and a little more), 
 and seemed to be setting all creation at defiance. 
 As I like to see all that is passing, I determined to 
 
GEORGIA SCENES. 21 
 
 take a position a little nearer to him, and to ascer- 
 tain, if possible, what it was that affected him so 
 sensibly. Accordingly, I approached a crowd be- 
 fore which he had stopped for a moment, and ex- 
 amined it with the strictest scrutiny. But I could 
 see nothing in it that seemed to have anything to do 
 with the cavorter. Every man appeared to be in 
 good bamor, and all minding their own business. 
 Not one so much as noticed the principal figure. 
 StCi he went on. After a semicolon pause, which 
 my appearance seemed to produce (for he eyed me 
 closely as I approached), he fetched a whoop, and 
 swore that " he could out-swap any live man, woman, 
 or child that ever walked these hills, or that ever 
 straddled horseflesh since the days of old daddy 
 Adam." "Stranger," said he to me, ''did you ever 
 see the Yallow Blossom from Jasper 1 " 
 
 " No," said I, " but I have often heard of him." 
 
 " I 'm the boy," continued he ; "perhaps a leetle 
 — jist a leetle — of the best man at a horse-swap 
 that ever trod shoe-leather." 
 
 I began to feel my situation a little awkward, when 
 I was relieved by a man somewhat advanced in 
 years, who stepped up and began to survey the 
 *' Yallow Blossom's " horse with much apparent in- 
 terest. This drew the rider's attention, and he 
 turned the conversation from me to the stranger. 
 
 "Well, my old coon," said he, "do you want to 
 swap hosses ? " 
 
 " Why, I don't know," replied the stranger. " I 
 believe I 've got a beast I 'd trade with you for that 
 one, if vou like him." 
 
 " Well, fetch up your nag, my old cock ; you 're 
 jist the lark I wanted to get hold of. I am perhaps 
 
22 ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN LIFE. 
 
 a leetle — jist a leetle — of the best man at a horse- 
 swap that ever stole cracklins out of his mammy's 
 fat gourd. Where 's your hoss ? " 
 
 " I '11 bring him presently ; but I want to examine 
 your horse a little." 
 
 " Oh, look at him ! " said the Blossom, alighting 
 and hitting him a cut ; ** look at him ! He 's the 
 best piece of hossflesh in the thirteen united univar- 
 sal worlds. There 's no sort o' mistake in little Bul- 
 let. He can pick up miles on his feet, and fling 
 'em behind him as fast as the next man's hoss, I 
 don't care where he comes from. And he can keep 
 at it as long as the sun can shine without resting." 
 
 During this harangue, little Bullet looked as if he 
 understood it all, believed it, and was ready at any 
 moment to verify it. He was a horse of goodly 
 countenance, rather expressive of vigilance than fire ; 
 though an unnatural appearance of fierceness was 
 thrown into it by the loss of his ears, which had been 
 cropped pretty close to his head. Nature had done 
 but little for Bullet's head and neck : but he man- 
 aged, in a great measure, to hide their defects by 
 bowing perpetually. He had obviously suffered se- 
 verely for corn, but if his ribs and hip-bones had 
 not disclosed the fact, he never would have done it ; 
 for he was in all respects as cheerful and happy as 
 if he commanded all the corn-cribs and fodder-stacks 
 in Georgia. His height was about twelve hands ; 
 but as his shape partook somewhat of that of the 
 giraffe, his haunches stood much lower. They were 
 short, strait, peaked, and concave. Bullet's tail, how- 
 ever, made amends for all his defects. All that the 
 artist could do to beautify it had been done ; and all 
 that horse could do to compliment the artist Bullet 
 
GEORGIA SCENES. 23 
 
 did. His tail was nicked in superior style, and ex- 
 hibited the line of beauty in so many directions that 
 it could not fail to hit the most fastidious taste in 
 some of them. From the root it dropped into a 
 graceful festoon ; then rose in a handsome curve ; 
 then resumed its first direction ; and then mounted 
 suddenly upward like a cypress knee, to a perpendic- 
 ular of about two and a half inches. The whole had 
 a careless and bewitching inclination to the right. 
 Bullet obviously knew where his beauty lay, and 
 took all occasions to display it to the best advantage. 
 If a stick cracked, or if any one moved suddenly 
 about him, or coughed, or hawked, or spoke a little 
 louder than common, up went Bullet's tail like light- 
 ning ; and if the goiiig tip did not please, the coming 
 dowji must of necessity, for it was as different from 
 the other movement as was its direction. The first 
 was a bold and rapid flight upward, usually to an 
 angle of forty-five degrees. In this position he kept 
 his interesting appendage until he satisfied himself 
 that nothing in particular was to be done ; when he 
 commenced dropping it by half inches, in second 
 beats, then in triple time, then faster and shorter, 
 and faster and shorter still, until it finally died away 
 imperceptibly into its natural position. If I might 
 compare sights to sounds, I should say its settling 
 was more like the note of a locust than anything 
 else in nature. 
 
 Either from native sprightliness of disposition, 
 from uncontrollable activity, or from an unconquer- 
 able habit of removing flies by the stamping of the 
 feet, Bullet never stood still ; but always kept up a 
 gentle fly-scaring movement of his limbs, which was 
 peculiarly interesting. 
 
24 ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN LIFE. 
 
 " I tell you, man," proceeded the Yellow Blossom, 
 "he's the best live hoss that ever trod the grit of 
 Georgia. Bob Smart knows the hoss. Come here, 
 Bob, and mount this hoss, and show Bullet's mo- 
 tions." Here Bullet bristled up, and looked as if he 
 had been hunting for Bob all day long, and had just 
 found him. Bob sprang on his back. " Boo-oo-oo ! " 
 said Bob, with a fluttering noise of the lips ; and 
 away went Bullet, as if in a quarter race, with all 
 his beauties spread in handsome style. 
 
 " Now fetch him back," said Blossom. Bullet 
 turned, and came in pretty much as he went out. 
 
 " Now trot him by." Bullet reduced his tail to 
 '''customary^' sidled to the right and left airily, and 
 exhibited at least three varieties of trot in the short 
 space of fifty yards. 
 
 *' Make him pace ! " Bob commenced twitching 
 the bridle, and kicking at the same time. These 
 inconsistent movements obviously (and most natu- 
 rally) disconcerted Bullet ; for it was impossible for 
 him to learn from them whether he was to proceed 
 or stand still. He started to trot, and was told that 
 would n't do. He attempted a canter, and was 
 checked again. He stopped, and was urged to go 
 on. Bullet now rushed into the wide field of experi- 
 ment, and struck out a gait of his own, that com- 
 pletely turned the tables upon his rider, and certainly 
 deserved a patent. It seemed to have derived its 
 elements from the jig, the minuet, and the cotillon. 
 If it was not a pace, it certainly had pace in it, and 
 no man would venture to call it anything else ; so it 
 passed off to the satisfaction of the owner. 
 
 " Walk him ! " Bullet was now at home again, 
 and he walked as if money was staked on him. 
 
GEORGIA SCENES. 2$ 
 
 The Stranger, — whose name, I afterward learned, 
 ^vas Peter Ketch, — having examined Bullet to his 
 heart's content, ordered his son Neddy to go and 
 bring up Kit. Neddy soon appeared upon Kit, 
 a well-formed sorrel of the middle size, and in good 
 order. His tout ensemble threw Bullet entirely in 
 the shade, chough a glance was sufficient to satisfy 
 any one that Bullet had the decided advantage of 
 him in point of intellect. 
 
 "Why, man," said Blossom, "do you bring such 
 a boss as that to trade for Bullet } Oh, I see you 're 
 no notion of trading." 
 
 *' Ride him off, Neddy ! " said Peter. Kit put off 
 at a handsome lope. 
 
 '' Trot him back ! " Kit came in at a long, sweep- 
 ing trot, and stopped suddenly at the crowd. 
 
 *' Well," said Blossom, " let me look at him ; may 
 be he '11 do to plow." 
 
 " Examine him ! " said Peter, taking hold of the 
 bridle close to the mouth ; '' he 's nothing but a 
 tacky. He ain't as pretty a horse as Bullet, I know ; 
 but he '11 do. Start 'em together for a hundred and 
 fifty mile, and if Kit ain't twenty mile ahead of him 
 at the coming cut, any man may take Kit for noth- 
 ing. But he 's a monstrous mean horse, gentlemen ; 
 any man may see that. He 's the scariest horse, 
 too, you ever saw\ He won't do to hunt on, nohow. 
 Stranger, will you let Neddy have your rifle to shoot 
 off him t Lay the rifle between his ears, Neddy, 
 and shoot at the blaze in that stump. Tell me when 
 his head is high enough." 
 
 Ned fired and hit the blaze ; and Kit did not move 
 a hair's breadth. 
 
 " Neddy, take a couple of sticks, and beat on that 
 hogshead at Kit's tail." 
 
26 ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN LIFE. 
 
 Ned made a tremendous rattling, at which Bullet 
 took fright, broke his bridle, and dashed off in grand 
 style, and would have stopped all further negotia- 
 tions by going home in disgust, had not a traveler 
 arrested him and brought him back ; but Kit did nos 
 move. 
 
 *' I tell you, gentlemen," continued Peter, " he 's the 
 scariest horse you ever saw. He ain't as gentle as 
 Bullet, but he won't do any harm if you watch him. 
 Shall I put him in a cart, gig, or wagon for you, 
 stranger ? He '11 cut the same capers there he does 
 here. He 's a monstrous mean horse." 
 
 During all this time Blossom was examining him 
 with the nicest scrutiny. Having examined his frame 
 and limbs, he now looked at his eyes. 
 
 " He 's got a curious look out of his eyes," said 
 Blossom. 
 
 " Oh, yes, sir," said Peter ; " just as blind as a bat. 
 Blind horses always have clear eyes. Make a mo- 
 tion at his eyes, if you please, sir." 
 
 Blossom did so, and Kit threw up his head rather 
 as if something pricked him under the chin than as 
 if fearing a blow. Blossom repeated the experi- 
 ment, and Kit jerked back in considerable aston- 
 ishment. 
 
 ** Stone blind, you see, gentlemen," proceeded 
 Peter; "but he's just as good to travel of a dark 
 night as if he had eyes." 
 
 "Blame my buttons," said Blossom, "if I lik& 
 them eyes." 
 
 " No," said Peter, " nor I neither. I 'd rather 
 have 'em made of diamonds ; but they *11 do, if they 
 don't show as much white as Bullet's." 
 
 " Well," said Blossom, "make a pass at me." 
 
GEORGIA SCENES. 2/ 
 
 " No," said Peter. ** You made the banter ; now 
 make your pass." 
 
 " Well, I 'm never afraid to price my bosses. 
 You must give me twenty -five dollars boot." 
 
 " Oh, certainly ; say fifty, and my saddle and 
 bridle in. Here, Neddy, my son, take away daddy's 
 horse." 
 
 " Well," said Blossom, " I 've made my pass ; now 
 you make yours." 
 
 " I 'm for short talk in a horse-swap, and therefore 
 always tell a gentleman at once what I mean to do. 
 You must give me ten dollars." 
 
 Blossom swore absolutely, roundly, and profanely, 
 that he never would give boot. 
 
 " Well," said Peter, " I did n't care about trading ; 
 but you cut such high shines that I thought I 'd 
 like to back you out, and I 've done it. Gentlemen, 
 you see I 've brought him to a back." 
 
 " Come, old man," said Blossom, '' I 've been jok- 
 ing with you. I begin to think you do want to 
 trade ; therefore, give me five dollars, and take Bul- 
 let. I 'd rather lose ten dollars any time than not 
 make a trade, though T hate to fling away a good 
 boss." 
 
 *' Well," said Peter, '* I '11 be as clever as you are. 
 Just put the five dollars on Bullet's back, and hand 
 him over ; it's a trade." 
 
 Blossom swore again, as roundly as before, that 
 he would not give boot ; and, said he, " Bullet 
 would n't hold five dollars on his back, nohow. 
 But, as I bantered you, if you say an even swap, 
 here 's at you." 
 
 " I told you," said Peter, " I 'd be as clever as 
 you. Therefore, here goes two dollars more, just 
 
28 ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN LIFE. 
 
 for trade' sake. Give me three dollars, and it 's a 
 bargain." 
 
 Blossom repeated his former assertion ; and here 
 the parties stood for a long time, and the by- 
 standers (for many were now collected) began to 
 taunt both parties. After some time, however, it 
 was pretty unanimously decided that the old man 
 had backed Blossom out. 
 
 At length Blossom swore he " never would be 
 backed out for three dollars after bantering a man ; " 
 and, accordingly, they closed the trade. 
 
 ** Now," said Blossom, as he handed Peter the 
 three dollars, " I 'm a man that, when he makes a 
 bad trade, makes the most of it until he can make 
 a better. I 'm for no rues and after-claps." 
 
 "That's just my way," said Peter. " I never goes 
 to law to mend my bargains." 
 
 " Ah, you 're the kind of boy I love to trade with. 
 Here 's your boss, old man. Take the saddle and 
 bridle off him, and I '11 strip yours ; but lift up the 
 blanket easy from Bullet's back, for he 's a mighty 
 tender-backed boss." 
 
 The old man removed the saddle, but the blanket 
 stuck fast. He attempted to raise it, and Bullet 
 bowed himself, switched his tail, danced a little, and 
 gave signs of biting. 
 
 " Don't hurt him, old man," said Blossom, archly ; 
 "take it off easy. I am, perhaps, a leetle of the 
 best man at a horse-swap that ever catched a coon." 
 
 Peter continued to pull at the blanket more and 
 more roughly, and Bullet became more and more 
 cavortish ; insomuch that, when the blanket came 
 off, he had reached the kicking point in good 
 earnest 
 
GEORGIA SCENES. 29 
 
 The removal of the blanket disclosed a sore on 
 Bullet's backbone that seemed to have defied all 
 medical skill. It measured six full inches in length 
 and four in breadth, and had as many features as 
 Bullet had motions. My heart sickened at the 
 sight ; and I felt that the brute who had been rid- 
 ing him in that situation deserved the halter. 
 
 The prevailing feeling, however, was that of mirth. 
 The laugh became loud and general at the old man's 
 expense, and rustic witticisms were liberally be- 
 stowed upon him and his late purchase. These 
 Blossom continued to provoke by various remarks. 
 He asked trhe old man "if he thought Bullet would 
 let five dollars lie on his back." He declared most 
 seriously that he had owned that horse three months, 
 and had never discovered before that he had a sore 
 back, *' or he never should have thought of trading 
 him," etc., etc. 
 
 The old man bore it all with the most philosophic 
 composure. He evinced no astonishment at his late 
 discovery, and made no replies. But his son Neddy 
 had not disciplined his feelings quite so well. His 
 eyes opened wider and wider from the first to the 
 last pull of the blanket ; and, when the whole sore 
 burst upon his view, astonishment and fright seemed 
 to contend for the mastery of his countenance. As 
 the blanket disappeared, he stuck his hands in his 
 breeches pockets, heaved a deep sigh, and lapsed 
 into a profound reverie, from which he was only 
 roused by the cuts at his father. He bore them as 
 long as he could ; and, when he could contain him- 
 self no longer, he began, with a certain wildness of 
 expression which gave a peculiar interest to what he 
 uttered : " His back 's mighty bad off ; but dod drot 
 
30 ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN LIFE. 
 
 my soul if he 's put it to daddy as bad as he thinks 
 he has, for old Kit 's both blind and deef, I '11 be dod 
 drot if he eint." 
 
 " The devil he is ! " said Blossom, 
 
 "Yes, dod drot my soul if he eint. You walk him, 
 and see if he eint. His eyes don't look like it ; but 
 he 'd jist as leve go agin the house with you, or in 
 a ditch, as anyhow. Now you go try him." The 
 laugh was now turned on Blossom, and many rushed 
 to test the fidelity of the little boy's report. A few 
 experiments established its truth beyond contro- 
 versy. 
 
 "Neddy," said the old man, "you ought-n't to try 
 and make people discontented with their things. 
 Stranger, don't mind what the Httle boy says. If 
 you can only get Kit rid of them little failings^ 
 you '11 find him all sorts of a horse. You are a leetle 
 the best man at a horse-swap that ever I got hold 
 of ; but don't fool away Kit. Come, Neddy, my son, 
 let 's be moving ; the stranger seems to be getting 
 snappish." 
 
 IV. 
 
 THE MILITIA DRILL. 
 
 I happened, not long since, to be present at the 
 muster of a captain's company in a remote part of 
 one of the counties ; and as no general description 
 could convey an accurate idea of the achievements 
 of that day, I must be permitted to go a little into 
 detail, as well as my recollection will serve me. 
 
 The men had been notified to meet at nine 
 o'clock, " armed and equipped as the law directs ; " 
 that is to say, with a gun and cartridge-box at lea»t, 
 
GEORGIA SCENES. 3 1 
 
 but, as directed by the law of the United States, 
 " with a good firelock, a sufficient bayonet and belt, 
 and a pouch with a box to contain no less than 
 twenty-four sufficient cartridges of powder and 
 ball." 
 
 At twelve, about one third, perhaps one half, of 
 the men had collected, and an inspector's return of 
 the number present and of their arms would have 
 stood nearly thus : i captain ; i lieutenant ; ensign, 
 none ; fifers, none ; privates present, 24 ; ditto ab- 
 sent, 40; guns, 14; gunlocks, 12; ramrods, 10; 
 rifle pouches, 3; bayonets, none ; belts, none ; spare 
 flints, none; cartridges, none; horsewhips, walking 
 canes, and umbrellas, 10. A little before one, the 
 captain, whom I shall distinguish by the name of 
 Clodpole, gave directions for forming the line of 
 parade. In obedience to this order, one of the 
 sergeants, whose lungs had long supplied the place 
 of a drum and fife, placed himself in front of the 
 house, and began to bawl with great vehemence, 
 *'A11 Captain Clodpole's company parade here! 
 Come, GENTLEMEN, parade here ! " says he. " All 
 you that has n't got guns fall into the lower ee^id!' 
 He might have bawled till this time, with as little 
 success as the sirens sung to Ulysses, had he not 
 changed his post to a neighboring shade. There he 
 was immediately joined by all who were then at 
 leisure; the others were at that time engaged as 
 parties or spectators at a game of fives, and could 
 not just then attend. However, in less than half an 
 hour the game was finished, and the captain enabled 
 to form his company, and proceed in the duties of 
 the day. 
 
 " Look to the right and dress ! " 
 
32 ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN LIFE. 
 
 They were soon, by the help of the non-commis- 
 sioned officers, placed in a straight line ; but, as 
 every man was anxious to see how the rest stood, 
 those on the wings pressed forward for that pur- 
 pose, till the whole line assumed nearly the form of 
 a crescent. 
 
 " Why, look at 'em ! " says the captain. " Why, 
 gentlemen, you are all a-crooking in at both eends, 
 so that you will get on to me by and by ! Come, 
 gentlemen, dress, dress I " 
 
 This was accordingly done ; but, impelled by the 
 same motives as before, they soon resumed their 
 former figure, and so they were permitted to remain. 
 
 " Now, gentlemen," says the captain, " I am going 
 to carry you through the revolutions of the manual 
 exercise, and I want you, gentlemen, if you please, 
 to pay particular attention to the word of command, 
 just exactly as I give it out to you. I hope you will 
 have a little patience, gentlemen, if you please ; and 
 if I should be a-going wrong, I will be much obliged 
 to any of you, gentlemen, to put me right again ; for 
 I mean all for the best, and I hope you will excuse 
 me, if you please. And one thing, gentlemen, I 
 caution you against in particular, and that is this : 
 not to make any mistakes, if you can possibly help 
 it ; and the best way to do this will be to do all the 
 motions right at first, and that will help us to get 
 along so much the faster, and I will try to have it 
 over as soon as possible. Come, boys, come to a 
 shoulder. 
 
 " Poise, foolk 1 1 
 
 " Cock, foolk 1 Very handsomely done. 
 
 1 A contraction and corruption of " firelock." Thus : ** firelock," 
 "flock," "foolk." 
 
GEORGIA SCENES. 53 
 
 " Take, aim ! 
 
 " Ram down^ catridge ! No ! no ! Fire ! I recol- 
 lect now that firing comes next after taking aim, ac- 
 cording to Steuben ; but, with your permission, gen- 
 tlemen, I '11 r^^<^ the words of command just exactly 
 ixS they are printed in the book, and then I shall be 
 sure to be right." 
 
 *' Oh, yes ! Read it, captain, read it ! " exclaimed 
 twenty voices at once. " That will save time." 
 
 "*Teiition the whole! Please to observe, gentle- 
 men, that at the word ' fire ' you must fire ; that is, 
 if any of your guns are loadeiid, you must not shoot 
 \Tv yeaniest, but only make pretense like; and you, 
 gentlemen fellow-soldiers, who 's armed with nothing 
 but sticks, riding-switches, and corn-stalks need n't 
 go through the firings, but stand as you are, and 
 keep yourselves to yourselves. 
 
 ** Half cock, foolk ! Very well done. 
 
 *' S-h-e-t [spelling] — Shet, paji I That too would 
 have been handsomely done, if you had n't handled 
 catridge instead of shetting pan ; but I suppose you 
 was n't noticing. Now 'tention, one and all, gentle- 
 men, and do that motion again. 
 
 " Shet, pail I Very good, very well indeed ; you 
 did that motion equal to any old soldier ; you im- 
 prove astonishingly. 
 
 ^'Handle, catridge! Pretty well, considering you 
 done it wrong end foremost, as if you took the cat- 
 ridge out of your mouth, and bit off the twist with 
 the catridge-box. 
 
 ** Draw, rammer ! Those who have no rammers 
 to their guns need not draw, but only make the mo- 
 tion ; it will do just as well, and save a great deal of 
 time. 
 
 3 
 
34 ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN LIFE. 
 
 '' Reticrn, rammer ! Very well again. But that 
 would have been done, I think, with greater expert- 
 ness if you had performed the motion with a Uttle 
 more dexterity. 
 
 " S-h-o-ti-l — Shoulder, foolk ! Very handsomely 
 done indeed ! Put your guns on the other shoulder, 
 gentlemen. 
 
 " Order, foolk ! Not quite so well, gentlemen ; hot 
 quite all together. But perhaps I did not speak loud 
 enough for you to hear me all at once. Try once 
 more, if you please. I hope you will be patient, gen- 
 tlemen ; we will soon be through. 
 
 " Order, foolk ! Handsomely done, gentlemen, — 
 very handsomely done ! and all together, too, except 
 that one half of you were a leetle too soon, and the 
 other half a leetle too late. 
 
 " In laying down your guns, 2:entlemen, take care 
 to lay the locks up and the other side down. 
 
 " * Tention the zvhole ! Ground, foolk I Very well. 
 
 *' Charge, bayonet ! " 
 
 {Some of the men) " That can't be, captain : pray 
 look again ; for how can we charge bayonet without 
 our guns } " 
 
 [Captain) '' I don't know as to that, but I know I 'm 
 right, for here 't is printed in the book : c-h-a-r — 
 yes, charge bayonet, that 's right, that 's the word, 
 if I know how to read. Come, gentlemen, do pray 
 charge bayonet ! Charge, I say ! Why don't you 
 charge ? Do you think it ain't so ? Do you think 
 I have lived to this time o' day, and don't know 
 what charge bayonet is } Here, come here ; you 
 may see for yourselves ; it 's as plain as the nose 
 on your fa — Stop — stay — no — halt ! no ! Faith, 
 I 'm wrong ! I turned over two leaves at once. I beg 
 
GEORGIA SCENES. 
 
 35 
 
 your pardon ; we will not stay out iongy and we '11 
 have something to drink as soon as we have done. 
 Come, boys, get off the stumps and logs, and take 
 up your guns ; we '11 soon be done. Excuse me, if 
 you please. 
 
 '' Fix, bayonet ! 
 
 ''Advance, arms ! Very well done. Turn the stocks 
 of your guns in front, gentlemen, and that will bring 
 the barrels behind ; hold them straight up and down, 
 if you please ; let go with your left, and take hold 
 with your right hand below the guard. Steuben says 
 the gun should be held p-e-r — perticlar ; yes, you 
 must always mind and hold your guns very pertic'lar. 
 Now, boys, 'tention the whole ! 
 
 ^' Present, arms ! Very handsomely done ! Only 
 hold your gun over t' other knee — t' other hand up 
 — turn your hands round a little, and raise them up 
 higher — draw t' other foot back — now you are 
 nearly right — very well done. 
 
 " Gentlemen, we come now to the revohitio7is. 
 Men, you have all got into a sort of snarl, as I may 
 say ; how did you all get into such a higglety-pig- 
 glety .? " 
 
 The fact was, the shade had moved considerably 
 to the eastward, and had exposed the right wing of 
 these hardy veterans to a galling fire of the sun. 
 Being poorly provided with umbrellas at this end 
 of the line, they found it convenient to follow the 
 shade ; and in huddling to the left for this purpose, 
 they changed the figure of their line from that of 
 a crescent to one which more nearly resembled a 
 pair of pothooks. 
 
 ** Come, gentlemen," says the captain, "spread 
 yourselves out again into a straight line ; and let us 
 
36 ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN LIFE. 
 
 get into the wheelings and other matters as soon as 
 possible." 
 
 But this was strenuously opposed by the soldiers. 
 They objected to going into the reiwhitioiis at all, in- 
 asmuch as the weather was extremely hot, and they 
 had already been kept in the field upwards of three 
 quarters of an hour. They reminded the captain of 
 his repeated promise to be as short as he possibly 
 could, and it was clear he could dispense with all 
 this wheeHng and flourishing if he chose. They 
 were already very thirsty, and if he would not dis- 
 miss them they declared they would go off without 
 dismission, and get something to drink, and he might 
 fine them, if that would do him any good ; they were 
 able to pay their fine, but would not go without drink 
 to please anybody ; and they swore they would never 
 vote for another captain who wished to be so unrea- 
 sonably strict. 
 
 The captain behaved with great spirit upon the 
 occasion, and a smart colloquy ensued ; when at 
 length becoming exasperated to the last degree, he 
 roundly asserted that no soldier ought ever to tJiiiik 
 hardoi the orders of his officer ; and, finally, he went 
 so far as to say that he did not think any gentleman 
 on that ground had any just cause to be offended 
 with him. The dispute was finally settled by the 
 captain sending for some grog for their present ac- 
 commodation, and agreeing to omit reading the mil- 
 itary law and the performance of all the manoeuvres, 
 except two or three such easy and simple ones as 
 could be performed within the compass of the shade. 
 After they had drank their grog and had ''spread 
 themselves," they were divided into platoons. 
 
 **'Tention the whole ! To the right wheel ! 
 
 n 
 
GEORGIA SCENES. 37 
 
 Each man faced to the right about. 
 
 ** Why, gentlemen, I did not mean for every man 
 to stand still and turn himself ;^«'trally right round ; 
 but when I told you to wheel to the right, I intended 
 you to wheel round to the right, as it were. Please 
 to try again, gentlemen ; every right-hand man must 
 stand fast, and only the others turn round." 
 
 In the previous part of the exercise, it had, for the 
 purpose of sizing, been necessary to denominate 
 every second person a " right-hand man." A very 
 natural consequence w^as that, on the present occa- 
 sion, these right-hand men maintained their position, 
 all the intermediate ones facing about as before. 
 
 " Why, look at 'em, now ! " exclaimed the captain, 
 in extreme vexation. " I '11 be d — d if you understand 
 a word I say. Excuse me, gentlemen, it rayly seems 
 as if you could not come at it exactly. In wheeling 
 to the right, the right-hand eend of the platoon 
 stands fast, and the other ee7id comes round like a 
 swingle-tree. Those on the outside must march 
 faster than those on the inside. You certainly must 
 understand me now, gentlemen ; and please to try it 
 once more," 
 
 In this they were a little more successful. 
 
 " ' Tention the whole ! To the left — left, no — 
 7'ight — tJiat is, the left — ■ / mean the right — lefty 
 wheel, march !'' 
 
 In this he was strictly obeyed ; some wheeling to 
 the right, some to the left, and some to the right- 
 left, or both ways. 
 
 " Stop ! halt I Let us try it again ! I could not 
 just then tell my right hand from my left ! You 
 must excuse me, if you please ; experience makes 
 perfect, as the saying is. Long as I have served, I 
 
38 ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN LIFE. 
 
 find something new to learn every day ; but all 's 
 one for that. Now, gentlemen, do that motion once 
 more." 
 
 By the help of a non-commissioned officer in front 
 of each platoon, they wheeled this time with consid- 
 erable regularity. 
 
 *' Now, boys, you must try to wheel by divisions ; 
 and there is one thing in particular which I have to 
 request of you, gentlemen, and that is not to make 
 any blunder in your wheeling. You must mind and 
 keep at a wheeling distance, and not talk in the 
 ranks, nor get out of fix again ; for I want you to 
 do this motion well, and not to make any blunder 
 now. 
 
 ** ' Tentioii the whole ! By divisions^ to the right 
 wheel, march ! " 
 
 In doing this it seemed as if Bedlam had broke 
 loose : every man took the command. Not so fast 
 on the right ! Slow now ! Haul down those um- 
 brellas ! Faster on the left ! Keep back a little 
 there ! Don't scroiige so ! Hold up your gun, Sam ! 
 
 Go faster there! faster! Who trod on my .-* 
 
 D — n your huffs ! Keep back ! Stop us, captain, 
 do stop us ! Go faster there ! I 've lost my shoe ! 
 Get up again, Ned ! Halt ! halt ! halt ! Stop, gen- 
 tlemen ! stop ! stop I 
 
 By this time they had got into uttei and inextri- 
 cable confusion, and so I left them. 
 
SIMON SUGGS. 
 
 Johnson J. Hooper, the author of " Simon Suggs," was a native 
 of North Carolina, who removed when a young man to Alabanaa, 
 where he led a variously successful career as a whig journalist. In 
 this line, his most successful venture was the " Montgomery Mail," 
 which he edited with spirit for a number of years, and to which he 
 gave a national reputation. He died toward the close of the sec- 
 tional war at Richmond, Va., being at the time secretary to the Con- 
 federate Senate. 
 
 Mr. Hooper was a most genial and entertaining person, and the 
 central figure of a brilliant coterie of writers and speakers. Of 
 these, S. S. Prentiss and George D. Prentice were the most con- 
 spicuous ; and they always regarded him and spoke of him as theii 
 peer. He was not, in public life, so aggressive as they, and there- 
 fore he failed to leave so deep a personal impress upon his time. 
 But he had both sense and wit, and was very effective in the party 
 campaigns of the period. 
 
 His " History of the Life and Adventures of Captain Simon Suggs, 
 of the Tallapoosa Volunteers," may be, and indeed it is, but a 
 charcoal sketch. Yet, in its way, it is a masterpiece. No one who 
 is at all familiar with the provincial life of the South can fail to 
 recognize the " points " of this sharp and vulgar, sunny and venal 
 swash-buckler. As serio-comic as Sellers, as grotesque as Shingle, 
 he possesses an originality all his own, and never for a moment 
 rises above or falls below it. He is a gambler by nature, by habit, 
 by preference, by occupation. Without a virtue in the world, ex- 
 cept his good humor and his self-possession, there is something in 
 his vices, his indolence, his swagger, his rogueries, which, in spite of 
 the worthlessness of the man and the dishonesty of his practices, 
 detains and amuses us. Pie is a representative character, the Sam 
 Slick of the South ; only, I should say, the Sam Slick of Judge 
 Haliburton is not nearly so true to nature, so graphic, or so pic- 
 turesque. 
 
 It has often been stated that Simon was taken from a real per- 
 sonage by the name of Bird, and the story goes that this individual 
 
40 ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN LIFE. 
 
 did on a certain occasion call Mr. Hooper to account for making 
 too free with his lineaments and practices. It may be so ; but the 
 likelihood is that the author in this instance followed the example 
 of other writers of fiction, and drew his hero from many scraps and 
 odd ends of individual character to be encountered at the time in the 
 county towns and upon the rural highways of the South. At all 
 events, Simon has survived the ephemeral creations of contemporary 
 humor, and is as fresh and lively to-day as he was five and thirty 
 years ago. 
 
 In the examples here given, continuity was out of the question, 
 and I have confined the selections made to such as seemed to do 
 Captain Suggs the fullest justice 
 
 I. 
 
 SIMON STARTS IN THE WORLD. 
 
 Until Simon entered his seventeenth year, he 
 lived with his father, an old " hard shell " Baptist 
 preacher, who, though very pious and remarkably 
 austere, was very avaricious. The old man reared 
 his boys — or endeavored to do so — according to 
 the strictest requisitions of the moral law. But he 
 lived, at the time to which we refer, in Middle 
 Georgia, which was then newly settled ; and Simon, 
 whose wits were always too sharp for his father's, 
 contrived to contract all the coarse vices incident 
 to such a region. He stole his mother's roosters to 
 fight them at Bob Smith's grocery, and his father's 
 plow-horses to enter them in " quarter " matches 
 at the same place. He pitched dollars with Bob 
 Smith himself, and could " beat him into doll rags " 
 whenever it came to a measurement. To crown his 
 accomplishments, Simon was tip-top at the game of 
 " old sledge," which was the fashionable game of 
 that era, and was early initiated in the mysteries 
 of " stocking the papers." The vicious habits of 
 
SIMON SUGGS. 41 
 
 Simon were, of course, a sore trouble to his father, 
 Elder Jedediah. He reasoned, he counseled, he re- 
 monstrated, and he lashed ; but Simon was an in- 
 corrigible, irreclaimable devil. One day the simple- 
 minded old man returned rather unexpectedly to 
 the field, where he had left Simon and Ben and a 
 negro boy named Bill at work. Ben was still fol- 
 lowing his plow, but Simon and Bill were in a 
 fence corner, very earnestly engaged at " seven up." 
 Of course the game was instantly suspended as 
 soon as they spied the old man, sixty or seventy 
 yards off, striding towards them. 
 
 It was evidently a " gone case " with Simon and 
 Bill ; but our hero determined to make the best of 
 it. Putting the cards into one pocket, he coolly 
 picked up the small coins which constituted the 
 stake, and fobbed them in the other, remarking, 
 " Well, Bill, this game 's blocked ; we 'd as well 
 quit." 
 
 " But, mass Simon," remarked the boy, " half dat 
 money 's mine. Ain't you gwine to lemme hab 
 'em •> " 
 
 " Oh, never mind the money. Bill ; the old man 's 
 going to take the bark off both of us ; and besides, 
 with the hand I belt when we quit, I should 'a beat 
 you and won it all, any way." 
 
 " Well, but mass Simon, we nebber finish de 
 game, and de rule " — 
 
 ** Go to the devil with your rule ! " said the im- 
 patient Simon. " Don't you see daddy 's right down 
 upon us, with an armful of hickories } I tell you, 
 I belt nothin' but trumps, and could 'a' beat the 
 horns off of a billy-goat. Don't that satisfy you ? 
 Somehow or another, you 're d — d hard to please ! " 
 
42 ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN LIFE. 
 
 About this time a thought struck Simon, and in a 
 low tone — for by this time the Reverend Jedediah 
 was close at hand — he continued, '' But may be 
 daddy don't know, rigJit down stire, what we 've 
 been doin'. Let's try him with a lie, — 't won't 
 hurt, noway : let 's tell him we 've been playin' 
 mumble-peg." 
 
 Bill was perforce compelled to submit to this in- 
 equitable adjustment of his claim to a share of the 
 stakes ; and of course agreed to swear to the game 
 of mumble-peg. All this was settled, and a peg 
 driven into the ground, slyly and hurriedly, between 
 Simon's legs as he sat on the ground, just as the 
 old man reached the spot. He carried under his 
 left arm several neatly-trimmed sprouts of formi- 
 dable length, while in his left hand he held one 
 which he was intently engaged in divesting of its 
 superfluous twigs. 
 
 " Soho, youngsters ! — you in the fence corner, 
 and the crap in the grass. What saith the Scriptur', 
 Simon .? ' Go to the ant, thou sluggard,' and so 
 forth and so on. What in the round creation of the 
 yeath have you and that nigger been a-doin' .? " 
 
 Bill shook with fear, but Simon was cool as a 
 cucumber, and answered his father to the effect that 
 they had been wasting a little time in the game of 
 mumble-peg. 
 
 " Mumble-peg ! mumble-peg ! " repeated old Mr. 
 
 Suggs. " What 's that > " 
 
 Simon explained the process of rooting for the 
 peg : how the operator got upon his knees, keeping 
 his arms stiff by his sides, leaned forward, and ex- 
 tracted the peg with his teeth. 
 
 " So you git iipon your kiiees, do you, to pull up 
 

 " With a loud yell, Bill plunged forward." See page 43. 
 
SIMON SUGGS. 43 
 
 that nasty little stick ! You 'd better git upon 'em 
 to ask mercy for your sinful souls and for a dyin' 
 world. But let 's see one o' you git the peg up now." 
 The first impulse of our hero was to volunteer to 
 gratify the curiosity of his worthy sire, but a glance 
 at the old man's countenance changed his " notion," 
 and he remarked that " Bill was a long ways the best 
 hand." Bill, who did not deem Simon's modesty an 
 omen very favorable to himself, was inclined to re- 
 ciprocate compliments with his young master ; but 
 a gesture of impatience from the old man set him 
 instantly upon his knees, and, bending forward, he 
 essayed to lay hold with his teeth of the peg, which 
 Simon, just at that moment, very wickedly pushed a 
 half inch further down. Just as the breeches and 
 hide of the boy were stretched to the uttermost, old 
 Mr. Suggs brought down his longest hickory, with 
 both hands, upon the precise spot where the tension 
 was greatest. With a loud yell. Bill plunged for- 
 ward, upsetting Simon, and rolled in the grass, rub- 
 bing the castigated part with fearful energy. Simon, 
 though overthrown, was unhurt ; and he was men- 
 tally complimenting himself upon the sagacity which 
 had prevented his illustrating the game of mumble- 
 peg for the paternal amusement, when his attention 
 was arrested by the old man's stooping to pick up 
 something — what is it.-* — a card upon which Si- 
 mon had been sitting, and which, therefore, had not 
 gone with the rest of the pack into his pocket. 
 The simple Mr. Suggs had only a vague idea of the 
 pasteboard abomination called cards ; and though 
 he decidedly inclined to the opinion that this was 
 one, he was by no means certain of the fact. Had 
 Simon known this he would certainly have escaped ; 
 
44 ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN LIFE. 
 
 but he did not. His father, assuming the look of 
 extreme sapiency which is always worn by the in- 
 terrogator who does not desire or expect to increase 
 his knowledge by his questions, asked, — 
 
 " What 's this, Simon ? " 
 
 " The Jack-a-dimunts," promptly responded Si- 
 mon, who gave up all as lost after \)l{\^ faux pas. 
 
 " What was it doin' down thar, Simon, my sonny ? " 
 continued Mr. Suggs, in an ironically affectionate 
 tone of voice. 
 
 " I had it under my leg, thar, to make it on Bill, 
 the first time it come trumps," was the ready reply. 
 
 ''What's trumps .?" asked Mr. Suggs, with a view 
 of arriving at the import of the word. 
 
 " Nothin' ain't trumps 7ww',' said Simon, who 
 misapprehended his father's meaning, *' but clubs 
 was, when you come along and busted up the game." 
 
 A part of this answer was Greek to the Reverend 
 Mr. Suggs, but a portion of it was full of meaning. 
 They had, then, most unquestionably, been " throw- 
 ing" cards, the scoundrels! the ''oudacious" little 
 hellions ! 
 
 *'To the ' mulberry ' with both on ye, in a hurry," 
 said the old man sternly. But the lads were not dis- 
 posed to be in a *' hurry," for the " mulberry " was 
 the scene of all formal punishment administered 
 durino: work hours in the field. Simon followed his 
 father, however, but made, as he went along, all 
 manner of '' faces " at the old man's back ; gesticu- 
 lated as if he were going to strike him between the 
 shoulders with his fists, and kicking at him so as 
 almost to touch his coat tail with his shoe. In this 
 style they walked on to the mulberry-tree, in whose 
 shade Simon's brother Ben was resting. 
 
SIMON SUGGS. 45 
 
 It must not be supposed that, during the walk to 
 the place of punishment, Simon's mind was either 
 inactive, or engaged in suggesting the grimaces and 
 contortions wherewith he was pantomimically ex- 
 pressing his irreverent sentiments toward his father. 
 Far from it. The movements of his limbs and fea- 
 tures were the mere workings of habit — the self- 
 grinding of the corporeal machine — for which his 
 reasoning half was only remotely responsible. For 
 while Simon's person was thus, on its own account, 
 '' making game " of old Jed'diah, his wits, in view 
 of the anticipated flogging, were dashing, springing, 
 bounding, darting about, in hot chase of some expe- 
 dient suitable to the necessities of the case ; much 
 after the manner in which puss — when Betty, armed 
 with the broom, and hotly seeking vengeance for 
 pantry robbed or bed defiled, has closed upon her 
 the garret doors and windows — attempts all sorts 
 of impossible exits, to come down at last in the cor- 
 ner, with panting side and glaring eye, exhausted 
 and defenseless. Our unfortunate hero could de- 
 vise nothing by which he could reasonably expect 
 to escape the heavy blows of his father. Having 
 arrived at this conclusion and the *' mulberry " 
 about the same time, he stood with a dogged look, 
 awaiting the issue. 
 
 The old man Suggs made no remark to any one 
 while he was seizing up Bill, — a process which, 
 though by no means novel to Simon, seemed to ex- 
 cite in him a sort of painful interest. He watched 
 it closely, as if endeavoring to learn the precise 
 fashion of his father's knot ; and when at last Bill 
 was swung up a-tiptoe to a limb, and the whipping 
 commenced, Simon's eye followed every movement 
 
46 ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN II FE. 
 
 of his father's arm ; and as each blow descended 
 upon the bare shoulders of his sable friend, his own 
 body writhed and " wriggled " in involuntary sym- 
 pathy. 
 
 '* It 's the devil, it is," said Simon to himself, 
 " to take such a wallopin' as that. Why, the old 
 man looks like he wants to git to the holler, if he 
 could, — rot his old picter ! It 's wuth, at the least, 
 fifty cents — je-e-miny, how that hurt! — yes, it 's 
 wuth three-quarters of a dollar to take that 'ere 
 lickin' ! Wonder if I 'm ' predestinated,' as old 
 Jed'diah says, to git the feller to it ? Lord, how 
 daddy blows ! I do wish to God he 'd bust wide 
 open, the durned old deer-face ! If 't wa'n't for Ben 
 helpin' him, I b'lieve I 'd give the old dog a tus- 
 sel when it comes to my turn. It could n't make 
 the thing no wuss, if it did n't make it no better. 
 'Drot it ! what do boys have daddies for, anyhow } 
 'T ain't for nuthin' but jist to beat 'em and work 
 *em. There 's some use in mammies. I kin poke 
 my finger right in the old 'oman's eye, and keep it 
 thar ; and if I say it ain't thar, she '11 say so, too. I 
 wish she was here to hold daddy off. If 't wa'n't so 
 fur I'd holler for her, anyhow. How she would 
 cling to the old fellow's coat tail ! " 
 
 Mr. Jedediah Suggs let down Bill and untied him. 
 Approaching Simon, whose coat was off, '* Come, 
 Simon, son," said he, " cross them hands ; I 'm gwine 
 to correct you." 
 
 " It ain't no use, daddy," said Simon. 
 
 "Why so, Simon.?" 
 
 " Jist bekase it ain't. I 'm gwine to play cards 
 as long as I live. When I go off to myself, I 'm 
 gwine to make my livin' by it. So what 's the use 
 uf beatin' me about i^. '* " 
 
 <a± 
 
SIMON SUGGS. 47 
 
 Old Mr. Suggs groaned, as he was wont to do in 
 the pulpit, at this display of Simonis viciousness. 
 
 *' Simon," said he, " you 're a poor ignunt creetur. 
 You don't know nuthin', and you 've never bin no- 
 whars. If I was to turn you off, you 'd starve in a 
 week " — 
 
 *' I wish you 'd try me," said Simon, " and jist see. 
 I 'd win more money in a week than you can make 
 in a year. There ain't nobody round here kin make 
 seed corn off o' me at cards. I 'm rale smart," he 
 added, with great emphasis. 
 
 " Simon ! Simon ! you poor unlettered fool. Don't 
 you know that all card-players and chicken-fighters 
 and horse-racers go to hell } You crack-brained 
 creetur, you ! And don't you know that them that 
 plays cards always loses their money, and " — 
 
 " Who wins it all, then, daddy } " asked Simon. 
 
 " Shet your mouth, you imperdent, slack-jawed 
 dog ! Your daddy 's a-tryin' to give you some good 
 advice, and you a-pickin' up his words that way. I 
 knowed a young man once, when I lived in Ogle- 
 tharp, as went down to Augusty and sold a hundred 
 dollars' worth of cotton for his daddy, and some o' 
 them gambollers got him to drinkin', and the very 
 first night he was with 'em they got every cent of 
 his money." 
 
 " They could n't get my money in a week'' said 
 Simon. "Anybody can git these here green feller's 
 money ; them 's the sort I 'm a-gwine to watch for 
 myself. Here 's what kin fix the papers jist about 
 as nice as anybody." 
 
 " Well, it 's no use to argify about the matter," 
 said old-Jed'diah. " What saith the Scriptur' } ' He 
 that begetteth a fool, doeth it to his sorrow.' Hence. 
 
48 ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN LIFE. 
 
 Simon, you 're a poor, misubble fool, — so cross youi 
 hands ! " 
 
 "You'd jist as well not, daddy ; I tell you I'm 
 gwine to follow playin' cards for a livin', and what 's 
 the use o' bangin' a feller about it ? I 'm as smart 
 as any of 'em, and Bob Smith says them Augusty 
 fellers can't make rent off o' me." 
 
 The reverend Mr. Suggs had once in his life gone 
 to Augusta ; an extent of travel which in those days 
 was a little unusual. His consideration among his 
 neighbors was considerably increased by the circum- 
 stance, as he had all the benefit of the popular 
 inference that no man could visit the city of Augusta 
 without acquiring a vast superiority over all his un- 
 traveled neighbors, in every department of human 
 knowledge. Mr. Suggs, then, very naturally, felt 
 ineffably indignant that an individual who had never 
 seen any collection of human habitations larger than 
 a log-house village — an individual, in short, no other 
 or better than Bob Smith — should venture to express 
 an opinion concerning the manners, customs, or any- 
 thing else appertaining to, or in any wise connected 
 with, the ultima T/mle of backwoods Georgians. 
 There were two propositions which witnessed their 
 own truth to the mind of Mr. Suggs : the one was 
 that a man who had never been at Augusta could 
 not know anything about that city, or any place, or 
 anything else ; the other, that one who had been 
 there must, of necessity, be not only well informed 
 as to all things connected with the city itself, but 
 perfectly au fait upon all subjects whatsoever. It 
 was therefore in a tone of mingled indignation and 
 contempt that he replied to the last remark of Simon. 
 
 " Bob Smith says, does he .-* And who 's Boh 
 
SIMON SUGGS. 49 
 
 Smith? Much does Bob Smith know about Au- 
 gusty ! He 's been thar, I reckon ! Slipped off yerly 
 some mornin', when nobody warn't noticin', and got 
 back afore night ! It 's 07ily a hundred and fifty mile. 
 Oh, yes, Bob Smith knows all about it ! / don't 
 know nothin' about it ! / ain't never been to Au- 
 gusty — /could n't find the road thar, I reckon — ha, 
 ha ! Bob — Smi-th I If he was only to see one o' 
 them fine gentlemen in Augusty, with his fine broad- 
 cloth, and bell-crown hat, and shoe-boots a-shinin' 
 like silver, he'd take to the woods and kill himself 
 a-runnin'. Bob Smith ! that 's whar all your devil- 
 ment comes from, Simon." 
 
 " Bob Smith 's as good as anybody else, I judge ; 
 and a heap smarter than some. He showed me how 
 to cut Jack," continued Simon, *' and that 's more 
 nor some people can do, if they have been to Au- 
 gusty." 
 
 " If Bob Smith kin do it," said the old man, " I 
 kin, too. I don't know it by that name ; but if it *s 
 book knowledge or plain sense, and Bob kin do it, 
 it's reasonable to s'pose that old Jed'diah Suggs 
 won't be bothered bad. Is it any ways similyar to 
 the rule of three, Simon } " 
 
 " Pretty similyar, daddy, but not adzactly," said 
 Simon, drawing a pack from his pocket, to explain. 
 ** Now, daddy," he proceeded, "you see these here 
 four cards is what we calls the Jacks. Well, now, 
 the idee is, if you'll take the pack and mix 'em all 
 up together, I '11 take off a passel from top, and the 
 bottom one of them I take off will be one of the 
 Jacks." 
 
 " Me to mix 'em fust .'* " said old Jed'diah. 
 
 "Yes." 
 
50 ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN LIFE. 
 
 ** And you not to see but the back of the top one, 
 when you go to * cut,' as you call it ? " 
 
 "Jist so, daddy." 
 
 ** And the backs all jist as like as kin be?" said 
 the senior Suggs, examining the cards. 
 
 " More alike nor cow-peas," said Simon. 
 
 " It can't be done, Simon," observed the old man, 
 with great solemnity. 
 
 " Bob Smith kin do it, and so kin I." 
 
 " It 's agin nater, Simon ; thar ain't a man in Au- 
 gusty, nor on top of the yeath, that kin do it ! " 
 
 ** Daddy," said our hero, " ef you '11 bet me " — 
 
 " What ! " thundered old Mr. Suggs. *' Bet, did 
 you say } " and he came down with a scorer across 
 Simon's shoulders. '* Me, Jed'diah Suggs, that 's 
 been in the Lord's sarvice these twenty years, — 
 me bet, you nasty, sassy, triflin', ugly" — 
 
 " I did n't go to say that, daddy ; that warn't what 
 I meant adzactly. I went to say that ef you 'd let 
 me off from this here maulin' you owe me, and give 
 me ' Bunch,' ef I cut Jack, I 'd give yon all this here 
 silver, ef I did n't, — that 's all. To be sure, I allers 
 knowed you would n't bet!' 
 
 Old Mr. Suggs ascertained the exact amount of 
 the silver which his son handed him, in an old 
 leathern pouch, for inspection. He also, mentally, 
 compared that sum with an imaginary one, the 
 supposed value of a certain Indian pony, called 
 "Bunch," which he had bought for his "old wom- 
 an's " Sunday riding, and which had sent the old 
 lady into a fence corner the first and only time she 
 ever mounted him. As he weighed the pouch of 
 silver in his hand, Mr. Suggs also endeavored to 
 analyze the character of the transaction proposed by 
 
SIMON SUGGS. 5 1 
 
 Simon. "It sartinly cant be nothin' but givm\ no 
 way it kin be twisted," he murmured to himself. " I 
 htow he can't do it, so there 's no resk. What makes 
 bettin' } The resk. -It 's a one-sided business, and 
 I'll jist let him give me all his money, and that'll 
 put all his wild sportin' notions out of his head." 
 
 ** Will you stand it, daddy } " asked Simon, by 
 way of waking the old man up. "You mought as 
 well, for the whippin' won't do you no good ; and as 
 for Bunch, nobody about the plantation won't ride 
 him but me." 
 
 " Simon," replied the old man, " I agree to it. 
 Your old daddy is in a close place about payin' for 
 his land ; and this here money — it 's jist eleven dol- 
 lars, lacking of twenty-five cents — will help out 
 mightily. But mind, Simon, ef anything 's said about 
 this herearter, remember, you give me the money.'' 
 
 "Very well, daddy ; and ef the thing works up 
 instid o' down, I s'pose we '11 say you give me Bunch, 
 eh > " 
 
 " You won't never be troubled to tell how you 
 come by Bunch; the thing's agin nater, and can't 
 be done. What old Jed'diah Suggs knows, he knows 
 as good as anybody. Give me them fixments, Si- 
 
 mon." 
 
 Our hero handed the cards to his father, who, 
 dropping the plow-line with which he had intended 
 to tie Simon's hands, turned his back to that indi- 
 vidual, in order to prevent his witnessing the opera- 
 tion of mixing. He then sat down, and very leisurely 
 commenced shuffling the cards, making, however, 
 an exceedingly awkward job of it. Restive kings 
 and queens jumped from his hands, or obstinately 
 refused to slide into the company of the rest of the 
 
52 ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN LIFE. 
 
 pack. Occasionally a sprightly knave would insist 
 on facing his neighbor ; or, pressing his edge against 
 another's, half double himself up, and then skip away. 
 But Elder Jed'diah perseveringly continued his at- 
 tempts to subdue the refractory, while heav) drops 
 burst from his forehead, and ran down his cheeks. 
 All of a sudden an idea, quick and penetrating as a 
 rifle-ball, seemed to have entered the cranium of the 
 old man. He chuckled audibly. The devil had sug- 
 gested to Mr. Suggs an impromptic "stock," which 
 would place the chances of Simon, already suffi- 
 ciently slim in the old man's opinion, without the 
 range of possibility. Mr. Suggs forthwith proceeded 
 to cull out all the pictcr ones, so as to be certain to 
 include the yacks, and place them at the bottom, 
 with the evident intention of keeping Simon's fingers 
 above these when he should cut. Our hero, v/ho 
 was quietly looking over his father's shoulders all 
 the time, did not seem alarmed by this disposition 
 of the cards ; on the contrary, he smiled, as if he 
 felt perfectly confident of success, in spite of it. 
 
 **Now, daddy," said Simon, when his father had 
 announced himself ready, " narry one of us ain't got 
 to look at the cards, while I 'm a cuttin' ; if we do, 
 it'll spile the conjuration." 
 
 ''Very well." 
 
 "And another thing: you've got to look me 
 right dead in the eye, daddy ; will you } " 
 
 " To be sure, — to be sure," said Mr. Suggs ; " fire 
 away." 
 
 Simon walked up close to his father, and placed 
 his hand on the pack. Old Mr. Suggs looked in Si- 
 mon's eye, and Simon returned the look for about 
 three seconds, during which a close observer might 
 
SIMON SUGGS. 53 
 
 have detected a suspicious working of the wrist of 
 the hand on the cards, but the elder Suggs did not 
 remark it. 
 
 *' Wake snakes ! day 's a-breakin ' ! Rise Jack ! '* 
 said Simon, cutting half a dozen cards from the top 
 of the pack, and presenting the face of the bottom 
 one for the inspection of his father. 
 
 It was the Jack of hearts ! 
 
 Old Mr. Suggs staggered back several steps, with 
 uplifted eyes and hands ! 
 
 ** Marciful master ! " he exclaimed, ** ef the boy 
 
 hain't ! Well, how in the round creation of the ! 
 
 Ben, did you ever t To be sure and sartin, Satan has 
 power on this yeath ! " and Mr. Suggs groaned in 
 very bitterness. 
 
 " You never seed nothin' like that in Augnsty, did 
 ye, daddy } " asked Simon, with a malicious wink at 
 Ben. 
 
 " Simon, how did you do it ? " queried the old man, 
 without noticing his son's question. 
 
 " Do it, daddy .? Do it .? 'T ain't nothin'. I done 
 it jist as easy as — shootin'." 
 
 Whether this explanation was entirely, or in any 
 degree, satisfactory to the perplexed mind of Elder 
 Jed'diah Suggs cannot, after the lapse of time which 
 has intervened, be sufficiently ascertained. It is 
 certain, however, that he pressed the investigation 
 no farther, but merely requested his son Benjamin 
 to witness the fact that, in consideration of his love 
 and affection for his son Simon, and in order to fur- 
 nish the donee v/ith the means of leaving that por- 
 tion of the State of Georgia, he bestowed upon him 
 the impracticable, pony. Bunch. 
 
 ** Jist so, daddy ; jist so ; I '11 witness that. But 
 
54 ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN LIFE. 
 
 it 'minds me mightily of the way mammy give old 
 Trailler the side of bacon, last week. She a-sweep- 
 in' up the hath ; the meat on the table ; old Trailler 
 jumps up, gethers the bacon, and darts ! Mammy 
 arter him with the broom-stick as fur as the door, 
 but seein' the dog has got the start, she shakes the 
 stick at him, and hollers, * You sassy, aig-sukkin', 
 roguish, gnatty, flop-eared varmint! take it along! 
 take it along ! I only wish 't was full of a'snic, and 
 ox-vomit, and blue vitrul, so as 't would cut your in- 
 terls into chitlins ! ' That 's about the way you give 
 Bunch to Simon." 
 
 ** Oh, shuh, Ben," remarked Simon, " I would n't 
 run on that way. Daddy couldn't help it ; it was/r^- 
 destiiiated : 'Whom he hath, he will,' you know," 
 and the rascal pulled down the under lid of his left 
 eye at his brother. Then addressing his father, he 
 asked, " Warn't it, daddy t " 
 
 " To be sure — to be sure — all fixed aforehand," 
 was old Mr. Suggs' reply. 
 
 " Did n't I tell you so, Ben.?" said Simon. ''/ 
 knowed it was all fixed aforehand," and he laughed 
 until he was purple in the face. 
 
 ** What 's in ye .? What are ye laughin' about 1 " 
 asked the old man wrothily. 
 
 " Oh, it 's so funny that it could all 'a' h^oxi fixed 
 aforehand r' said Simon, and laughed louder than 
 before. The obtusity of the Reverend Mr. Suggs, 
 however, prevented his making any discoveries. He 
 fell into a brown study, and no further allusion was 
 made to the matter. 
 
 It was evident to our hero that his father intended 
 he should remain but one more night beneath the 
 paternal roof. What mattered it to Simon } 
 
SIMON SUGGS. 55 
 
 He went home at night ; curried and fed Bunch ; 
 whispered confidentially in his ear that he was the 
 " fastest: piece of hossflesh, accordin' to size, that 
 ever shaded the yeath ; " and then busied himself in 
 preparing for an early start on the morrow. 
 
 Old Mrs. Suggs' big red rooster had hardly ceased 
 crowing in announcement of the coming dawn, when 
 Simon mounted the intractable Bunch. Both were 
 in high spirits : our hero at the idea of unrestrained 
 license in future ; and Bunch from a mesmerical 
 transmission to himself of a portion of his master's 
 deviltry. Simon raised himself in the stirrups, yelled 
 a tolerably fair imitation of the Creek war-whoop, 
 and shouted, — 
 
 " I 'm off, old stud ! Remember the Jack-a-hearts ! " 
 
 Bunch shook his little head, tucked down his tail, 
 ran sideways, as if going to fall, and then suddenly 
 reared, squealed, and struck off at a brisk gallop. 
 
 II. 
 
 THE CAPTAIN ATTENDS A CAMP-MEETING. 
 
 Captain Suggs found himself as poor at the con* 
 elusion of the Creek war as he had been at its com- 
 mencement. Although no ** arbitrary," " despotic," 
 " corrupt," and " unprincipled " judge had fined him 
 a thousand dollars for his proclamation of martial law 
 at Fort Suggs, or the enforcement of its rules in the 
 case of Mrs. Haycock, yet somehow — the thing is 
 alike inexplicable to him and to us — the money 
 which he had contrived, by various shifts, to obtain 
 melted away, and was gone forever. To a man like 
 the Captain, of intense domestic affections, this state 
 
56 ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN LIFE. 
 
 of destitution was most distressing. " He could 
 stand it himself, — did n't care a d — n for it, no 
 way," he observed ; '* but the old woman and the 
 children, — that bothered him ! " 
 
 As he sat, one day, ruminating upon the unpleas^ 
 ant condition of his ** financial concerns," Mrs. Suggs 
 informed him that " the sugar and coffee was nigh 
 about out," and that there were not *'a dozen j'ints 
 and middlins, all put together, in the smoke-house.'* 
 Suggs bounced up on the instant, exclaiming, 
 " D — n it ! somebody must suffer ! " But whether 
 this remark was intended to convey the idea that he 
 and his family were about to experience the want of 
 the necessaries of life, or that some other and as 
 yet unknown individual should " suffer " to prevent 
 that prospective exigency, must be left to the com- 
 mentators, if perchance any of that ingenious class 
 of persons should hereafter see proper to write notes 
 for this history. It is enough for us that we give all 
 the facts in this connection, so that ignorance of the 
 subsequent conduct of Captain Suggs may not lead 
 to an erroneous judgment in respect to his words. 
 
 Having uttered the exclamation we have repeated, 
 and perhaps hurriedly walked once or twice across 
 the room, Captain Suggs drew on his famous old 
 green-blanket overcoat, and ordered his horse, and 
 within five minutes was on his way to a camp-meet- 
 ing, then in full blast on Sandy Creek, twenty miles 
 distant, where he hoped to find amusement, at least. 
 When he arrived there, he found the hollow square 
 of the encampment filled with people, listening to 
 the mid-day sermon and its dozen accompanying 
 " exhortations." A half dozen preachers were dis- 
 pensing the word ; the one in the pulpit a meek 
 
SIMON SUGGS. 57 
 
 faced old man, of great simplicity and benevolence. 
 His voice was weak and cracked, notwithstanding 
 which, however, he contrived to make himself heard 
 occasionally, above the din of the exhorting, the 
 singing, and the shouting which were going on 
 around him. The rest were walking to and fro 
 (engaged in the other exercises we have indicated) 
 among the ''mourners," — a host of whom occupied 
 the seat set apart for their especial use, — or made 
 personal appeals to the mere spectators. The ex- 
 citement was intense. Men and women rolled about 
 on the ground, or lay sobbing or shouting in promis- 
 cuous heaps. More than all, the negroes sang and 
 screamed and prayed. Several, under the influence 
 of what is technically called *'the jerks," were plung- 
 ing and pitching about with convulsive energy. The 
 great object of all seemed to be to see who could 
 make the greatest noise : 
 
 '• And each, for madness ruled the hour, 
 Would try his own expressive power." 
 
 '' Bless my poor old soul ! " screamed the preacher 
 in the pulpit ; " ef yonder ain't a squad in that cor- 
 ner that we ain't got one outen yet ! It '11 never 
 do," — raising his voice, — *'you must come outen 
 that ! Brother Fant, fetch up that youngster in the 
 blue coat ! I see the Lord 's a-workin' upon him ! 
 Fetch him along — glory — yes ! — hold to him ! " 
 
 ''Keep the thing warm!" roared a sensual-seem- 
 ing man, of stout mould and florid countenance, who 
 was exhorting among a bevy of young women, upon 
 whom he was lavishing caresses. " Keep the thing 
 warm, breethring ! Come to the Lord, honey ! " he 
 added, as he vigorously hugged one of the damsels 
 he sought to save. 
 
58 ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN LIFE. 
 
 ** Oh, I 've got him ! " said another in exulting 
 tones, as he led up a gawky youth among the mourn- 
 ers, — ** I 've got him — he tried to git off, but — ha ! 
 Lord!" — shaking his head, as much as to say, it 
 took a smart fellow to escape him — *' ha ! Lord ! " — 
 and he wiped the perspiration from his face with one 
 hand, and with the other patted his neophyte on the 
 shoulder — '' he could n't do it ! No ! Then he tried 
 to argy wi' me — but bless the Lord! he could n'c 
 do that nother ! Ha ! Lord ! I tuk him, fust in the 
 Old Testament — bless the Lord ! — and I argyed 
 him all thro' Kings — then I throwed him into Prov- 
 erbs, — and from that, here we had it up and down, 
 kleer down to the New Testament ; and then I begun 
 to see it work him ! — then we got into Matthy, and 
 from Matthy right straight along to Acts ; and thar 
 I throwed him ! Y-e-s L-o-r-d ! " assuming the nasal 
 twang and high pitch which are, in some parts, 
 considered the perfection of rhetorical art, " Y-e-s 
 L-o-r-d ! and h-e-r-e he is ! Now g-i-t down thar," 
 addressing the subject, ** and s-e-e ef the L-o-r-d 
 ViTon't do somethin' f-o-r you ! " Having thus de- 
 posited his charge among the mourners, he started 
 out summarily to convert another soul ! 
 
 " Gl-o-r^^ / " yelled a huge, greasy negro woman, 
 as in a fit of the jerks she threw herself convulsively 
 from her feet, and fell, *' like a thousand of brick," 
 across a diminutive old man in a little round hat, 
 w^ho was squeaking consolation to one of the mourn- 
 ers. 
 
 " Good Lord, have mercy ! " ejaculated the little 
 man earnestly and unaffectedly, as he strove to crawl 
 from under the sable mass which was crushing him. 
 
 In another part of the square a dozen old women 
 
SIMON SUGGS. 59 
 
 were singing. They were in a state of absolute ec- 
 stasy, as their shrill pipes gave forth, — 
 
 " I rode on the sky, 
 Quite ondestified I, 
 And the moon it was under my feet ! " 
 
 Near these last stood a delicate woman, in that 
 hysterical condition in which the nerves are uncon- 
 trollable, and which is vulgarly — and almost blas- 
 phemously — termed the *' holy laugh." A hide- 
 ous grin distorted her mouth, and was accompanied 
 with a maniac's chuckle ; while every muscle and 
 nerve of her face twitched and jerked in horrible 
 spasms.^ 
 
 Amid all this confusion and excitement Suggs 
 stood unmoved. He viewed the whole affair as a 
 grand deception, a sort of "opposition line" run- 
 ning against his own, and looked on with a sort of 
 professional jealousy. Sometimes he would mutter 
 running comments upon what passed before him. 
 
 " Well, now," said he, as he observed the full-faced 
 brother who was "officiating" among the women, 
 " that ere feller takes my eye ! Thar he 's been 
 this half hour, a-figurin' amongst them galls, and 's 
 never said the fust word to nobody else. Wonder 
 
 1 Mr. Hooper adds the following note in this place : — 
 "The reader is requested to bear in mind that the scenes de- 
 scribed in this chapter are not now to be witnessed. Eight or ten 
 years ago, all classes of population of the Creek country were very 
 different from what they now are. Of course, no disrespect is in- 
 tended to any denomination of Christians. We believe that camp- 
 meetings are not peculiar to any church, though most usual in the 
 Methodist, — a denomination whose respectability in Alabama is at- 
 tested by the fact that vei-y many of its worthy clergymen and lay 
 members hold honorable and profitable offices in the gift of the state 
 legislature ; of which, indeed, almost a controlling portion are them- 
 selves Methodists." 
 
6o ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN LIFE. 
 
 what 's the reason these here preachers never hugs 
 up the old, ugly women ! Never seed one do it in 
 my life, — the sperrit never moves 'em that way ! It 's 
 nater tho' ; and the women, tJiey never flocks round 
 one o' the old dried-up breethring. Bet two to one, 
 old splinter-legs thar " — nodding at one of the minis- 
 ters — " won't git a chance to say turkey to a good- 
 lookin' gall to-day ! Well ! who blames 'em ? Nater 
 will be nater, all the world over ; and I judge ef I 
 was a preacher, I should save the purtiest souls fust, 
 myself ! " 
 
 While the Captain was in the middle of this con- 
 versation with himself, he caught the attention of 
 the preacher in the pulpit, who, inferring from an 
 indescribable something about his appearance that 
 he was a person of some consequence, immediately 
 determined to add him at once to the church, if it 
 could be done ; and to that end began a vigorous, 
 direct personal attack. 
 
 "■ Breethring," he exclaimed, " I see yonder a man 
 that 's a sinner ! I hiozv he 's a sinner ! Thar he 
 stands," pointing at Simon, " a missuble old crittur, 
 with his head a-blossomin' for the grave ! A few 
 more short years, and d-o-w-n he '11 go to perdition, 
 lessen the Lord have mer-cy on him ! Come up 
 here, you old hoary-headed sinner, a-n-d git down 
 upon your knees, a-n-d put up your cry for the Lord 
 to snatch you from the bottomless pit ! You 're ripe 
 for the devil ; you 're b-o-u-n-d for hell, and the Lord 
 only knows what '11 become on you ! " 
 
 "D — n it," thought Suggs, '' ef \ only had you 
 down in the krick swamp for a minit or so, Fd show 
 you who 's old ! F d alter your tune mighty sudden, 
 you sassy, 'saitful old rascal ! " But he judiciously 
 
SIMON SUGGS. • 6 1 
 
 held his tongue, and gave no utterance to the 
 thought. 
 
 The attention of many having been directed to 
 the Captain by the preacher's remarks, he was soon 
 surrounded by numerous well-meaning and doubt« 
 less very pious persons, each one of whom seemed 
 bent on the application of his own particular recipe 
 for the salvation of souls. For a long time the Cap- 
 tain stood silent, or answered the incessant stream 
 of exhortation only with a sneer ; but at length his 
 countenance began to give token of inward emotion. 
 First his eyelids twitched ; then his upper lip quiv- 
 ered ; next a transparent drop formed on one of his 
 eyelashes, and a similar one on the tip of his nose ; 
 and at last a sudden bursting of air from nose and 
 mouth told that Captain Suggs was overpowered by 
 his emotions. At the moment of the explosion, h^ 
 made a feint as if to rush from the crowd, but he 
 was in experienced hands, who well knew that the 
 battle was more than half won. 
 
 ** Hold to him ! " said one. " It 's a-workin' in him 
 as strong as a Dick horse ! " 
 
 "Pour it into him," said another; ''it'll all come 
 right directly." 
 
 "That 's the way I love to see 'em do," observed 
 a third ; " when you begin to draw the water from 
 their eyes, 't ain't gwine to be long afore you '11 have 
 em on their knees ! " 
 
 And so they clung to the Captain manfully, and 
 half dragged, half led him to the mourner's bench ; 
 by which he threw himself down, altogether un- 
 manned, and bathed in tears. Great was the re- 
 joicing of the brethren, as they sang, shouted, and 
 prayed around him ; for by this time it had come to 
 
62 ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN II FE. 
 
 be generally known that the ''convicted" old man 
 was Captain Simon Suggs, the very " chief of sin- 
 ners " in all that region. 
 
 The Captain remained groveling in the dust dur- 
 ing the usual time, and gave vent to even more than 
 the requisite number of sobs and groans and heart- 
 piercing cries. At length, when the proper time 
 had arrived, he bounced up, and with a face radiant 
 with joy commenced a series of vaultings and tum- 
 blings, which "laid in the shade" all previous per- 
 formances of the sort at mat camp-meeting. The 
 brethren were in ecstasies at this demonstrative evi- 
 dence of completion of the work ; and whenever 
 Suggs shouted " Gloree ! " at the top of his lungs, 
 every one of them shouted it back, until the woods 
 rang with echoes. 
 
 The effervescence having partially subsided, Suggs 
 was put upon his pins to relate his experience, which 
 he did somewhat in this style, first brushing the 
 tear-drops from his eyes, and giving the end of his 
 nose a preparatory wring with his fingers, to free it 
 of the superabundant moisture. 
 
 ** Friends," he said, " it don't take long to curry 
 a short horse, accordin' to the old sayin', and I '11 
 give you the perticklers of the way I was * brought 
 to a knowledge'" — here the Captain wiped his 
 eyes, brushed the tip of his nose, and snuffled a lit- 
 tle — " in less "n no time." 
 
 " Praise the Lord ! " ejaculated a by-stander. 
 
 " You see I come here full o' romancin' and devil- 
 ment, and jist to make game of all the purceedins. 
 Well, sure enough, I done so for some time, and 
 was a-thinkin' how I should play some trick " — 
 
 " Dear soul alive ! dont he talk sweet .-* " cried 
 
SIMON SUGGS. ^i 
 
 an old lady in black silk. "Whar's John Dobbs ? 
 You Sukey ! " screaming at a negro woman on the 
 other side of the square, " ef you don't hunt up 
 your mass John in a minute, and have him here to 
 listen to his 'sperience, I '11 tuck you up when I git 
 home and give you a hundred and fifty lashes, madam! 
 see ef I don't ! Blessed Lord ! " referrino: aerain to 
 the Captain's relation, "ain't it 2. precious 'scourse ? " 
 
 " I was jist a-thinkin' how I should play some 
 trick to turn it all into redecule, when they began to 
 come round me and talk. Long at fust I did n't 
 mind it, but arter a little that brother," pointing to 
 the reverend gentleman who had so successfully 
 carried the unbeliever through the Old and New 
 Testaments, and who, Simon was convinced, was the 
 "big dog of the tan-yard," — *' that brother spoke a 
 word that struck me kleen to the heart, and run all 
 over me, like fire in dry grass" — 
 
 "/-/-/ can bring 'em ! " cried the preacher alluded 
 to, in a tone of exultation. " Lord, thou knows ef 
 thy servant can't stir 'em up, nobody else need n't 
 try ; but the glory ain't mine. I 'm a poor worrum 
 of the dust," he added, with ill-managed affectation. 
 
 "And so from that I felt somethin' a-pullin' me 
 inside " — 
 
 " Grace ! grace ! nothin' but grace ! " exclaimed 
 one; meaning that "grace" had been operating in 
 the Captain's gastric region. 
 
 "And then," continued Suggs, "I wanted to git 
 off, but they hilt me, and bimeby I felt so missuble 
 I had to go yonder," pointing to the mourners' seat ; 
 ^ and when I lay down thar it got wuss and wuss, 
 and 'peared like somethin' was a-mashin' down on 
 my back" — 
 
64 ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN LIFE. 
 
 "That was his load o' sin," said one of the breth- 
 ren. " Never mind ; it '11 tumble off presently, see ef 
 it don't," and he shook his head professionally and 
 knowingly. 
 
 " And it kept a-gittin heavier and heavier, ontwell 
 it looked like it might be a four-year-old steer, or a 
 big pine log, or somethin' of that sort " — 
 
 " Glory to my soul," shouted Mrs. Dobbs, "it's 
 the sweetest talk I ever hearn ! You Sukey ! ain't 
 you got John yit .'* Never mind, my lady, /'ll settle 
 wi' you ! " Sukey quailed before the finger which 
 her mistress shook at her. 
 
 " And arter a while," Suggs went on, " 'peared like 
 I fell into a trance, like, and I seed " — 
 
 " Now we '11 git the good on it ! " cried one of the 
 sanctified. 
 
 " And I seed the biggest, longest, rip-roarenest, 
 blackest, scaliest" — Captain Suggs paused, wiped 
 his brow, and ejaculated, ''Ah, L-o-r-d ! " so as to 
 give full time for curiosity to become impatience to 
 know what he saw. 
 
 '' Sarpeiit, warn't it .^ " asked one of the preachers. 
 
 "■ No, not a sarpent," replied Suggs, blowing his 
 nose. 
 
 " Do tell us wJiat it war ! Soul alive ! Whar is 
 John .-* " said Mrs. Dobbs. 
 
 ''Alligator! " said the Captain. 
 
 " Alligator ! " repeated every woman present, and 
 screamed for very life. 
 
 Mrs. Dobbs's nerves were so shaken by the an- 
 nouncement that, after repeating the horrible word, 
 she screamed to Sukey, " You Sukey, I say, you Su- 
 u-ke-e-y ! ef you let John come a-nigh this way, whar 
 the dreadful alliga — Shaw ! what am I thinkih 
 'bout .? 'T warn't nothin' but a vishin ! " 
 
SIMON SUGGS. 65 
 
 "Well," said the Captain in continuation, ** the 
 alligator kept a-comin' and a-comin' to'ards me, with 
 his great long jaws a-gapin' open like a ten-foot 
 pair o' tailors' shears " — 
 
 " Oh ! oh ! oh ! Lord ! gracious above ! " cried the 
 women. 
 
 ** Satan ! " was the laconic ejaculation of the old- 
 est preacher present, who thus informed the con- 
 gregation that it was the devil which had attacked 
 Suggs in the shape of an alligator. 
 
 " And then I concluded the jig was up, 'thout I 
 could block his game some way ; for I seed his idee 
 was to snap off my head " — 
 
 The women screamed again. 
 
 " So I fixed myself jist like I was purfectly willin' 
 for him to take my head, and rather he 'd do it as 
 not," — here the women shuddered perceptibly, — 
 " and so I hilt my head straight out," — the Captain 
 illustrated by elongating his neck ; " and when he 
 come up, and was a-gwine to sJiet down on it, I jist 
 pitched in a big rock, which choked him to death ; 
 and that minit I felt the weight slide off, and I had 
 the best feelins — sorter like you '11 have from good 
 sperrits — anybody ever had ! " 
 
 " Did n't I tell you so } Did n't I tell you so ? " 
 asked the brother who had predicted the off-tumbling 
 of the load of sin. " Ha, Lord ! fool who ! I 've been 
 all along thar ! yes, all along thar ! and I know every 
 mch of the way jist as good as I do the road home ! " 
 and then he turned round and round, and looked at 
 all, to receive a silent tribute to his superior pene- 
 tration. 
 
 Captain Suggs was now the "lion of the day." 
 Nobody could pray so well, or exhort so movingly, 
 
 5 
 
66 ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN LIFE. 
 
 as "brother Suggs." Nor did his natural modesty 
 prevent the proper performance of appropriate exer- 
 cises. With the Reverend Bela Bugg (him to whom, 
 under providence, he ascribed his conversion) he 
 was a most especial favorite. They walked, sang, 
 and prayed together for hours. 
 
 ** Come, come up ; thar 's room for all ! " cried 
 brother Bugg, in his evening exhortation. " Come 
 to the * seat,' and ef you won't pray yourselves let 
 me pray for you ! " 
 
 " Yes ! " said Simon, byway of assisting his friend ; 
 **it's a game that all can win at! Ante up ! ante 
 up, boys — friends, I mean ! Don't back out ! " 
 
 "Thar ain't a sinner here," said Bugg, "no matter 
 ef his soul 's black as a nigger, but what thar's room 
 for him ! " 
 
 " No matter what sort of a hand you 've got," 
 added Simon, in the fullness of his benevolence ; 
 " take stock ! Here am /, the wickedest and blindest 
 of sinners ; has spent my whole life in the sarvice 
 of the devil ; has now come in on nary pair and won 
 3. pile!'' and the Captain's face beamed with holy 
 pleasure. 
 
 " D-o-n-'t be afeard ! " cried the preacher ; " come 
 along ! the meanest won't be turned away ! humble 
 yourselves, and come ! " 
 
 "No ! " said Simon, still indulging in his favorite 
 style of metaphor ; " the bluff game ain't played here ! 
 No runnin' of a body off ! Everybody holds four 
 aces, and when you bet you win ! " 
 
 And thus the Captain continued, until the services 
 were concluded, to assist in adding to the number 
 at the mourners' seat ; and up to the hour of retir- 
 ing, he exhibited such enthusiasm in the cause that 
 
SIMON SUGGS. 67 
 
 he was unanimously voted to be the most efficient 
 addition the church had made during that meeting. 
 
 The next morning, when the preacher of the day 
 first entered the pulpit, he announced that " brother 
 Simon Suggs," mourning over his past iniquities, 
 and desirous of going to work in the cause as 
 speedily as possible, would take up a collection to 
 found a church in his own neighborhood, at w^hich 
 he hoped to make himself useful as soon as he could 
 prepare himself for the ministry, which, the preacher 
 did n't doubt, would be in a very few weeks, as 
 brother Suggs was "a man of mighty good judg- 
 me?tt, and of a great discorse^ The funds were to 
 be collected by '* brother Suggs," and held in trust 
 by brother Bela Bugg, who was the financial officer 
 of the circuit, until some arrangement could be made 
 to build a suitable house. 
 
 " Yes, breethring," said the Captain, rising to his 
 feet ; " I want to start a little 'sociation close to me, 
 and I want you all to help. I 'm mighty poor my- 
 self, as poor as any of you. Don't leave, breethring," 
 observing that several of the well-to-do were about 
 to go off, — ** don't leave ; ef you ain't able to afford 
 anything, jist give us your blessin', and it'll be all 
 the same ! " 
 
 This insinuation did the business, and the sensi- 
 tive individuals reseated themselves. 
 
 " It 's mighty little of this world's goods I 've got," 
 resumed Suggs, pulling off his hat, and holding it 
 before him ; " but I '11 bury that in the cause, any- 
 how," and he deposited his last five-dollar bill in the 
 nat. There was a murmur of approbation at the 
 Captain's liberality throughout the assembly. 
 
 Suggs now commenced collecting, and very pru- 
 
68 ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN LIFE. 
 
 dently attacked first the gentlemen who had shown 
 a disposition to escape. These, to exculpate them- 
 selves from anything like poverty, contributed hand- 
 somely. 
 
 " Look here, breethring," said the Captain, dis- 
 playing the bank-notes thus received, " brother 
 Snooks has drapt a fiv^e wi' me, and brother Snod- 
 grass a ten ! In course 't ain't expected that you tJiat 
 aiiit as well ojf as tJieni will give as miLcJi ; let every 
 one give accordiii to ther means." 
 
 This was another chain-shot that raked as it went ! 
 ** Who so low" as not to*be able to contribute as 
 much as Snooks and Snodgrass t 
 
 " Here 's all the small money I 've got about me," 
 said a burly old fellow, ostentatiously handing to 
 Suggs, over the heads of a half dozen, a ten-dollar 
 bill. 
 
 " That 's what I call maganimus ! " exclaimed the 
 Captain ; " that 's the way every rich man ought to 
 do!" 
 
 These examples were followed more or less closely 
 by almost all present, for Simon had excited the 
 pride of purse of the congregation, and a very hand- 
 some sum was collected in a very short time. 
 
 The Reverend Mr. Bugg, as soon as he observed 
 that our hero had obtained all that was to be had at 
 that time, went to him, and inquired what amount 
 had been collected. The Captain replied that it was 
 still uncounted, but that it could n't be much under 
 a hundred. 
 
 *' Well, brother Suggs, you 'd better count it, and 
 turn it over to me now. I 'm goin' to leave pres- 
 ently." 
 
 " No ! " said Suggs ; *' can't do it ! " 
 
SIMON SUGGS. 69 
 
 " Why ? what 's the matter ? " inquired Bugg. 
 
 *' It 's got to be prayed over, fust ! " said Simon, a 
 heavenly smile illuminating his whole face. 
 
 " Well," replied Bugg, " less go one side and do 
 it!" 
 
 " No ! " said Simon, solemnly. 
 
 Mr. Bugg gave a look of inquiry. 
 
 "■ You see that krick swamp .?" asked Suggs. " I 'm 
 gwine down in tliar, and I 'm gwdne to lay this money 
 down so,'' — showing how he would place it on the 
 ground, — "and I'm gwine to git on these here 
 knees," slapping the right one, '' and I 'm n-e-v-e-r 
 gwine to quit the grit ontwell I feel it 's got the 
 blessin' ! And nobody ain't got to be thar but me ! " 
 
 Mr. Bugg greatly admired the Captain's fervent 
 piety, and, bidding him godspeed, turned off. 
 
 Captain Suggs " struck for " the swamp sure 
 enough, where his horse was already hitched. ** Ef 
 them fellers ain't done to a cracklin'," he muttered 
 to himself as he mounted, "/'ll never bet on two 
 pair agin ! They 're peart at the snap game, they- 
 selves ; but they 're badly lewed this hitch ! Well ! 
 Live and let live is a good old motter, and it 's my 
 sentiments adzactly ! " And giving the spur to his 
 horse, off he cantered. 
 
 III. 
 
 SIMON IS ARRAIGNED BEFORE "a JURY OF HIS COUNTRY." 
 
 For a year or two after the Captain's conversion 
 at the camp-meeting, the memoranda at our com- 
 mand furnish no information concerning him. We 
 next find him, at the spring term, 1838, arraigned 
 
70 ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN LIFE. 
 
 in the circuit court for the county of Tallapoosa^ 
 charged in a bill of indictment with gambling, " play- 
 ing at a certain game of cards, commonly called 
 poker, for money, contrary to the form of the statute, 
 and against the peace and dignity of the State of 
 Alabama." 
 
 ** Humph ! " said the Captain to himself, as Mr. 
 Solicitor Belcher read the bill ; " that's as derned a 
 lie as ever Jim Belcher writ ! Thar never were a 
 feaceabler or x^otq gentlemanlier game o' short cards 
 played in Datesville, — which thar's a dozen men 
 here is knowin' to it ! " 
 
 Captain Suggs had no particular defense with 
 vv^hich to meet the prosecution. It was pretty gen- 
 erally understood that the State would make out a 
 clear case against him ; and a considerable fine, or 
 imprisonment in default of its payment, was the cer- 
 tainly expected result. Yet Simon had employed — 
 though he had not actually feed — counsel, and had 
 some slight hope that Luck, the goddess of his es- 
 pecial adoration, would not desert him at the pinch. 
 He instructed his lawyer, therefore, to stave off the 
 case, if possible ; or, at any rate, to protract it. 
 
 "The State against Simon Suggs and Andrew, 
 alias Andy, Owens. Card-playing. Hadenskeldt for 
 the defense. Are the defendants in court t " said 
 the judge. 
 
 Simon's counsel intimated that he was. 
 
 ''Take an alias writ as to Owens; ready for 
 trial as to Suggs," said the solicitor. 
 
 The Captain whispered to his lawyer, and urged 
 him to put him on the stand, and make a showing 
 for a continuance ; but being advised by that gen- 
 tleman that it would be useless, got him to obtain 
 
SIMON SUGGS. yi 
 
 /eave for him to go out of court for five minutes. 
 Permission obtained, he went out, and soon after 
 returned. 
 
 " Is Wat Craddock in court .^ " asked the solicitor. 
 
 " Here ! " said Wat. 
 
 "Take the stand, Mr. Craddock!" And Wat 
 obeyed, and was sworn. 
 
 " Proceed, Mr. Craddock, and tell the court and 
 jury all you know about Captain Suggs playing 
 cards," said Mr. Belcher. 
 
 " Stop ! " interposed Simon's counsel. " Do you 
 believe in the revelations of Scripture, Mr. Crad- 
 dock } " 
 
 " No ! " said the witness. 
 
 " I object, then, to his testifying," said Mr. Had- 
 enskeldt. 
 
 " He does n't understand the questio7tl'' said the 
 solicitor. ** You believe the Bible to be true, don't 
 you } " addressing the witness. 
 
 " If the court please — stop ! stop ! Mr. Crad- 
 dock — I '11 ask him another question before he an- 
 swers that," said Mr. Hadenskeldt, hastily. ** Did 
 you ever read the Bible, Mr. Craddock } " 
 
 "No," said Craddock ; " not 's I know on." 
 
 " Then I object to his testifying, of course. He 
 can't believe what he knows nothing about." 
 
 " He has heard it read, I presume," said Mr. Bel- 
 cher ; " have you not, Mr. Craddock .? " 
 
 " I mought," said Wat, " but I don't know." 
 
 '' Dont kjtow ! Why, don't you hear it ever) 
 Sunday at church } " 
 
 "Ah, but you see," replied Mr. Craddock, with 
 the air of a man about to solve a difficulty to every- 
 body's satisfaction — " you see, I don't never go to 
 meetin' ! " 
 
72 ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN LIFE. 
 
 " Your honor will perceive " — began Mr. Haden 
 skeldt. 
 
 " Why — what — how do you spend your time on 
 Sunday, Mr. Craddock } " asked the solicitor. 
 
 " Sometimes I goes a-fishin' on the krick, and 
 sometimes I plays marvels," repUed Wat, gaping 
 extensively as he spoke. 
 
 *' Anything else } " 
 
 ** Sometimes I lays in the sun, back o' Andy 
 Owens's grocery." 
 
 *' Mr. Belcher," asked the court, " is this the only 
 witness for the State .'' " 
 
 " We have a half dozen more who can prove all 
 the facts." 
 
 *' Well, then, discharge this man ; he 's drunk." 
 
 Mr. Craddock was accordingly discharged, and 
 William Sentell was put upon the stand. Just as 
 he had kissed the book, a man, looking hot and 
 worried, was seen leaning over the railing which 
 shuts out the spectators from the business part of 
 the court-room, beckoning to the Captain. 
 
 Simon, having obtained leave to see this person, 
 went to him, and took a note which the other held 
 in his hand, and, after a few words of conversation, 
 turned off to read it. As he slowly deciphered the 
 words, his countenance changed, and he began to 
 weep. The solicitor, who knew a thing or two 
 about the Captain, laughed ; and so did Mr. Haden- 
 skeldt, although he tried to suppress it. 
 
 " My boys is a-dyin' ! " said Suggs ; and he threw 
 himself upon the steps leading to the judge's seat, 
 and sobbed bitterly, 
 
 " Come, come, Captain," said the solicitor ; **you 
 are a great tactician, but permit me to say that / 
 
SIMON SUGGS. 73 
 
 know you. Come, no shamming ! Let 's proceed 
 with the trial." 
 
 " It don't make no odds to me now what you 
 do about it. John and Ben will be in ther graves 
 before I git home," and the poor fellow groaned 
 heart-breakingly. 
 
 " Captain," said Mr. Hadenskeldt, vainly endeav- 
 oring to control his risibles, " let us attend to the 
 trial now. May be it is n't as bad as you suppose." 
 
 " No," said Suggs, " let 'em find me guilty. I 'm 
 a poor missuble old man ! The Lord 's a-punishin* 
 my gray hairs for my wickedness ! " 
 
 Mr. Hadenskeldt took from the Captain's hand 
 the note containing the bad tidings, and to his great 
 astonishment saw that it was from Dr. Jourdan, a 
 gentleman well known to him, and entirely above 
 any suspicion of trickery. It set forth that the 
 Captain's sons were at the point of death, — one of 
 them beyond hope ; and urged the Captain to come 
 home to his afflicted family. Knowing that Suggs 
 was really an affectionate father, he was now at no 
 loss to account for the naturalness of his grief, 
 which he had before supposed to be simulated. He 
 instantly read the note aloud, and remarked that he 
 would throw himself upon the humanity of the 
 State's counsel for a continuance. 
 
 Simon interposed. " Never mind," he sobbed, 
 *' 'Squire Hadenskeldt, never mind ; let 'em try me. 
 I '11 plead guilty. The boys will be dead afore I 
 could git home, anyhow! Let 'em send me to jail, 
 whar thar won't be anybody to laugh at my 
 mis'ry ! " 
 
 " Has this poor old man ever been indicted be- 
 fore ? " asked the judge. 
 
74 ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN LIFE. 
 
 " Never," said the solicitor, who was affected al- 
 most to tears. " He has the reputation of being 
 dissipated and tricky, but I think has never been 
 in court, at the instance of the State, before." 
 
 "Ah, well, then, Mr. Belcher," replied the judge, 
 "I would ' nol. pros' the case, if I were you, and 
 let this grief-stricken old man go home to his dying 
 children. He is indicted only for a misdemeanor, 
 and it would be absolute inhumanity to keep him 
 here ; perhaps that lenity might have a good effect, 
 too." 
 
 This was all the solicitor wished for. He was 
 already burning to strike the case off the docket, 
 and send Simon home ; for he was one of the men 
 that could never look real grief in the face without 
 a tear in his eye, albeit his manner was as rough 
 as a Russian bear's. 
 
 So the solicitor entered his nolle prosequi, and the 
 Captain was informed that he was at liberty. 
 
 " May it please your honor, judge," said he, pick- 
 ing up his hat, " and all you other kind gentlemen " 
 — his case had excited universal commiseration 
 among the lawyers — " that 's taken pity on a poor 
 broken-sperrited man — God bless you all for it — it 's 
 all I can say or do ! " He then left the court-house. 
 
 In the course of an hour or two, the solicitor had 
 occasion to go to his room for a paper or book he 
 had left there. On his way to the tavern, he ob- 
 served Captain Suggs standing in front of a " gro- 
 cery," in great glee, relating some laughable anec- 
 dote. He was astounded ! He called to him, and 
 the Captain came. 
 
 " Captain Suggs," said the solicitor, " how 's this ? 
 Why are you not on the way home ^ " And the so- 
 licitor frowned like — as only /le can frown. 
 
SIMON SUGGS. 75 
 
 "Why, bless my soul, Jim," said Suggs familiarly, 
 and with a wicked smile, '' ain't you Jiearn about it ? 
 These here boys in town " — here Simon himself 
 frowned savagely — " I '11 be d — d ef I don't knock 
 daylight outen some on 'em, a-sportin wi my feel- 
 ins, that way ' They 'd better mind ; jokin 's jokin', 
 but I 've known men most hellatiously kicked for jist 
 sich jokes ! " 
 
 " Well, well," said Mr. Belcher, who more than 
 suspected that he had been *' sold " — " how was 
 it ? " 
 
 " You see," quoth Simon, " it was this here way, 
 adzactly : that note I got in the court-house was one 
 Dr. Jourdan sent me last summer, when the boys 
 was sick, and I was on a spree over to Sockapatoy, 
 — only / did n't know 'twas the same. It must 'a 
 drapped outen my pocket here, somehow, and some 
 of these cussed town boys picked it up, tore off the 
 date at the bottom, and sent it to me up thar ; which 
 myfeelinswas never hurt as bad before, in the round 
 world. But they 'd better mind who they poke thar 
 fun at ! No-o man ain't got to sport wi' my feelins 
 that way, and let me find him out! — Won't you 
 take some sperrits, Jim } " 
 
 The solicitor turned off wrathfully, and walked 
 away. Simon watched him as he went. " Thar," 
 said he, " goes as clever a feller as ever toted a ugly 
 head! He's smart, \oo, — d — ^ smart ; but thar's 
 S077te people he can't qu-u-i-te, ad-zact-ly " — And 
 without finishing the sentence, Captain Suggs pulled 
 down the lower lid of his left eye with the fore- 
 finger of his right hand ; and having thus impliedly 
 complimented himself, he walked back to the gro* 
 eery. 
 
76 ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN LIFE. 
 
 IV. 
 
 SIMON " FIGHTS THE TIGER." 
 
 As a matter of course, the first thing that engaged 
 the attention of Captain Suggs upon his arrival in 
 Tuskaloosa was his proposed attack upon his enemy. 
 Indeed, he scarcely allowed himself time to bolt, 
 without mastication, the excellent supper served to 
 him at Duffie's, ere he outsallied to engage the ad- 
 versary. In the street, he suffered not himself to be 
 beguiled into a moment's loitering, even by the 
 strange sights which, under other circumstances, 
 would certainly have enchained his attention. The 
 windows of the great drug store cast forth their blaze 
 of varied light in vain ; the music of a fine amateur 
 band, preparing for a serenade, was no music for 
 him ; he paused not in front of the bookseller's, to 
 inspect the prints, or the huge-lettered advertising 
 cards. In short, so eager was he to give battle to 
 the " tiger " that the voice of the ring-master, as it 
 came distinctly into the street from the circus, the 
 sharp joke of the clown, and the perfectly-shadowed 
 figures of " Dandy Jack " and the other performers, 
 whisking rapidly round upon the canvas, failed to 
 shake, in the slightest degree, the resolute deter- 
 mination of the courageous and indomitable Cap- 
 tain. 
 
 As he hurried along, however, with the long stride 
 of the backwoods, hardly turning his head, and to 
 all appearance oblivious altogether of things exter- 
 nal, he held occasional '' confabs " with himself in 
 regard to the unusual objects which surrounded 
 him ; for Suggs is an observant man, and notes with 
 
SIMON SUGGS. '/y 
 
 much accuracy whatever comes before him, all the 
 while a body would suppose him to be asleep, or in a 
 " turkey dream " at least. On the present occasion 
 his communings with himself commenced o^Dposite 
 the window of the drug store : " Well, thar 's the 
 most deffrunt sperrets in tJiat grocery ever / seed ! 
 Thar 's koniac, and old peach, and rectified, and lots 
 I can't tell thar names ! That light-yaller bottle, 
 tho',in the corner thar, that's Tennesj-^?^/ I 'd know 
 that anywkar ! And that tother bottle's rot-gut, ef 
 I know myself — bit a drink, I reckon, as well 's the 
 rest ! What a power o' likker they do keep in this 
 here town ; ef I warn't goin' to run agin the bank, 
 I 'd sample some of it, too, I reether expect. But it 
 don't do for a man to sperrets much when he 's pur^ 
 suin' the beast" — 
 
 ** H — 11 and scissors ! who ever seed the like of 
 the books ! Ain't thar a pile ! Do wonder what 
 sort of a office them fellers in thar keeps, makes 
 'em want so many ! They don't read 'em all^ I 
 judge ! Well, mother-wit kin beat book-larnin' at 
 any game. Thar 's 'Squire Hadenskelt, up home, 
 he's got two cart-loads of law-books, tho', that's no 
 tech to this feller's ; and here 's what knocked a fifty 
 outen him once, at short cards, afore a right smart, 
 active sheep could flop his tail ary time, and kin do 
 it agin, whenever he gits over his shyness ! Human 
 natur' and the human family is my books, and I 've 
 never seed many but what I could hold my own 
 with. Let me git one o' these book-larnt fellers 
 over a bottle of " old corn " and a handful of the 
 dokkyments, and I 'm d — d apt to git what he knows, 
 and in a ginral way give him a wrinkle into the 
 bargain ! Books ain't fitten for nothin' but jist to 
 
y8 ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN LIFE. 
 
 give to childen goin' to school, to keep 'em outen 
 mischief. As old Jed'diah used to say, book-larnin' 
 spiles a man ef he's got mother-wit, and ef he ain't 
 got that it don't do him no good " — 
 
 " Hello agin ! Here 's a sirkis, and ef I warn't in 
 a hurry, right here I 'd drop a quarter, providin' I 
 could n't fix it to slip in for nothin', which is always 
 the cheapest in a ginral way." 
 
 Thus ruminating, Simon at length reached Clare's. 
 Passing into the bar-room, he stood a moment, look- 
 ing around to ascertain the direction in which he 
 should proceed to find the faro-banks, which he had 
 heard were nightly exhibited there. In a corner of 
 the room he discovered a stairway, above which 
 was burning a lurid-red lamp. Waiting for no other 
 indication, he strode up the stairs. At the landing- 
 place above he found a door, which was closed and 
 locked, but light came through the key-hole, and the 
 sharp rattling of dice and jingling of coin spoke 
 conclusively of the employment of the occupants 
 of the room. 
 
 Simon knocked. 
 
 " Hello ! '' said somebody within. 
 
 " Hello yourself ! " said the Captain. 
 
 " What do you want .? " said the voice from the 
 room. 
 
 "" A game," was the Captain's laconic answer. 
 
 " What 's the name t " again inquired the person 
 within. 
 
 " Cash," said Simon. 
 
 '* He '11 do," said another person in the room ; 
 "let 'Cash' in." 
 
 The door was opened, and Simon entered, half 
 blinded by the sudden burst of light which streamed 
 
SIMON SUGGS. 79 
 
 from the chandeliers and lamps, and was reflected 
 in every direction by the mirrors, which almost 
 walled the room. In the centre of the room was a 
 small but unique "bar," the counter of which, ex- 
 cept a small space occupied by a sliding door, at 
 which customers were served, was inclosed with bur- 
 nished brass rods. Within this " magic circle " stood 
 a pock-marked clerk, who vended to the company 
 wines and liquors too costly to be imbibed by any 
 but men of fortune or gamesters, who, alternately 
 rich and penniless, indulge every appetite without 
 stint while they have the means ; eating viands and 
 drinking wines one day which a prince might not 
 disdain, to fast entirely the next, or make a disgust- 
 ing meal from the dirty counter of a miserable eat- 
 ing-house. Disposed at regular intervals around 
 the room were tables for the various games usually 
 played, all of them thronged with eager " custom- 
 ers," and covered with heavy piles of doubloons 
 and dollars and bank-notes. Of these tables the 
 ** tiger " claimed three ; for faro was predominant in 
 those days, when a cell in a penitentiary was not 
 the penalty for exhibiting it. Most of the persons 
 in the room were well dressed, and a large propor- 
 tion members of the legislature. There was very 
 little noise, no loud swearing, but very deep playing. 
 
 As Simon entered, he made his rustic bow, and in 
 an easy, familiar way saluted the company with, — 
 
 " Good-evenin', gentle;;^^;/.'" 
 
 No one seemed inclined to acknowledge, on be- 
 half of the company, their pleasure at seeing Cap- 
 tain Suggs. Indeed, nobody appeared to notice him 
 at all after the first half second. The Captain 
 therefore repeated his salutation : — 
 
80 ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN LIFE. 
 
 '^ I say, good-evenin', gentle;;^^;^ / " 
 
 Notwithstanding the emphasis with which the 
 words were re-spoken, the-re was only a slight laugh 
 from some of the company, and the Captain began 
 to feel a little awkward, standing up before so many 
 strangers. While he was hesitating whether to be- 
 gin business at once by walking up to one of the faro 
 tables and commencing the " fight," he overheard 
 a young man standing a few feet from him say to 
 another, — 
 
 ** Jim, is n't that your uncle, General Witherspoon, 
 who has been expected here for several days with a 
 large drove of hogs ? " 
 
 *' By Jupiter," said the person addressed, " I be- 
 lieve it is, though I 'm not certain, as I have n't 
 seen him since I was a little fellow. But what makes 
 you think it 's him .-^ You never saw him." 
 
 *' No, but he suits the description given of your 
 uncle, very well, — white hair, red eyes, wide mouth, 
 and so forth. Does your uncle gamble } " 
 
 " They say he does ; but my mother, who is his 
 sister, knows hardly any more about him than the 
 rest of the world. We 've only seen him once in 
 fifteen years. I '11 be d — d," he added, looking 
 steadfastly at Simon, " if that is n't he ! He 's as rich 
 as mud, and a jovial old cock of a bachelor, so I 
 must claim kin with him." 
 
 Simon could of course have no reasonable objec- 
 tion to being believed to be General Thomas With- 
 erspoon, the rich hog drover from Kentucky. Not 
 he ! The idea pleased him excessively, and he de- 
 termined if he was not respected as General Wither- 
 spoon for the remainder of that evening, it should be 
 ''somebody else's fault," not his ! In a few minutes, 
 
SIMON SUGGS. 8 1 
 
 indeed, it was whispered through the company that 
 the red-eyed man with white hair was the wealthy 
 field-officer who drove swine to increase his fortune ; 
 and in consequence of this, Simon thought he dis- 
 covered a very considerable improvement in the way 
 of politeness, on the part of all present. The bare 
 suspicion that he was rich was sufficient to induce 
 deference and attention. 
 
 Sauntering up to a faro-bank with the intention 
 of betting, while bis money should hold out, with 
 the spirit and liberality which General Witherspoon 
 would have displayed had he been personally pres- 
 ent, he called for 
 
 "Twenty five-dollar checks, and that pretty tolo- 
 ble d — d quick ! " 
 
 The dealer handed him the red checks, and he 
 piled them upon the '' ten." 
 
 *' Grind on ! " said Simon. 
 
 A card or two was dealt, and the keeper, with 
 a profound bow, handed Simon twenty more red 
 checks. 
 
 '* Deal away," said Simon, heaping the additional 
 checks on the same card. 
 
 Again the cards flew from the little box, and again 
 Simon won. 
 
 Several persons were now overlooking the game, 
 and among the rest the young man who was so 
 happy as to be the nephew of General Witherspoon. 
 
 " The old codger has nerve ; I '11 be d — d if he 
 has n't," said one. 
 
 *' And money too," said another, '' from the way 
 he bets." 
 
 "To be sure he has," said a third; "that's the 
 rich hog drover from Kentucky," 
 
 6 
 
82 ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN LIFE. 
 
 By this time Simon had won seven hundred dol- 
 lars. But the Captain was not at all disposed to 
 discontinue. " Now," he thought, was the *' golden 
 moment " in which to press his luck ; ** now " the 
 hour of the '* tiger's " doom, when he should be 
 completely flayed. 
 
 " That brings the fat in great fleeks as big as my 
 arm ! " observed the Captain, as he won the fifth 
 consecutive bet. " It 's hooray, brother John, every 
 fire a turkey, as the boy said. Here goes again ! " 
 and he staked his winnings and the original stake 
 on the Jack. 
 
 " Gracious heavens, General ! I would n't stake so 
 much on a single card," said a young man who was 
 inclined to boot-lick anybody suspected of having 
 money. 
 
 " You would n't, young man," said the Captain, 
 turning round and facing him, *' bekase you never 
 tote a pile of that size." 
 
 The obtrusive individual shrunk back under this 
 rebuke, and the crowd voted Simon not only a man 
 of spunk, but a man of wit. 
 
 At this moment the Jack won, and the Captain 
 was better off, by fifteen hundred dollars, than when 
 he entered the saloon. 
 
 "That 's better — jist the least grain in the world 
 better^- than drivin' hogs from Kaintucky, and sell- 
 in' 'em at four cents a pound ! " triumphantly re- 
 marked Suggs. 
 
 The nephew of General Witherspoon was now 
 confident that Captain Suggs was his uncle. He 
 accordingly pushed up to him with, — 
 
 '* Don't you know me, uncle .-* " at the same time 
 extending his hand. 
 
SIMON SUGGS. ^l 
 
 Captain Suggs drew himself up with as much dig- 
 nity as he supposed the individual whom he person- 
 ated would have assumed, and remarked that he did 
 not know the young man then in his immediate pres- 
 ence. 
 
 "Don't know me, uncle? Why, I'm James Pey- 
 ton, your sister's son. She has been expecting you 
 for several days," said the much-humbled nephew of 
 the hog drover. 
 
 " All very well, Mr. Jeemes Peyton, but as this 
 little world of ourn is tolloble d — d full of rascally 
 impostors, and gentle;;/^;^ of my — that is to say — 
 you see — persons that have got somethin', is apt to 
 be tuk in, it stands a man in hand to be a leetle per- 
 ticler. So jist answer me a strait forrard question 
 or two," said the Captain, subjecting Mr. Peyton to 
 a test which, if applied to himself, would have blown 
 him sky-high. But Simon was determined to place 
 his own identity as General Witherspoon above sus- 
 picion, by seeming to suspect something wrong 
 about Mr. James Peyton. 
 
 " Oh," said several of the crowd, " everybody 
 knows he 's the widow Peyton's son, and your neph- 
 ew, of course." 
 
 " Wait for the wagin, gentle;;^^^," said Simon. 
 *' Everybody has given me several sons, which, as I 
 ain't married, I don't want ; and," added he, with a 
 very facetious v/ink and smile, '* I don't care about 
 takin' a nephy on the same terms without he's gini- 
 wine." 
 
 *' Oh, he 's genuine," said several at once. 
 
 " Hold on, gent\Q7nen ; this young man might 
 want to borrow money of me " — 
 
 Mr. Peyton protested against any such supposition. 
 
84 ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN LIFE. 
 
 "Oh, well!" said the Captain, **/ might want to 
 borrer oi yoit, and " — 
 
 Mr. Peyton signified his willingness to lend his 
 uncle the last dollar in his pocket-book. 
 
 *' Very good ! very good ! but / happen to be a 
 little 7iotiony about sich matters. It ain't every man 
 I 'd borrow from. Before I handle a man's money 
 in the way of borrerin', in the fust place I must know 
 him to be a gentleman ; in the second place, he must 
 be my friend ; and in the third place, I must think 
 he 's both able and willin' to afford the accommoda- 
 tion " — and the Captain paused and looked around 
 to receive the applause which he knew must be elic- 
 ited by the magnanimity of the sentiment. 
 
 The applause did come ; and the crowd thought, 
 while they gave it, how difficult and desirable a thing 
 it would be to lend money to General Thomas With- 
 erspoon, the rich hog drover. 
 
 The Captain now resumed his examination of Mr. 
 Peyton. 
 
 " What 's your mother's fust name t " he asked. 
 
 " Sarah," said Mr. Peyton, meekly. 
 
 " Right, so fur ! " said the Captain, with a smile 
 of approval. " How many children has she .'* " 
 
 "Two, — myself and brother Tom." 
 
 "■ Right again ! " observed the Captain. " Tom, 
 gentlew^/z," added he, turning to the crowd, and 
 venturing a shrewd guess, — ** Tom, gentlew^«, was 
 named arter me. War n't he, sir t " said he to Mr. 
 Peyton, sternly. 
 
 " He was, sir ; his name is Thomas Witherspoon." 
 
 Captain Suggs bobbed his head at the company, 
 as much as to say, "/ knew it ; " and the crowd, in 
 their own minds, decided that the soi-disant General 
 
SIMON SUGGS. 85 
 
 Witherspoon was ''a devilish sharp old cock," — 
 and the crowd was n't far out of the way. 
 
 Simon was not acting in this matter without an 
 object. He intended to make a bold attempt to win 
 a small fortune, and he thought it quite possible he 
 should lose the money he had won, in which case it 
 would be convenient to have the credit of General 
 Witherspoon to operate upon. 
 
 " Gentlew^;/," said he to the company, with whom 
 he had become vastly popular, ''your attention, one 
 moment, ef you please." 
 
 The company accorded him its most obsequious 
 attention. 
 
 " Come here, Jeemes ! " 
 
 Mr. James Peyton approached to within eighteen 
 inches of his supposititious uncle, who raised his 
 hands above the young man's head in the most im- 
 pressive manner. 
 
 " One and all, gentle;;/^;/," said he, " I call on you 
 to witness that I reckognize this here young man as 
 my proper giniwine nephy, — my sister Sally's son ; 
 and wish him respected as sich. Jeemes, hug your 
 old uncle ! " 
 
 Young Mr. James Peyton and Captain Simon 
 Suggs then embraced. Several of the by-standers 
 laughed, but a large majority sympathized with the 
 Captain. A few wept at the affecting sight, and 
 one person expressed the opinion that nothing so 
 soul-moving had ever before taken place in the city 
 of Tuskaloosa. As for Simon, the tears rolled down 
 his face as natural'y as if they had been called forth 
 by real emotion, instead of being pumped up me- 
 chanically to give effect to the scene. 
 
 Captain Suggs now renewed the engagement with 
 
S6 ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN LIFE, 
 
 the " tiger," which had been temporarily suspended 
 that he might satisfy himself of the identity of 
 James Peyton. But the "fickle goddess," jealous of 
 his attention to the nephew of General Witherspoon, 
 had deserted him in a pet. 
 
 " Thar goes a dozen d — d fine, fat hogs ! " said 
 the Captain, as the bank won a bet of two hundred 
 dollars. 
 
 Suggs shifted about from card to card, but the 
 bank won always. At last he thought it best to re- 
 turn to the '' ten," upon which he bet five hundred 
 dollars. 
 
 " Now, I '11 wool you," said he. 
 
 " Next time ! " said the dealer, as he threw the 
 winning card upon his own pile. 
 
 " That makes my hogs squeal," said the Captain ; 
 and everybody admired the fine wit and nerve of 
 the hog drover. 
 
 In half an hour Suggs was '* as flat as a flounder." 
 Not a dollar remained of his winnings or his original 
 stake. It was therefore time to *'run his face," or 
 rather the "face" of General Witherspoon. 
 
 " Could a body bet a few mighty fine bacon hogs 
 agin money at this table "t " he inquired. 
 
 The dealer would be happy to accommodate the 
 General upon his word of honor. 
 
 It was not long before Suggs had bet off a very 
 considerable number of the very fine hogs in Gen- 
 eral Witherspoon's uncommonly fine drove. He 
 began to feel, too, as if a meeting with the veritable 
 drover might be very disagreeable. He began, there- 
 fore, to entertain serious notions of borrowing some 
 money and leaving in the stage that night for 
 Greensboro'. Honor demanded, however, that he 
 
SIMON SUGGS. Zj 
 
 should '' settle " to the satisfaction of the dealer. 
 He accordingly called, — 
 
 " Jeemes ! " 
 
 Mr. Peyton responded very promptly to the call. 
 
 " Now," said Simon, " Jeemes, I 'm a little behind 
 to this gentleman here, and I 'm obleeged to go to 
 Greensboro' in to-night's stage, on account of seein' 
 ef I can engage pork thar. Now ef / should n't be 
 Jiere when my hogs come in, do yoii, Jeemes, take 
 this gentleman to wharever the boys puts 'em up, 
 and let him pick thirty of the finest in the drove. 
 D 'ye hear, Jeemes } " 
 
 James promised to attend to the delivery of the 
 hosfs. 
 
 " Is that satisfactory .'' " asked Simon. 
 
 " Perfectly," said the dealer. " Let 's take a 
 drink." 
 
 Before the Captain went up to the bar to drink, 
 he patted " Jeemes " upon the shoulder, and in- 
 timated that he desired to speak to him privately. 
 Mr. Peyton was highly delighted at this mark of his 
 rich uncle's confidence, and turned his head to see 
 whether the company noted it. Having ascertained 
 that they did, he accompanied his uncle to an un- 
 occupied part of the saloon. 
 
 "Jeemes," said the Captain thoughtfully, *' has 
 your — mother bought — her — her — pork yet .-* " 
 
 James said she had not. 
 
 "Well, Jeemes, when my drove comes in, do you 
 go down and pick her out ten of the best. Tell the 
 boys to show you them new breed, — the Berk- 
 shears." 
 
 Mr. Peyton made his grateful acknowledgments 
 for his untle's generosity, and they started back to 
 
88 ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN LIFE. 
 
 wards the crowd. Before they had advanced more 
 than a couple of steps, however, — 
 
 " Stop ! " said Simon. *' I 'd like to 'a' forgot. Have 
 you as much as a couple of hunderd by you, Jeemes, 
 that I could use twell I git back from Greens- 
 boro' } " 
 
 Mr. Peyton was very sorry he had n't more than 
 fifty dollars about him. His uncle could take that, 
 however, — as he did forthwith, — and he would 
 "jump about" and get the balance in ten minutes. 
 
 " Don't do it, ef it 's any trouble at all, Jeemes," 
 said the Captain, cunningly. 
 
 But Mr. James Peyton was determined that he 
 would " raise the wind " for his uncle, let the 
 "trouble" be what it might ; and so energetic were 
 his endeavors that in a few moments he returned 
 to the Captain, and handed him the desired amount. 
 
 ''Much obleeged to you, Jeemes ; I'll remember 
 you for this." And no doubt the Captain has kept 
 his word ; for whenever he makes a promise which 
 it costs nothing to perform. Captain Simon Suggs is 
 the most punctual of men. 
 
 After Suggs had taken a glass of " sperrets " with 
 his friend the dealer, whom he assured he consid- 
 ered the "smartest and cleverest" fellow out of Ken- 
 tucky, he wished to retire. But just as he was leav- 
 ing it was suggested in his hearing that an oyster 
 supper would be no inappropriate way of testifying 
 his joy at meeting his clever nephew and so many 
 true-hearted friends. 
 
 " Ah, gentlem^;/, the old hog drover 's broke now, 
 or he 'd be proud to treat to something of the sort. 
 They 've knocked the leaf fat outen him to-night, in 
 wads as big as mattock iiandles," observed Suggs, 
 
SIMON SUGGS. 89 
 
 looking at the bar-keeper out of the corner of his 
 left eye. 
 
 " Anything this house affords is at the disposal 
 of General Witherspoon," said the bar-keeper. 
 
 ** Well ! well !" said Simon, ''you're all so clever, 
 I must stand it, I suppose, tho' I ought n't to be so 
 extravagant." 
 
 "Take the crowd, sir } " 
 
 *' Certainly," said Simon. 
 
 " How much champagne, General "^ " 
 
 " I reckon we can make out with a couple of bas- 
 kets," said the Captain, who was determined to sus- 
 tain any reputation for liberality which General 
 Witherspoon might, perchance, possess. 
 
 There was a considerable ringing of bells for a 
 brief space, and then a door, which Simon had n't be- 
 fore seen, was thrown open, and the company ush- 
 ered into a handsome supping apartment. Seated at 
 the convivial board, the Captain outshone himself ; 
 and to this day some of the bo7i mots which escaped 
 him on that occasion are remembered and repeated. 
 
 At length, after the proper quantity of champagne 
 and oysters had been swallowed, the young man 
 whom Simon had so signally rebuked early in the 
 evening rose, and remarked that he had a sentiment 
 to propose. "I give you, gentlemen," said he, "the 
 health of General Witherspoon. Long may he live, 
 and often may he visit our city and partake of its 
 hospitaUties ! " 
 
 Thunders of applause followed this toast, and 
 Suggs, as in duty bound, got up in his chair to re- 
 spond. 
 
 " Gentle;;^^;^," said he, " I 'm devilish glad to see 
 you all, and much obleeged to you, besides. You 
 
QO ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN LIFE. 
 
 are the finest people I ever was amongst, and treat 
 me a d — d sight better than they do at home " — 
 which was a fact ! " Hows'ever, I 'm a poor hand 
 to speak, but here 's wishing of luck to you all," — 
 and then wickedly seeming to blunder in his little 
 speech, — ''and if I forgit you, I '11 be d — d if you '11 
 ever forgit me ! " 
 
 Again there was a mixed noise of human voices, 
 plates, knives and forks, glasses, and wine bottles, 
 and then the company agreed to disperse. " What 
 a noble-hearted fellow ! " exclaimed a dozen in a 
 breath, as they were leaving. 
 
 As Simon and Peyton passed out, the bar-keeper 
 handed the former a slip of paper, containing such 
 items as " twenty-seven dozen of oysters, twenty- 
 seven dollars ; two baskets of champagne, thirty-six 
 dollars," — making a grand total of sixty-three dol- 
 lars. 
 
 The Captain, who " felt his wine," only hiccoughed, 
 nodded at Peyton, and observed, — 
 
 " Jeemes, you '11 attend to this .-* " 
 
 " Jeemes " said he would, and the pair walked out 
 and bent their way to the stage-office, where the 
 Greensboro' coach was already drawn up. Simon 
 would n't wake the hotel keeper to get his saddle- 
 bags, because, as he said, he would probably return 
 in a day or two. 
 
 "Jeemes," said he, as he held that individual's 
 hand, — "Jeemes, has your mother bought her pork 
 yet .? " 
 
 " No, sir," said Peyton ; " you know you told me 
 to take ten of your hogs for her, — don't you recol- 
 lect } " 
 
 " Don't do that," said Simon, sternly. 
 
" Take twenty ! " said the Captain. See page 91. 
 
SIMON SUGGS. 91 
 
 Peyton stood aghast ! " Why, sir ? " he asked. 
 
 ** Take twenty ! " said the Captain, and, wringing 
 the hand he held, he bounced into the coach, which 
 whirled away, leaving Mr. James Peyton on the 
 pavement, in profound contemplation of the bound- 
 less generosity of his uncle, General Thomas With- 
 erspoon of Kentucky ! 
 
FLUSH TIMES. 
 
 It is now nearly thirty years since the publication of " The Flush 
 Times of Alabama and Mississippi, by Joseph G. Baldwin," and, 
 although the volume abounds with graphic anecdotes of the South 
 during the period extending from 1830 to 1S50, and is both entertain- 
 ing and illustrative, it is out of print. Its author, Judge Baldwin, was 
 in his day a lawyer of repute, who late in life migrated to California. 
 His sketches have the merit of fidelity to truth as well as local color. 
 
 I. 
 
 HOW THE TIMES SERVED THE VIRGINIANS. — VIRGINIANS 
 
 IN A NEW COUNTRY. THE RISE, DECLINE, AND FALL 
 
 OF THE RAG EMPIRE. 
 
 The disposition to be proud and vain of one's 
 country, and to boast of it, is a natural feeling, in- 
 dulged or not in respect to the pride, vanity, and 
 boasting, according to the character of the native ; 
 but with a Virginian it is a passion. It inheres in 
 him, even as the flavor of a York River oyster in 
 that bivalve ; and no distance of deportation, and no 
 trimmings of a gracious prosperity, and no pickling 
 in the sharp acids of adversity can destroy it. It is 
 a part of the Virginia character, just as the flavor 
 is a distinctive part of the oyster, "which cannot, 
 save by annihilating, die." It is no use talking about 
 it ; the thing may be right, or wrong : like Fal- 
 staff's victims at Gadshill, it is past praying for : it 
 
FLUSH TIMES. 93 
 
 is a sort of cocoa grass that has got into the soil, 
 and has so matted over it, and so fibred through 
 it, as to have become a part of it ; at least, there is 
 no telling which is the grass and which is the soil ; 
 and certainly it is useless labor to try to root it out. 
 You may destroy the soil, but you can't root out the 
 
 grass. 
 
 Patriotism with a Virginian is a noun personal. 
 It is the Virginian himself, and something over. He 
 loves Virginia /^r se diud propter se ; he loves her for 
 herself and for himself ; because she is Virginia 
 and — everything else beside. He loves to talk 
 about her : out of the abundance of the heart the 
 mouth speaketh. It makes no odds where he goes, 
 he carries Virginia with him ; not in the entirety, 
 always, but the little spot he came from is Virginia ; 
 as Swedenborg says, the smallest part of the brain 
 is an abridgment of all of it. *' Ccehmiy no7i animum^ 
 mutant qui trajts mare ciimmtl' was made for a 
 Virginian. He never gets acclimated elsewhere ; 
 he never loses citizenship to the old home. The 
 right of expatriation is a pure abstraction to him. 
 He may breathe in Alabama, but he lives in Vir- 
 ginia. His treasure is there, and his heart also. If 
 he looks at the Delta of the Mississippi, it reminds 
 him of James River " low grounds ; '' if he sees the 
 vast prairies of Texas, it is a memorial of the 
 meadows of the Valley. Richmond is the centre of 
 attraction, the depot of all that is grand, great, good, 
 and glorious. *'It is the Kentucky of a place" which 
 the preacher described heaven to be to the Ken- 
 tucky congregation. 
 
 Those who came many years ago from the borough 
 towns, especially from the vicinity of Williamsburg, 
 
94 ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN LIFE. 
 
 exceed, in attachment t© their birthplace, if possible, 
 the hnigres from the metropolis. It is refreshing, in 
 these costermonger times, to hear them speak of it : 
 they remember it when the old burg was the seat 
 of fashion, taste, refinement, hospitality, wealth, wit, 
 and all social graces ; when genius threw its spell 
 over the public assemblages and illumined the halls 
 of justice, and when beauty brightened the social 
 hour with her unmatched and matchless brilliancy. 
 Then the spirited and gifted youths of the College 
 of old William and Mary, some of them just giving 
 out the first scintillations of the genius that after- 
 wards shone refulgent in the forum and the Senate, 
 added to the attractions of a society gay, cultivated, 
 and refined beyond example, even in the Old Do- 
 minion. A hallowed charm seems to rest upon the 
 venerable city, clothing its very dilapidation in a 
 drapery of romance and of serene and classic inter- 
 est, as if all the sweet and softened splendor which 
 invests the " Midsummer Night's Dream " were 
 poured in a flood of mellow and poetic radiance over 
 the now quiet and half " deserted village." There 
 is something in the shadow from the old college 
 walls, cast by the moon upon the grass and sleeping 
 on the sward, that throws a like shadow, soft, sad, 
 and melancholy, upon the heart of the returning pil- 
 grim who saunters out to view again, by moonlight, 
 his old Alma Mater, the nursing mother of such a 
 list and such a line of statesmen and heroes. 
 
 There is nothing presumptuously froward in this- 
 Virginianism. The Virginian does not make broad 
 his phylacteries, and crow over the poor Carolinian 
 and Tennesseeian. He does not reproach him with 
 his misfortune of birthplace. No, he thinks the af- 
 
FLUSH TIMES. 95 
 
 fliction is enough without the triumph. The fran- 
 chise of having been born in Virginia and the pre- 
 rogative founded thereon are too patent of honor and 
 distinction to be arrogantly pretended. The bare 
 mention is enough. He finds occasion to let the 
 fact be known, and then the fact is fully able to 
 protect and take care of itself. Like a ducal title, 
 there is no need of saying more than to name it ; 
 modesty then is a becoming and expected virtue ; 
 forbearance to boast is true dignity. 
 
 The Virginian is a magnanimous man. He never 
 throws up to a Yankee the fact of his birthplace. 
 He feels on the subject as a man of delicacy feels 
 in alluding to a rope in the presence of a person one 
 of whose brothers " stood upon nothing and kicked 
 at the United States," or to a female indiscretion 
 where there had been scandal concerning the fam- 
 ily. So far do they carry this refinement, that I have 
 known one of my countrymen, on occasion of a Bos- 
 tonian owning where he was born, generously pro- 
 test that he had never heard of it before. As if 
 honest confession half obliterated the shame of the 
 fact. Yet he does not lack the grace to acknowl- 
 edge worth or merit in another, wherever the native 
 place of that other : for it is a common thing to hear 
 them say of a neighbor : '* He is a clever fellow, 
 tJwiigJi he did come from New Jersey, or even Con- 
 necticut." 
 
 In politics the Virginian is learned much beyond 
 what is written, for they have heard a great deal 
 of speaking on that prolific subject, especially by 
 one or two Randolphs and any number of Barbours. 
 They read the same papers here they read in Vir- 
 ginia, the "Richmond Enquirer" and the "Richmond 
 
96 ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN LIFE. 
 
 Whig." The democrat stoutly asseverates a fact, 
 and gives " The Enquirer " as his authority with an 
 air that means to say, tJiat settles it ; while the whig 
 quoted Hampden Pleasants with the same confi- 
 dence. But the faculty of personalizing everything, 
 which the exceeding social turn of a Virginian gives 
 him, rarely allowed a reference to the paper, eo nom- 
 hie ; but made him refer to the editor, as *' Ritchie" 
 said so and so, or ** Hampden Pleasants " said this 
 or that. When two of opposite politics got together, 
 it was amusing, if you had nothing else to do that 
 day, to hear the discussion. I never knew a debate 
 that did not start ab tirbe condita. ' They not only 
 went back to first principles, but also to first times ; 
 nor did I ever hear a discussion in which old John 
 Adams and Thomas Jefferson did not figure — as if 
 an interminable dispute had been going on for so 
 many generations between those disputatious per- 
 sonages ; as if the quarrel had begun before time, 
 but was not to end with it. But the strangest part 
 of it to me was, that the dispute seemed to be going 
 on without poor Adams having any defence or cham- 
 pion ; and never waxed hotter than when both par- 
 ties agreed in denouncing the man of Braintree as 
 the worst of public sinners and the vilest of political 
 heretics. They both agreed on one thing, and that 
 was to refer the matter to the Resolutions of 1798- 
 99 ; which said resolutions, like Goldsmith's " Good- 
 Natured Man," arbitrating between Mr. and Mrs. 
 Croaker, seemed so impartial that they agreed with 
 both parties on every occasion. 
 
 Nor do I recollect of hearing any question debated 
 that did not resolve itself into a question of consti- 
 tution, strict construction, etc., — the constitution 
 
FLUSH TIMES. 97 
 
 being a thing of that curious virtue that its chief ex- 
 cellency consisted in not allowing the government 
 to do anything ; or in being a regular prize-fighter 
 that knocked all laws and legislators into a cocked 
 hat, except those of the objector's party. 
 
 Frequent reference was reciprocally made to 
 " gorgons, hydras, and chimeras dire," to black cock- 
 ades, blue lights, Essex juntos, the Reign of Terror, 
 and some other mystic entities ; but who or what 
 these monsters were, I never could distinctly learn ; 
 and was surprised, on looking into the history of the 
 country, to find that, by some strange oversight, no 
 allusion was made to them. 
 
 Great is the Virginian's reverence of great men, 
 that is to say, of great Virginians. This reverence 
 is not Unitarian. He is a Polytheist. He believes 
 in a multitude of Virginia gods. As the Romans of 
 every province and village had their tutelary or other 
 divinities, besides having divers national gods, so the 
 Virginian of every county has his great man, the 
 like of whom cannot be found in the new country 
 he has exiled himself to. This sentiment of venera- 
 tion for talent, especially for speaking talent ; this 
 amiable propensity to lionize men, is not peculiar to 
 any class of Virginians among us : it abides in all. 
 I was amused to hear "old Culpepper," as w^e call 
 him (by nickname derived from the county he came 
 from), declaiming in favor of the Union. '' What, 
 gentlemen," said the old man, w^ith a sonorous swell 
 
 — " what burst up this glorious Union ! and who, 
 if this Union is torn up, could write another } No- 
 body except Henry Clay and J. S. B. of Culpepper 
 
 — and may be they would n't — and what then would 
 you do for another t " 
 
 7 
 
98 ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN LIFE. 
 
 The greatest compliment a Virginian can ever pay 
 to a speaker is to say that he reminds him of a Colo- 
 nel Broadhorn or a Captain Smith, who represented 
 some royal-named county some forty years or less 
 in the Virginia House of Delegates ; and of whom 
 the auditor of course has heard, as he made several 
 speeches in the capitol at Richmond. But the force 
 of the compliment is somewhat broken by a long 
 narrative, in which the personal reminiscences of the 
 speaker go back to sundry sketches of the Virginia 
 statesman's efforts, and recapitulations of his say- 
 ings interspersed, /^r/<2r^;////£i-^, with many valuable 
 notes illustrative of his pedigree and performances ; 
 the whole of which, given with great historical fidel- 
 ity of detail, leaves nothing to be wished for except 
 the point, or rather two point^s, — the gist and the 
 period. 
 
 It is not to be denied that Virginia is the land of 
 orators, heroes, and statesmen ; and that, directly or 
 indirectly, she has exerted an influence upon the 
 national councils nearly as great as all the rest of 
 the States combined. It is wonderful that a State 
 of its size and population should have turned out 
 such an unprecedented quantum of talent, and of 
 talent as various in kind as prodigious in amount. 
 She has reason to be proud ; and the other States 
 so largely in her debt (for, from Cape May to Puget's 
 Sound she has colonized the other States and the 
 Territories with her surplus talent,) ought to allow 
 her the harmless privilege of a little bragging. In 
 the showy talent of oratory has she especially shone. 
 To accomplish her in this art the State has been 
 turned into a debating society, and while she has 
 been talkmor for the benefit of the nation, as she 
 
FLUSH TIMES. 99 
 
 thought, the other, and by nature less favored States, 
 have been doing for their own. Consequently, what 
 she has gained in reputation, she has lost in wealth 
 and material aids. Certainly the Virginia character 
 has been less distinguished for its practical than its 
 ornamental traits, and for its business quaHties than 
 for its speculative temper. Cui bojio and utilitarian- 
 ism, at least until latterly, were not favorite or con- 
 genial inquiries and subjects of attention to the Vir- 
 ginia politician. What the Virginian was upon his 
 native soil, that he was abroad ; indeed, it may be 
 said that the amor patrice, strengthened by absence, 
 made him more of a conservative abroad than h^ 
 would have been if he had stayed at home, for most 
 of them here would not, had they been consulted, 
 have changed either of the old Constitutions. 
 
 It is far, however, from my purpose to treat of such 
 themes. I only glance at them to show their influ- 
 ence on the character as it was developed on a new 
 theatre. 
 
 Eminently social and hospitable, kind, humane, and 
 generous, is a Virginian, at home or abroad. They 
 are so by nature and habit. These qualities and 
 their exercise develop and strengthen other virtues. 
 By reason of these social traits, they necessarily be- 
 come well mannered, honorable, spirited, and care- 
 ful of reputation, desirous of pleasing, and skilled 
 in the accomplishments which please. Their insular 
 position and sparse population, mostl}^ rural, and 
 easy but not affluent fortunes, kept them from the 
 artificial refinements and the strong temptations 
 which corrupt so much of the society of the Old 
 World and some portions of the New. There was 
 no character more attractive than that of a young 
 
100 ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN LIFE. 
 
 Virginian, fifteen years ago, of intelligence, of good 
 family, education, and breeding. 
 
 It was of the instinct of a Virginian to seek so- 
 ciety ; he belongs to the gregarious, not to the soli- 
 tary division of animals ; and society can only be 
 kept up by grub and gab — something to eat, and, 
 if not something to talk about, talk. Accordingly 
 they came accomplished already in the knowledge 
 and the talent for these important duties. 
 
 A Virginian could always get up a good dinner. 
 He could also do his share — a full hand's work — in 
 disposing of one after it was got up. The qualifica- 
 tions for hostmanship were signal — the old Udaller 
 himself, assisted by Claud Halrco, could not do up 
 the thing in better style, or with a heartier relish, 
 or a more cordial hospitality. In petite manners — 
 the little attentions of the table, the filling up of the 
 chinks of the conversation with small fugitive ob- 
 servations, the supplying the hooks and eyes that 
 kept the discourse together, the genial good humor, 
 which, like that of the family of the good Vicar, 
 made up in laughter what was wanting in wit, — in 
 these, and in the science of getting up and in get- 
 ting through a picnic, or chowder party, or fish fry, 
 the Virginian, like Eclipse, was first, and there was 
 no second. Great was he, too, at mixing an apple 
 toddy or mint julep, where ice could be got for love 
 or money ; and not deficient, by any means, when 
 it came to his turn to do honor to his own fabrics. 
 It was in this department that he not only shone, 
 but ontshoTLQ, not merely all others, but himself. 
 Here he was at home indeed His elocution, his 
 matter, his learning, his education, were of the first 
 order. He could discourse of everything around 
 
FLUSH TIMES. lOI 
 
 him with an accuracy and a fullness which would 
 have put Coleridge's or Mrs. Ellis's table talk to the 
 blush. Every dish was a text, horticulture, hunt- 
 ing, poultry, fishing (Isaak Walton or Daniel Web- 
 ster would have been charmed and instructed to 
 hear him discourse piscatory-wise), a slight diver- 
 gence in favor of fox-chasing and a detour towards 
 a horse-race now and then, and continual paren- 
 theses of recommendation of particular dishes or 
 glasses — Oh ! I tell you, if ever there was an inter- 
 esting man, it was he. Others might be agreeable, 
 but he was fascinating, irresistible, not-to-be-done- 
 without. 
 
 In the fullness of time the new era had set in, 
 the era of the second great experiment of independ- 
 ence, — the experiment, namely, of credit without 
 capital, and enterprise without honesty. The Age 
 of Brass had succeeded the Arcadian period, when 
 men got rich by saving a part of their earnings, 
 and lived at their own cost 'and in ignorance of the 
 new plan of making fortunes on the profits of what 
 they owed. A new theory, not found in the works 
 on political economy, was broached. It was found 
 out that the prejudice in favor of the metals (brass 
 excluded) was an absurd superstition, and that, in 
 reality, anything else which the parties interested 
 in giving it currency chose might serve as a repre- 
 sentative of value and medium for exchange of 
 property ; and as gold and silver had served for a 
 great number of years as representatives, the repub- 
 lican doctrine of rotation in office required they 
 should give way. Accordingly, it was decided that 
 Rags, a very familiar character, and very popular 
 and easy of access, should take their place. Rags 
 
102 ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN LIFE. 
 
 belonged to the school of progress. He was repre- 
 sentative of the then Young America. His admin- 
 istration was not tame. It was very spirited. It 
 was based on the Bonapartist idea of keeping the 
 imagination of the people excited. The leading 
 fiscal idea of his system was to democratize capital, 
 and to make, for all purposes of trade, credit, and en- 
 joyment of wealth, the man that had no money a 
 little richer, if anything, than the man that bad a 
 million. The principle of success and basis of opera- 
 tion, though inexplicable in the hurry of the time, is 
 plain enough now : it was faith. Let the public be- 
 lieve that a smutted rag is money, it is money : in 
 other words, it was a sort of financial biology, which 
 made, at night, the thing conjured for the thing that 
 was seen, so far as the patient was concerned, while 
 the fit was on him — except that now a man does 
 not do his tradins: when under the mesmeric influ- 
 ence : in the flush times he did. 
 
 This country was just settling up. Marvelous 
 accounts had gone forth of the fertility of its virgin 
 lands ; and the productions of the soil were com- 
 manding a price remunerating to slave labor as it 
 had never been remunerated before. Emigrants 
 came flocking in from all quarters of the Union, es- 
 pecially from the slave-holding States. The new 
 country seemed to be a reservoir, and every road 
 leading to it a vagrant stream of enterprise and ad- 
 venture. Money, or wdiat passed for money, was 
 the only cheap thing to be had. Every cross-road 
 and every avocation presented an opening, through 
 which a fortune was seen by the adventurer in near 
 perspective. Credit was a thing of course. To re- 
 fuse it — if the thing was ever done — were an in- 
 
FLUSH TIMES. IO3 
 
 suit for which a bowie-knife were not a too summary 
 or exemplary a means of redress. The state banks 
 were issuing their bills by the . sheet, like a patent 
 steam printing-press its issues ; and no other show- 
 ing was asked of the applicant for the loan than 
 an authentication of his great distress for money. 
 Finance, even in its most exclusive quarter, had 
 thus already got, in this wonderful revolution, to 
 work upon the principles of the charity hospital. 
 If an overseer grew tired of supervising a planta- 
 tion, and felt a call to the mercantile life, even if he 
 omitted the compendious method of buying out a 
 merchant wholesale, stock, house, and good-will, and 
 laying down, at once, his bull-whip for the yard- 
 stick, all he had to do was to go on to New York, 
 and present himself in Pearl Street with a letter 
 avouching his citizenship and a clean shirt, and he 
 was regularly given a through ticket to speedy bank- 
 ruptcy. 
 
 Under this stimulating process prices rose like 
 smoke. Lots in obscure villages were held at city 
 prices ; lands, bought at the minimum cost of gov- 
 ernment, were sold at from thirty to forty dollars 
 per acre, and considered dirt cheap at that. In short, 
 the country had got to be a full antitype of Califor- 
 nia, in all except the gold. Society was wholly un- 
 organized, there was no restraining public opinion, 
 the law was well-nigh powerless, and religion scarcely 
 was heard of except as furnishing the oaths and 
 technics of profanity. The world saw a fair ex- 
 periment of what it would have been if the fiat had 
 never been pronounced which decreed subsistence 
 as the price of labor. 
 
 Money got without work, by those unaccustomed 
 
104 ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN LIFE. 
 
 to it, turned the heads of its possessors, and they 
 spent it with a recklessness like that with which 
 they gained it. The pursuits of industry neglected, 
 riot and coarse debauchery filled up the vacant 
 hours. " Where the carcass is, there will the eagles 
 be gathered together;" and the eagles that flocked 
 to the Southwest were of the same sort as the black 
 eagles the Duke of Saxe-Weimar saw on his cele- 
 brated journey to the Natural Bridge. " The cankers 
 of a long peace and a calm world " — there were no 
 Mexican wars and filibuster expeditions in those days 
 — gathered in the villages and cities by scores. 
 
 Even the little boys caught the taint of the gen- 
 eral infection of morals ; and I knew one of them — 
 Jim Ellett by name — to give a man ten dollars to 
 hold him up to bet at the table of a faro-bank. James 
 was a fast youth ; and I sincerely hope he may not 
 fulfill his early promise, and some day be assisted 
 up still JiigJier. 
 
 The groceries — vidgice doggeries — were in full 
 blast in those days, no village having less than a 
 half dozen all busy all the time : gaming and horse- 
 racing were polite and well-patronized amusements. 
 I knew of a judge to adjourn two courts (or court 
 twice) to attend a horse-race, at which he officiated 
 judicially and ministerially, and with more appro- 
 priateness than in the judicial chair. Occasionally 
 the scene was diversified by a murder or two, which, 
 though perpetrated from behind a corner, or behind 
 the back of the deceased, whenever the accused 
 chose to stand his trial, was always found to be com- 
 mitted in self-defense, securing the homicide an 
 honorable acquittal at the harids of his peers. 
 
 The old rules of business and the calculations of 
 
FLUSH TIMES. IO5 
 
 prudence were alike disregarded, and profligacy, in 
 all the departments of the crimen falsi, held riotous 
 carnival. Larceny grew not only respectable, but 
 genteel, and ruffled it in all the pomp of purple and 
 fine linen. Swindling was raised to the dignity of 
 the fine arts. Felony came forth from its covert, 
 put on more seemly habiliments, and took its seat 
 with unabashed front in the upper places of the syn- 
 agogue. Before the first circles of the patrons of 
 this brilliant and dashing villainy, Blunt Honesty 
 felt as abashed as poor Halbert Glendinning by the 
 courtly refinement and supercilious airs of Sir Piercie 
 Shafton. 
 
 Public office represented, by its incumbents, the 
 state of public morals with some approach to ac- 
 curacy. Out of sixty-six receivers of public money 
 in the new States, sixty-two were discovered to be 
 defaulters ; and the agent sent to look into the af- 
 fairs of a peccant office-holder in the Southwest 
 reported him viimLS some tens of thousands, but 
 advised the government to retain him, for a reason 
 one of yEsop's fables illustrates : the agent ingen- 
 iously surmising that the appointee succeeding would 
 do his stealing without any regard to the proficiency 
 already made by his predecessor, while the present 
 incumbent would probably consider, in mercy to the 
 treasury, that he Jiad done something of the pious 
 duty of providing for his household. 
 
 There was no petit larceny : there was all the 
 difference between stealing by the small and the 
 " operations " manipulated that there is between a 
 single assassination and an hundred thousand men 
 killed in an opium war. The placeman robbed with 
 the gorgeous magnificence of a Governor-General ot 
 Bengal. 
 
106 ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN IIFE. 
 
 The man of straw, not worth the buttons on his 
 shirt, with a sublime audacity, bought lands and 
 negroes, and provided times and terms of payment 
 which a Wall Street capitalist would have to recast 
 his arrangements to meet. 
 
 O Paul Clifford and Augustus Tomlinson, philos- 
 ophers of the road, practical and theoretical ! If 
 ye had lived to see those times, how great an im- 
 provement on your ruder scheme of distribution 
 would these gentle arts have seemed, — arts where- 
 by, without risk, or loss of character, or the vulgar 
 barbarism of personal violence, the same beneficial 
 results flowed, with no greater injury to the super- 
 stitions of moral education ! 
 
 With the change of times and the imagination of 
 wealth easily acquired came a change in the thoughts 
 and habits of the people. " Old times were changed, 
 old manners gone." Visions of affluence, such as 
 crowded Dr. Samuel Johnson's mind, when adver- 
 tising a sale of Thrale's Brewery, and casting a soft 
 sheep's eye toward Thrale's widow, thronged upon 
 the popular fancy. Avarice and hope joined part- 
 nership. It was strange how the reptile arts of hu- 
 manity, as at a faro-table, warmed into life beneath 
 their heat. The cacoethes accrescendi became epi- 
 demic. It seized upon the universal community, 
 The pulpits even were not safe from its insidious 
 invasion. What men anxiously desire they willingly 
 believe ; and all believed a good time was coming, — 
 nay, had come. 
 
 *' Commerce was king," and Rags, Tag, and Bob- 
 tail his cabinet council. Rags was treasurer. Banks, 
 chartered on a specie basis, did a very flourishing 
 business on the promissory notes of the individ« 
 
FLUSH TIMES. 10/ 
 
 ual stockholders, ingeniously substituted in lieu of 
 cash. They issued ten for one, the one being ficti- 
 tious. They generously loaned all the directors could 
 not use themselves, and were not choice whether 
 Bardolph was the indorser for Falstaff or Falstaff 
 borrowed on his own proper credit or the funds 
 advanced him by Shallow. The stampede towards 
 the golden temple became general ; the delusion 
 prevailed far and wide that this thing was not a 
 burlesque on commerce and finance. Even the di- 
 rectors of the banks began to have their doubts 
 whether the intended swindle was not a failure. 
 Like Lord Clive, when reproached for extortion to 
 the extent of some millions in Bengal, they ex- 
 claimed, after the bubble burst, ** When they thought 
 of what they had got, and what they might have got, 
 they were astounded at their own moderation ! " 
 
 The old capitalists for a while stood out. With 
 the Tory conservatism of cash in hand, worked for, 
 they could n't reconcile their old notions to the new 
 regime. They looked for the thing's ending, and then 
 their time. But the stampede still kept on. Paper 
 fortunes still multiplied ; houses and lands changed 
 hands ; real estate see-sawed up as morals went down 
 on the other end of the plank ; men of straw, corpu- 
 lent with bank bills, strutted past them on 'Change. 
 They began, too, to think there might be something 
 in this new thing. Peeping cautiously, like hedge- 
 hogs, out of their holes, they saw the stream of wealth 
 and adventurers passing by ; then, looking carefully 
 around, they inched themselves half-way out ; then, 
 sallying forth and snatching up a morsel, ran back ; 
 until at last, grown more bold, ///^ ran out too with 
 their hoarded store, in full chase with the other un- 
 
I08 ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN LIFE. 
 
 clean beasts of adventure. They never got back 
 again. Jonah's gourd withered one night, and next 
 morning the vermin that had nestled under its broad 
 shade were left unprotected, a prey to the swift ret- 
 ribution that came upon them. They w^ere left 
 naked, or only clothed themselves with cursing (the 
 Specie Circular on the United States Bank) as with 
 a garment. To drop the figure, Shylock himself 
 could n't live in those times, so reversed was every- 
 thing. Shaving paper and loaning money at a 
 usury of fifty per cent, was for the first time since 
 the Jews left Jerusalem a breaking business to the 
 operator. 
 
 The condition of society may be imagined : vul- 
 garity, ignorance, fussy and arrogant pretension, 
 unmitigated rowdyism, bullying insolence, if they 
 did not rule the hour, seemed to wield unchecked 
 dominion. The workings of these choice spirits 
 were patent upon the face of society ; and the mod- 
 est, unobtrusive, retiring men of worth and charac- 
 ter (for there were many, perhaps a large majority 
 of such) were almost lost sight of in the hurly-burly 
 of those strange and shifting scenes. 
 
 Even in the professions were the same character- 
 istics visible. Men dropped down into their places 
 as from the clouds. Nobody knew who or what they 
 were, except as they claimed, or as a surface view of 
 their characters indicated. Instead of taking to the 
 highway, and magnanimously calling upon the way- 
 farer to stand and deliver, or to the fashionable lar- 
 ceny of credit without prospect or design of paying, 
 some unscrupulous horse doctor would set up his 
 sign as " Physician and Surgeon," and draw his 
 lancet on you, or fire at random a box of his pills 
 
FLUSH TIMES. IO9 
 
 into your bowels, with a vague chance of hitting 
 some disease unknown to him, but with a better 
 prospect of kilHng the patient, whom or whose ad- 
 ministrator he charged some ten dollars a trial for 
 his markmanship. 
 
 A superannuated justice or constable in one of 
 the old States was metamorphosed into a lawyer ; 
 and thouofh he knew not the distinction between a 
 fee tail and a female would undertake to construe, 
 off-hand, a will involving all the subtleties of uses 
 and trusts. 
 
 But this state of things could not last forever : so- 
 ciety cannot always stand on its head, with its heels 
 in the air. 
 
 The Jupiter Tonans of the White House saw the 
 monster of a free credit prowling about like a beast 
 of apocalyptic vision, and marked him for his prey. 
 Gathering all his bolts in his sinewy grasp, and 
 standing back on his heels, and waving his wiry 
 arm, he let them all fly, hard and swift, upon all the 
 hydra's heads. Then came a crash, as *' if the ribs 
 of nature broke," and a scattering, like the bursting 
 of a thousand magazines, and a smell of brimstone, 
 as if Pandemonium had opened a window next to 
 earth for ventilation, — and all was silent. The 
 beast never stirred in his tracks. To get down from 
 the clouds to level ground, the Specie Circular was 
 issued without warning, and the splendid lie of a 
 false credit burst into fragments. It came in the 
 midst of the dance and the frolic, as Tam O'Shan- 
 ter came to disturb the infernal glee of the warlocks, 
 and to disperse the rioters. Its effect was like that 
 of a general creditor's bill in the chancery court, and 
 a marshaling of all the assets of the trades-people. 
 
no ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN LIFE. 
 
 General Jackson was no fairy ; but he did some very 
 pretty fairy work in converting the bank bills back 
 again into rags and oak-leaves. Men worth a mill- 
 ion were insolvent for two millions ; promising young 
 cities marched back again into the wilderness. The 
 ambitious town plat was re-annexed to the planta- 
 tion, like a country girl taken home from the city. 
 The frolic was ended, and what headaches and fe- 
 verish limbs the next morning ! The retreat from 
 Moscow was performed over again, and " Devil take 
 the hindmost " was the tune to which the soldiers of 
 fortune marched. The only question was as to the 
 means of escape, and the nearest and best route to 
 Texas. The sheriff was as busy as a militia adjutant 
 on review day ; and the lawyers were mere wreckers, 
 earning salvage. Where are ye now, my ruffling gal- 
 lants .-* Where now the braw cloths and watch-chains 
 and rings and fine horses .'* Alas for ye ! they are 
 glimmering among the things that were, the wonder 
 of an hour ! They live only in memory, as unsub- 
 stantial as the promissory notes ye gave for them. 
 When it came to be tested, the whole matter was 
 found to be hollow and fallacious. Like a sum 
 ciphered out through a long column, the first figure 
 an error, the whole and all the parts were wrong, 
 throughout the entire calculation. 
 
 Such is a charcoal sketch of the interesting region 
 • — now inferior to none in resources and the char- 
 acter of its population — during the flush times ; 
 a period constituting an episode in the commercial 
 history of the world, — the reign of humbug and 
 wholesale insanity, just overthrown in time to save 
 the whole country from ruin. But while it lasted, 
 many of our countrymen came into the Southwest 
 
FLUSH TIMES. Ill 
 
 in time to get '* a benefit." The miri sacra fames 
 is a catching disease. Many Virginians had lived 
 too fast for their fortunes, and naturally desired to 
 recuperate ; many others, with a competency, longed 
 for wealth ; and others, again, with wealth, yearned 
 — the common frailty — for still more. Perhaps 
 some friend or relative, who had come out, wrote 
 back flattering accounts of the El Dorado, and fired 
 with dissatisfaction those who were doing well 
 enough at home, by the report of his real or imag- 
 ined success ; for who that ever moved off was not 
 "doing well " in the new countr}', himself or friends 
 being chroniclers .'' 
 
 Superior to many of the settlers in elegance of 
 manners and general intelligence, it was the weak- 
 ness of the Virginian to imagine he was superior 
 too in the essential art of being able to hold his 
 hand and make his way in a new country, and es- 
 pecially siLch a country, and at such a time. What 
 a mistake that was! The times were out of joint. 
 It was hard to say whether it w^ere more dangerous 
 to stand still or to move. If the emigrant stood 
 still, he was consumed, by no slow degrees, by ex- 
 penses, if he moved, ten to one he went off in a 
 galloping consumption, by a ruinous investment. 
 Expenses then — necessary articles about three 
 times as high, and extra articles still more extra- 
 priced — were a different thing in the new country 
 from what they were in the old. In the old country, 
 a jolly Virginian, starting the business of free liv- 
 ing on a capital of a plantation and fifty or sixty 
 negroes, might reasonably calculate, if no ill luck 
 befell him, by the aid of a usurer and the occa- 
 sional sale of a negro or ^wo, to hold out without 
 
112 ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN LIFE. 
 
 declared insolvency until a green old age. His es- 
 tate melted like an estate in chancery, under the 
 gradual thaw of expenses ; but in this fast country 
 it went by the sheer cost of living, — some poker 
 losses included, — like the fortune of the confec- 
 tioner in California, who failed for one hundred 
 thousand dollars in the six months' keeping of a 
 candy-shop. But all the habits of his life, his taste, 
 his associations, his education, — everything ; the 
 trustingness of his disposition, his want of busi- 
 ness qualifications, his sanguine temper, all that 
 was Virginian in him, made him the prey, if not 
 of imposture, at least of unfortunate speculations. 
 Where the keenest jockey often was bit, what chance 
 had he ? About the same that the verdant Moses 
 had with the venerable old gentleman, his father's 
 friend, at the fair, when he traded the Vicar's pony 
 for the green spectacles. But how could he be- 
 lieve it .•* How co2ild he believe that that stuttering, 
 grammarless Georgian, who had never heard of the 
 resolutions of '98, could beat him in a land trade } 
 *' Have no money dealings with my father," said the 
 friendly Martha to Lord Nigel ; " for, idiot though 
 he seems, he will make an ass of thee." What a 
 pity some monitor, equally wise and equally success- 
 ful with old Trapbois' daughter, had not been at the 
 elbow of every Virginian ! " Twad frae monie a 
 blunder free'd him, an' foolish notion." 
 
 If he made a bad bargain, how could he expect to 
 get rid of it .'' He knew nothing of the elaborate 
 machinery of ingenious chicane, such as feigning 
 bankruptcy, fraudulent conveyances, making over to 
 his wife, running property ; and had never heard of 
 such tricks of trade as sending out coffins to the 
 
FLUSH TIMES. II3 
 
 graveyard, with negroes inside, carried off by sud- 
 den spells of imaginary disease, to be "resurrected" 
 in due time, grinning, on the banks of the Brazos. 
 
 The new philosophy, too, had commended itself 
 to his speculative temper. He readily caught at 
 the idea of a new spirit of the age having set in, 
 which rejected the saws of Poor Richard as being 
 as much out of date as his almanacs. He was al- 
 ready, by the great rise of property, compared to 
 his condition under the old-time prices, rich ; and 
 what were a few thousands of debt, which two or 
 three crops would pay off, compared to the value of 
 his estate } (He never thought that the value of 
 property might come down, while the debt was a 
 fixed fact.) He lived freely, for it was a liberal 
 time, and liberal fashions were in vogue, and it was 
 not for a Virginian to be behind others in hospital- 
 ity and liberality. He required credit and secur- 
 ity, and of course had to stand security in return. 
 When the crash came, and no ** accommodations" 
 could be had, except in a few instances, and in those 
 on the most ruinous terms, he fell an easy victim. 
 They broke by neighborhoods. They usually in- 
 dorsed for each other, and when one fell — like the 
 child's play of putting bricks on end at equal dis- 
 tances, and dropping the first in the line against the 
 second, which fell against the third, and so on to 
 the last — all fell ; each got broke as security, and 
 yet few or none were able to pay their own debts ! 
 So powerless of protection were they in those times 
 that the witty H. G. used to say they reminded him 
 of an oyster, both shells torn off, lying on the beach, 
 with the sea-gulls screaming over them ; the only 
 
 question being which should ** gobble them up." 
 
 8 
 
114 ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN LIFE. 
 
 There was one consolation : if the Virginian in- 
 volved himself like a fool, he suffered himself to be 
 sold out like a gentleman. When his card house of 
 visionary projects-came tumbling about his ears, the 
 next question was the one Webster plagiarized, 
 " Where am I to go ? " Those who had fathers, un- 
 cles, aunts, or other like dernier resorts in Virginia 
 limped back, with feathers moulted and crestfallen, 
 to the old stamping ground, carrying the returned 
 Californian's fortune of ten thousand dollars, — six 
 bits in money, and the balance in experience. Those 
 who were in the condition of the prodigal (barring 
 the father, the calf, — the fatted one I mean, — and 
 the fiddle) had to turn their accomplishments to ac- 
 count ; and many of them, having lost all by eating 
 and drinking, sought the retributive justice from 
 meat and drink, which might, at least, support them 
 in poverty. Accordingly, they kept tavern, and made 
 a barter of hospitality a business, the only disagree- 
 able part of which was receiving the money, and the 
 onl}^ one I know of for which a man can eat and 
 drink himself into qualification. And while I con- 
 fess I never knew a Virginian, out of the State, to 
 keep a bad tavern, I never knew one to draw a sol- 
 vent breath from the time he opened house until 
 death or the sheriff closed it. 
 
 Others, again, got to be not exactly overseers, but 
 some nameless thing, the duties of which were 
 nearly analogous, for some more fortunate Virginian, 
 who had escaped the wreck, and who had got his 
 former boon companion to live with him on board, 
 or other wages, in some such relation that the friend 
 was not often found at table at the dinings given to 
 the neighbors, and had got to be called Mr. Flour- 
 
FLUSH TIMES. II5 
 
 noy instead of Bob, and slept in an out-house in the 
 yard, and only read the ** Enquirer " of nights and 
 Sundays. 
 
 Some of the younger scions, that had been trans- 
 planted early, and stripped of their foliage at a ten- 
 der age, had been turned into birches for the cor- 
 rective discipline of youth. Yes ; many who had 
 received academical or collegiate educations, disre- 
 garding the allurements of the highway, turning 
 from the gala-day exercise of ditching, scorning 
 the effeminate relaxation of splitting rails, hero- 
 ically led the Forlorn Hope of the battle of life, the 
 corps of pedagogues of country schools, acadeinieSy 
 I beg pardon for not saying ; for, under the Virginia 
 economy, every cross-road log-cabin, where boys 
 w^ere flogged from B-a k-e-r to Constantinople, grew 
 into the dignity of a sort of runt college ; and the 
 teacher vainly endeavored to hide the meanness of 
 the calling beneath the sonorous sobriq2iet of Pro- 
 fessor. " Were there no w'ars } " Had all the 
 oysters been opened .'' Where was the regular army .'* 
 Could not interest procure service as a deck-hand 
 on a steamboat t Did no stage-driver, with a con- 
 tract for running at night through the prairies in 
 mid-winter, want help, at board wages, and sweet 
 lying in the loft, w^hen off duty, thrown in } What 
 right had the Dutch Jews to monopolize all the 
 peddling } *' To such vile uses may we come at 
 last, Horatio." The subject grows melancholy. I 
 had a friend on whom this catastrophe descended. 
 Tom Edmundson was a buck of the first head, -^ 
 gay, witty, dashing, vain, proud, handsome, and vola- 
 tile, and, withal, a dandy and lady's man to the last 
 intent in particular. He had graduated at the Uni- 
 
I 1 6 ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN LIFE. 
 
 versity, and had just settled with his guardian, and 
 received his patrimony of ten thousand dollars in 
 money. Being a young gentleman of enterprise, 
 he sought the alluring fields of Southwestern ad- 
 venture, and found them in this State. Before he 
 well knew the condition of his exchequer, he had 
 made a permanent investment of one half of his 
 fortune in cigars, champagne, trinkets, buggies, 
 horses, and current expenses, including some small 
 losses at poker, which game he patronized merely 
 for amusement ; and found that it diverted him a 
 good deal, but diverted his cash much more. He 
 invested the balance, on private information kindly 
 given him, in " CJioctazv Floats!' A most lucrative 
 investment it would have turned out, but for the 
 facts : (i) that the Indians never had any title ; 
 (2) the white men who kindly interposed to act as 
 guardians for the Indians did not have the Indian 
 title ; and (3) the land, left subject to entry, if the 
 *' Floats " had been good, was not worth entering. 
 *' These imperfections off its head," I know of no 
 fancy stock I would prefer to a " Choctaw Float." 
 " Brief, brave, and glorious " was " Tom's young 
 career." When Thomas found, as he did shortly, 
 that he had bought five thousand dollars' worth of 
 moonshine, and had no title to it, he honestly in- 
 formed his landlord of the state of his *'fiscality," 
 and that worthy kindly consented to take a new 
 buggy, at half price, in payment of the old balance. 
 The horse, a nick-tailed trotter, Tom had raffled off ; 
 but omitting to require cash, the process of collec- 
 tion resulted in his getting the price of one chance, 
 — the winner of the horse magnanimously paying 
 his subscription. The rest either had gambling off- 
 
FLUSH TIMES. \\1 
 
 sets, or else were not prepared just at any one par- 
 ticular given moment to pay up, though always 
 ready generally and in a general way. 
 
 Unlike his namesake, Tom and his landlady were 
 not — for a sufficient reason — very gracious; and 
 so, the only common bond, Tom's money, being gone, 
 Tom received " notice to quit " in regular form. 
 
 In the hurly-burly of the times, I had lost sight 
 of Tom for a considerable period. One day, as I 
 was traveling over the hills in Greene, by a cross- 
 road, leading me near a country mill, I stopped to 
 get water at a spring at the bottom of a hill. Clam- 
 bering up the hill, after remounting, on the other side, 
 the summit of it brought me to a view, through the 
 bushes, of a log country school-house, the door being 
 wide open ; and who did I see but Tom Edmund- 
 son, dressed as fine as ever, sitting back in an arm- 
 chair, one thumb in his waistcoat armhole, the other 
 hand brandishing a long switch, or rather pole. As 
 I approached a little nearer, I heard him speak 
 out : " Sir, Thomas Jefferson, of Virginia, was the 
 author of the Declaration of Independence, — mind 
 that. I thought everybody knew that, even the 
 Georgians." Just then he saw me coming through 
 the bushes and entering the path that led by the 
 door. Suddenly he broke from the chair of state, 
 and the door was slammed to, and I heard some one 
 of the boys, as I passed the door, say, ''Tell him 
 he can't come in ; the master 's sick." This is the 
 last I ever saw of Tom. I understand he afterwards 
 moved to Louisiana, where he married a rich French 
 widow, having first, however, to fight a duel with 
 one of her sons, whose opposition could n't be ap- 
 peased until some such expiatory sacrifice to the 
 
Il8 ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN LIFE. 
 
 manes of his worthy father was attempted ; whicb 
 failing, he made rather a lame apology for his zeal- 
 ous indiscretion, — the poor fellow could make no 
 other, for Tom had unfortunately fixed him for 
 visiting his mother on crutches the balance of his 
 life. 
 
 One thing I will say for the Virginians : I never 
 knew one of them, under any pressure, extemporize 
 a profession. The sentiment of reverence for the 
 mysteries of medicine and law was too large for a 
 deliberate quackery ; as to the pulpit, a man might 
 as well do his starving without the hypocrisy. 
 
 But others were not so nice. I have known them 
 to rush, when the wolf was after them, from the 
 counting-house or the plantation into a doctor's 
 shop or a law office, as if those places were the 
 sanctuaries from the avenger ; some pretending to 
 be doctors that did not know a liver from a gizzard, 
 administering medicine by the guess, without know- 
 ing enough of pharmacy to tell whether the stuff ex- 
 hibited in the big-bellied blue, red, and green bottles 
 at the show-windows of the apothecaries' shops was 
 given by the drop or the half pint. 
 
 Divers others left, but what became of them I 
 never knew, any more than they know what becomes 
 of the sora after frost. 
 
 Many were the instances of suffering ; of pitiable 
 misfortune, involving and crushing whole families ; 
 of pride abased ; of honorable sensibilities wounded ; 
 of the provision for old age destroyed ; of the h(5pes 
 of manhood overcast ; of independence dissipated, 
 and the poor victim, without help, or hope, or sym- 
 pathy, forced to petty shifts for a bare subsistence, 
 and a ground-scuffle for what in happier days he 
 
FLUSH TIMES. Iia 
 
 threw away. But there were too many examples of 
 this sort for the expenditure of a useless compas- 
 sion ; just as the surgeon, after a battle, grows case- 
 hardened, from an excess of objects of pity. 
 
 My memory, however, fixes itself on one honored 
 exception, the noblest of the noble, the best of the 
 good. Old Major Willis Wormley had come in long 
 before the new era. He belonged to the old school 
 of Virginians. Nothing could have torn him from 
 the Virginia he loved, as Jacopi Foscari, Venice, but 
 the marrying of his eldest daughter, Mary, to a gen- 
 tleman of Alabama. The Major was something be- 
 tween, or made of about equal parts of, Uncle Toby 
 and Mr. Pickwick, with a sUght flavor of Mr. Micaw- 
 ber. He was the soul of kindness, disinterestedness, 
 and hospitality. Love to everything that had life 
 in it burned like a flame in his large and benignant 
 soul ; it flowed over in his countenance, and glowed 
 through every feature, and moved every muscle in 
 the frame it animated. The Major lived freely, was 
 rather corpulent, and had not a lean thing on his 
 plantations ; the negroes, the dogs, the horses, the 
 cattle, the very chickens, wore an air of corpulent 
 complacency, and bustled about with a good-humored 
 rotundity. There was more laughing, singing, and 
 whistling at '* Hollywood " than would have set up a 
 dozen Irish fairs. The Major's wife had, from a long 
 life of affection, and the practice of the same pur- 
 suits, and the indulgence of the same feelings and 
 tastes, got so much like him that she seemed a fem- 
 inine and modest edition of himself. Four daugh- 
 ters were all that remained in the family, — two had 
 been married off, — and they had no son. The girls 
 ranged from sixteen to twenty-two, — fine, hearty,. 
 
120 ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN LIFE. 
 
 whole-souled, wholesome, cheerful lasses, with con 
 stitutions to last, and a flow of spirits like mountain 
 springs ; not beauties, but good housewife girls, 
 whose open countenances and neat figures and rosy 
 cheeks and laughing eyes and frank and cordial 
 manners made them, at home, abroad, on horseback 
 or on foot, at the piano or discoursing on the old 
 English books or Washington Irving's Sketch Book, 
 — a favorite in the family ever since it was written, — 
 as entertaining and as well calculated to fix solid im- 
 pressions on the heart as any four girls in the coun- 
 try. The only difficulty was they were so much 
 alike that you were put to fault which to fall in love 
 with. They were all good housewives, or women, 
 rather. But Mrs. Wormley, or Aunt Wormley, as 
 we called her, was as far ahead of any other woman 
 in that way, as could be found this side of the Vir- 
 ginia border. If there was anything good in the 
 culinary line that she could n't make, I should like 
 to know it. The Major lived on the main stage-road, 
 and if any decently dressed man ever passed the 
 house after sundown he escaped by sheer accident. 
 The house was greatly visited. The Major knew 
 everybody, and everybody near him knew the Major. 
 The stage-coach could n't stop long, but in the hot 
 summer days, about noon, as the driver tooted his 
 horn at the top of the red hill, two negro boys stood 
 opposite the door, with trays of the finest fruit and 
 a pitcher of cider for the refreshment of the way- 
 farers ; the Major himself being on the lookout, 
 with his hands over his eyes, bowing — as he only 
 could bow — vaguely into the coach, and looking 
 wistfully to find among the passengers an acquaint- 
 ance whom he could prevail upon to get out and stay 
 
FLUSH TIMES. 121 
 
 a week with him. There was n't a poor neighbor to 
 whom the Major had not been as good as an insurer, 
 without premium, for his stock, or for his crop ; and 
 from the way he rendered the service, you would 
 think he was the party obhged, — as he was. 
 
 This is not, in any country I have ever been in, a 
 money-making business ; and the Major, though he 
 always made good crops, must have broke at it long 
 ago, but for the fortunate death of a few aunts, after 
 whom the girls were named, who, paying their sev- 
 eral debts of nature, left the Major the means to pay 
 his less serious but still weighty obligations. 
 
 The Major, for a wonder, being a Virginian, had 
 no partisan politics. He could not have. His heart 
 could not hold anything that implied a warfare upon 
 the thoughts or feelings of others. He voted all 
 the time forliis friend, that is, the candidate Hving 
 nearest to him ; regretting, generally, that he did 
 not have another vote for the other man. 
 
 It would have done a Camanche Indian's heart 
 good to see all the family together — grandchildren 
 and all — of a winter evening, with a guest or two 
 to excite sociability a little ; not company enough 
 to embarrass the manifestations of affection. Such 
 a concordance, as if all hearts were attuned to the 
 same feeling : the old lady knitting in the corner, 
 the old man smoking his pipe opposite ; both of 
 their fine faces radiating, in the pauses of the laugh, 
 the jest, or the caress, the infinite satisfaction 
 within. 
 
 It was enough to convert an abolitionist to see 
 the old Major, when he came home from a long 
 journey of two days to the county town, — the ne- 
 groes running in a string to the buggy, this one ta 
 
122 ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN LIFE. 
 
 hold the horse, that one to help the old man out, 
 and the others to inquire how he was ; and to ob- 
 serve the benignity with which — the kissing of the 
 girls and the old lady hardly over — he distributed 
 a piece of calico here, a plug of tobacco there, or 
 a card of town gingerbread to the little snow-balls 
 that grinned around him : what was given being but 
 a small part of the gift, divested of the kind, cheer- 
 ful, rollicking way the old fellow had of giving it. 
 
 The Major had given out his autograph (as had 
 almost everybody else) as indorser on three several 
 bills of exchange, of even tenor and dale, and all 
 maturing at or about the same time. His friend's 
 friend failed to pay as he or his firm agreed, the 
 friend himself did no better, and the Major, before 
 he knew anything at all of his danger, found a writ 
 served upon him, and was told by his friend that he 
 was dead broke, and all he could give him was his 
 sympathy ; the which the Major as gratefully re- 
 ceived as if it was a legal tender, and would pay the 
 debt. The Major's friends advised him he could get 
 clear of it ; that notice of protest not having been 
 sent to the Major's post-ofifice released him. But 
 the Major would n't hear of such a defense ; he said 
 his understanding was that he was to pay the debt, 
 if his friend did n't ; and to slip out of it by a quib- 
 ble was little better than pleading the gambling act. 
 Besides, what would the lawyers say ? And what 
 would be said by his old friends in Virginia, when it 
 reached their ears that he had plead want of notice 
 to get clear of a debt, when everybody knew it was 
 the same thing as if he had got notice ? And if this 
 defense were good at law, it would not be in equity ; 
 g.nd if they took it into chancery, it mattered not 
 
FLUSH TIMES. I2j 
 
 what became of the case ; the property would all go, 
 and he never could expect to see the last of it. No, 
 no ; he would pay it, and had as well set about it at 
 once. 
 
 The rumor of the Major's condition spread far 
 and wide. It reached old N. D., "an angel," whom 
 the Major had " entertained," and one of the few 
 that ever traveled that road. He came, post haste, 
 to see into the affair ; saw the creditor ; made him, 
 upon threat of defense, agree to take half the amount, 
 and discharge the Major ; advanced the money, and 
 took the Major's negroes, except the house ser- 
 vants, and put them on his Mississippi plantation 
 to work out the debt. 
 
 The Major's heart pained him at the thought of 
 the negroes going off ; he could n't witness it, though 
 he consoled himself with the idea of the discipline 
 and exercise being good for the health of sundry of 
 them who had contracted sedentary diseases. 
 
 The Major turned his house into a tavern, — that 
 is, changed its name, — put up a sign, and three 
 weeks afterwards you could n't have told that any- 
 thing had happened. The family were as happy as 
 ever : the Major, never having put on airs of arro- 
 gance in prosperity, felt no humiliation in adversity ; 
 the girls were as cheerful, as bustling, and as light- 
 hearted as ever, and seemed to think of the duties 
 of hostesses as mere bagatelles, to enliven the time. 
 The old Major was as profluent of anecdotes as ever, 
 and never grew tired of telling the same ones to 
 every new guest ; and yet the Major's anecdotes 
 were all of Virginia growth, and not one of them 
 under the legal age of twenty-one. If the Major 
 had worked his negroes as he had those anecdotes, 
 
124 ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN- LIFE. 
 
 he would have been able to pay off the bills of ex- 
 change without any difficulty. 
 
 The old lady and the girls laughed at the anec- 
 dotes, though they must have heard them at least a 
 thousand times, and knew them by heart, for the 
 Major told them without the variations ; and the 
 other friends of the Major laughed, too. Indeed, with 
 such an air of thorough benevolence, and in such a 
 truly social spirit, did the old fellow proceed ** the 
 tale to unfold," that a Cassius - like rascal that 
 would n't laugh, whether he saw anything to laugh 
 at or not, ought to have been sent to the peniten- 
 tiary for life, — half of the time to be spent in soli- 
 tary confinement. 
 
 II. 
 
 ASSAULT AND BATTERY. 
 
 A trial came off, not precisely in our bailiwick, 
 but in the neighborhood, of great comic interest. 
 It was really a case of a good deal of aggravation, 
 and the defendants, fearing the result, employed 
 four of the ablest lawyers practicing at the M. bar 
 to defend them. The offense charged was only as- 
 sault and battery ; but the evidence showed a con- 
 spiracy to inflict great violence on the person of the 
 prosecutor, who had done nothing to provoke it, and 
 that the attempt to effect it was followed by severe 
 injury to him. The prosecutor was an original. He 
 had been an old-field school-master, and was as con- 
 ceited and pedantic a fellow as could be found in 
 a summer's day, even in that profession. It was 
 thought the policy of the defense to make as light 
 of the case as possible, and to cast as much ridicule 
 
FLUSH TIMES. 1 25 
 
 on the affair as they could. J. E. and W. M. led 
 the defense, and, although the talents of the former 
 were rather adapted to grave discussion than pleas- 
 antry, he agreed to doff his heavy armor for the 
 lighter weapons of w^t and ridicule. M. was in his 
 element. He was at all times and on all occasions 
 at home when fun w^as to be raised : the difficulty 
 with him was rather to restrain than to create mirth 
 and laughter. The case was called and put to the 
 jury. The witness, one Burwell Shines, w^as called 
 for the prosecution. A broad grin was upon the 
 faces of the counsel for the defense as he came for- 
 ward. It was increased when the clerk said, '' Bur- 
 rell Shines, come to the book ; " and the witness, 
 with deliberate emphasis, remarked, " My Christian 
 name is not Biirrell, but Bw'well, though I am vul- 
 garly denominated by the former epithet." "Well," 
 said the clerk, " '^wx-well Shines, come to the book, 
 and be sw^orn." He was sworn, and directed to take 
 the stand. He w^as a picture ! 
 
 He was dressed with care. His toilet was elab- 
 orate and befitting the magnitude and dignity of the 
 occasion, the part he was to fill, and the high pres- 
 ence into which he had come. He was evidently 
 favorably impressed with his own personal pulchri- 
 tude ; yet with an air of modest deprecation, as if he 
 said by his manner, "After all, \vhat is beauty, that 
 man should be proud of it ; and what are fine clothes, 
 that the wearers should put themselves above the 
 unfortunate mortals who have them not .-^ " 
 
 He advanced with deliberate gravity to the stand. 
 There he stood, his large bell-crowned hat, with 
 nankeen-colored nap an inch long, in his hand ; 
 vvhich hat he carefully handed over the bar to the 
 
126 ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN LIFE. 
 
 clerk to hold until he should get through his testi- 
 mony. He wore a blue single-breasted coat with 
 new brass buttons, a vest of bluish calico, nankeen 
 pants that struggled to make both ends meet, but 
 failed, by a few inches, in the legs, yet made up for 
 it by fitting a little better than the skin everywhere 
 else. His head stood upon a shirt collar that held 
 it up by the ears, and a cravat, something smaller 
 than a table-cloth, bandaged his throat ; his face 
 was narrow, long, and grave, with an indescribable 
 air of ponderous wisdom, which, as Fox said of 
 Thurlow, "proved him necessarily a hypocrite; as 
 it was iijipossible for any man to be as wise as Jie 
 looked." Gravity and decorum marked every linea- 
 ment of his countenance and every line of his body. 
 All the wit of Hudibras could not have moved a 
 muscle of his face. His conscience would have 
 smitten him for a lau2:h almost as soon as for an 
 oath. His hair was roached up, and stood as erect 
 and upright as his body ; and his voice was slow, 
 deep, in ''linked sweetness long drawn out," and 
 modulated according to the camp-meeting standard 
 of elocution. Three such men at a country frolic 
 would have turned an old Virginia reel into a dead 
 march. He was one of Carlyle's earnest men. 
 Cromwell would have made him ensign of the Iron- 
 sides, and ex-officio chaplain at first sight. He took 
 out his pocket-handkerchief, slowly unfolded it from 
 the shape in which it came from the washerwom- 
 an's, and awaited the interrogation. As he waited, 
 he spat on the floor, and nicely wiped it out with 
 his foot. The solicitor told him to tell about the 
 difficulty in hand. He gazed around on the court, 
 hen on the bar, then on the jury, then on the 
 
FLUSH TIMES. 12/ 
 
 crowd, addressing each respectively as he turned : 
 " May it please your honor, gentlemen of the bar, 
 gentlemen of the jury, audience : Before proceeding 
 to give my testimonial observations, I must premise 
 that I am a member of the Methodist Episcopal, 
 otherwise called Wesleyan, persuasion of Christian 
 individuals. One bright Sabbath morning in May, 
 the 15th day of the month, the past year, while the 
 birds were singing their matutinal songs from the 
 trees, I sallied forth from the dormitory of my sem- 
 inary to enjoy the reflections so well suited to that 
 auspicious occasion. I had not proceeded far be- 
 fore my ears were accosted with certain Baccha- 
 nalian sounds of revelry, which proceeded from one 
 of those haunts of vicious depravity located at the 
 cross-roads, near the place of my boyhood, and 
 fashionably denominated a doggery. No sooner 
 had I passed beyond the precincts of this diabolical 
 rendezvous of rioting debauchees, than I heard be- 
 hind me the sounds of approaching footsteps, as if 
 in pursuit. Having heard previously sundry men- 
 aces, which had been made by these preposterous 
 and incarnadine individuals of hell, now on trial in 
 prospect of condign punishment, fulminated against 
 the longer continuance of my corporeal salubrity, 
 for no better reason than that I reprobated their 
 criminal orgies, and not wishing my reflections to 
 be disturbed, I hurried my steps with a gradual ac- 
 celerated motion. Hearing, however, their con- 
 tinued advance, and the repeated shoutings, articu- 
 lating the murderous accents, ' Kill him ! Kill 
 Shadbelly, with his praying clothes on ! ' (which was 
 a profane designation of myself and my religious 
 profession), and casting my head over my left 
 
128 ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN LIFE. 
 
 shoulder in a manner somehow reluctantly, thus, 
 [throwing his head to one side], and perceiving their 
 near approximation, I augmented my speed into 
 what might be denominated a gentle slope, and 
 subsequently augmented the same into a species of 
 dog-trot. But all would not do. Gentlemen, the 
 destroyer came. As I reached the fence, and was 
 about propelling my body over the same, felicitating 
 myself on my prospect of escape from my remorse- 
 less pursuers, they arrived, and James William 
 Jones, called, by nickname, Buck Jones, that red- 
 headed character now at the bar of this honorable 
 court, seized a fence rail, grasped it in both hands, 
 and, standing on tip-toe, hurled the same, with 
 mighty emphasis, against my cerebellum, which 
 blow felled me to the earth. Straightway, like ig- 
 noble curs upon a disabled lion, these bandit ruffians 
 and incarnadine assassins leaped upon me, some 
 pelting, some bruising, some gouging, — 'everything 
 by turns, and nothing long,' as the poet hath it ; 
 and one of them, — which one unknown to me, hav- 
 ing no eyes behind — inflicted with his teeth a griev- 
 ous wound upon my person ; where, I need not 
 specify. At length, when thus prostrate on the 
 ground, one of those bright ideas, common to minds 
 of men of genius, struck me. I forthwith sprang 
 to my feet, drew forth my cutto, circulated the same 
 with much vivacity among their several and respec- 
 tive corporeal systems, and every time I circulated 
 the same I felt their iron grasp relax. As cowardly 
 recreants, even to their own guilty friendships, two 
 of these miscreants, though but slightly perforated 
 by my cutto, fled, leaving the other two, whom I 
 had disabled by the vigor and energy of my incis- 
 
FLUSH TIMES. 1 29 
 
 ions, prostrate and in my power. These lustily 
 called for quarter, shouting out * Enough ! ' or, in 
 their barbarous dialect, being as corrupt in language 
 as in morals, * Nuff ! ' which quarter I magnani- 
 mously extended them, as unworthy of my farther 
 vengeance, and fit only as subject of penal infliction 
 at the hands of the offended laws of their country, 
 to which laws I do now consign them, hoping such 
 mercy for them as their crimes will permit ; which, 
 in my judgment (having read the code), is not 
 much. This is my statement on oath, fully and 
 truly, nothing extenuating and naught setting down 
 in malice ; and if I have omitted anything, in form 
 or substance, I stand ready to supply the omission ; 
 and if I have stated anything amiss, I will cheer- 
 fully correct the same, limiting the averment, with 
 appropriate modifications, provisions, and restric- 
 tions. The learned counsel may now proceed more 
 particularly to interrogate me of and respecting the 
 premises." 
 
 After this oration, Burwell wiped the perspiration 
 from his brow, and the counsel for the state took 
 him. Few questions were asked him, however, by 
 that official, he confining himself to a recapitulation 
 in simple terms, of what the witness had declared, 
 and procuring Burwell's assent to his translation. 
 Long and searching was the cross-examination by 
 the defendant's counsel ; but it elicited nothing fa- 
 vorable to the defense, and nothing shaking, but 
 much to confirm, Burwell's statement. 
 
 After some other evidence, the examination closed, 
 and the argument to the jury commenced. The 
 solicitor very briefly adverted to the leading facts, 
 deprecated any attempt to turn the case into ridi- 
 
 9 
 
130 ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN LIFE. 
 
 cule, admitted that the witness was a man of ec- 
 centricity and pedantry, but harmless and inoffensive; 
 a man, evidently, of conscientiousness and respecta- 
 bility ; that he had shown himself to be a peaceable 
 man, but when occasion demanded, a brave man ; 
 that there was a conspiracy to assassinate him upon 
 no cause except an independence, which was hon- 
 orable to him, and an attempt to execute the pur- 
 pose, in pursuance of previous threats, and severe 
 injury by several confederates on a single person, 
 and this on the Sabbath, and when he was seeking 
 to avoid them. 
 
 W. M. rose to reply. All Screamersville turned 
 out to hear him. William was a great favorite, — 
 the most popular speaker in the country, — had the 
 versatility of a mocking-bird, an aptitude for bur- 
 lesque that would have given him celebrity as a 
 dramatist, and a power of acting that would have 
 made his fortune on the boards of a theatre. A 
 rich treat was expected, but it did n't come. The 
 witness had taken all the wind out of William's 
 sails. He had rendered burlesque impossible. The 
 thing as acted was more ludicrous than it could be 
 as described. The crowd had laughed themselves 
 hoarse already ; and even M.'s comic powers seemed, 
 and were felt by himself, to be humble imitations of 
 a greater master. For once in his life M. dragged 
 his subject heavily along. The matter began to 
 grow serious, — fun failed to come when M. called 
 it up. M. closed between a lame argument, a timid 
 deprecation, and some only tolerable humor. He 
 was followed by E., in a discursive, argumentative, 
 sarcastic, drag-net sort of speech, which did all that 
 could be done for the defense. The solicitor briefly 
 
FLUSH TIMES. I31 
 
 closed, seriously and confidently confining himself 
 to a repetition of the matters first insisted, and an- 
 swering some of the points of the counsel. 
 
 It was an ominous fact that a juror, before the 
 jury retired, under leave of the court, recalled a 
 witness for the purpose of putting a question to 
 him : the question was how much the defendants 
 were worth ; the answer was, about two thousand 
 dollars. 
 
 The jury shortly after returned into court with a 
 verdict which " sized their pile." 
 
 III. 
 
 SHARP FINANCIERING. 
 
 In the times of 1836 there dwelt in the pleasant 
 
 town of T , a smooth, oily-mannered gentleman, 
 
 who diversified a commonplace pursuit by some ex- 
 citing episodes of finance, — ^ dealing occasionally 
 in exchange, buying and selling uncurrent money, 
 etc. We will suppose this gentleman's name to be 
 Thompson. It happened that a Mr. Ripley of North 
 
 CaroUna was in T . Having some $i,2Cmd in 
 
 North Carolina money, and desiring to return to 
 the old North State with his funds, not wishing to 
 encounter the risk of robbery through the Creek 
 country, in which there were rumors of hostilities 
 between the whites and the Indians, he bethought 
 him of buying exchange on Raleigh, as the safest 
 mode of transmitting his money. On inquiry, he 
 was referred to Mr. Thompson, as the only person 
 dealing in exchange in that place. He called on 
 Mr. Thompson and made known his wishes. With 
 
132 ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN LIFE. 
 
 his characteristic politeness, Mr. Thompson agreed 
 to accommodate him with a sight bill on his corre- 
 spondent in Raleigh, charging him the moderate 
 premium of five per cent, for it. Mr. Thompson 
 retired into his counting-room, and in a few minutes 
 returned with the bill and a letter, which he deliv- 
 ered to Mr. Ripley, at the same time receiving the 
 money from that gentleman plus the exchange. As 
 the interlocutors were exchanging valedictory com- 
 pliments, it occurred to Mr. Thompson that it would 
 be a favor to him if Mr. Ripley would be so kind as 
 to convey to Mr. Thompson's correspondent a pack- 
 age he was desirous of sending, which request Mr. 
 Ripley assured Mr. Thompson it would afford him 
 great pleasure to comply with. Mr. Thompson then 
 handed Mr. Ripley a package, strongly enveloped 
 and sealed, addressed to the Raleigh banker, after 
 which the gentlemen parted with many polite ex- 
 pressions of regard and civility. 
 
 Arriving, without 'any accident G.' hindrance, at 
 Raleigh, Mr. Ripley's first care was to call on the 
 banker and present his documents. He found him 
 at his ofifice, presented the bill and letter to him, 
 and requested payment of the former. " That," 
 said the banker, " will depend a good deal upon the 
 contents of the package." Opening which, Mr. 
 Ripley found the identical bills, minus the premium, 
 he had paid Mr. Thompson for his bill ; and which 
 the banker paid over to that gentleman, w^ho was 
 not a little surprised to find that the expert Mr. 
 Thompson had charged him five per cent, for carry'- 
 ing his own money to Raleigh, to avoid the risk and 
 trouble of which he had bought the exchange. 
 
 Thompson used to remark that that was the safest 
 
FLUSH TIMES. 1 33 
 
 operation, all around, he ever knew. He had got 
 his exchange, the buyer had got his bill, and the 
 money, too, and the drawee was fully protected I 
 There was profit without outlay or risk 
 
MAJOR JONES'S COURTSHIP. 
 
 In *' Simon Suggs " we have the vulgarian of the South " done/' 
 to use his own elegant phraseology, " to a cracklin'." In the amus- 
 ing, amatory adventures of Major Joseph Jones, the reverse side of 
 the picture — homely, not to say rough, but clean — is given us. Here 
 there is nothing equivocal or coarse ; not so much as the suspicion of 
 a double entente. 
 
 The " Major " is a simple, yet shrewd, straightforward, honest 
 Georgia lad, whose migrations have been for the most part from the 
 blue bud to the brown. He loves Mary Stallins, and Mary loves him. 
 The "old people " favor the match. The young people conspire to 
 bring it about. There is positively no obstruction, no plot, and no 
 villain. But, by a grotesque humor and rustic narrative, composed of 
 ingredients of the most transparent and unambitious .description, the 
 author contrives to maintain the interest of the reader throuorhout. 
 In representative quality, both as to its dramatis personte and its 
 dialect, the story is genuinely racy of the soil. It is distinctively 
 Southern and provincial. If no names were mentioned, its locale could 
 not be mistaken. Its scenes might possibly be laid in Tennessee or 
 Alabama, but not in Virginia or Mississippi. 
 
 In truth, there are divergencies between South Carolina and Ken- 
 tucky, for example, as great as there are between Maine and Texas. 
 Nothing could be more whimsical than the attempt to draw a myth- 
 ical line across the country, parceling off on the one hand and the 
 other certain peculiar and antagonistic characteristics. The diversi- 
 ties of habit and speech which mark our people cannot be so classi- 
 fied, but are to be sought under conditions which the geography does 
 not affect. The most influential and popular Mississippian who ever 
 lived was born and raised in New England ; and the most representa- 
 tive citizen of Maine, at the present time, born and educated in Penn- 
 sylvania, never saw New England until he was three or four and 
 twenty, and carried thither with him many of the idiosyncratic feat- 
 ures of the typical Kentuckian. 
 
 But Major Jones is a Georgian. He is well to do, and he knows 
 a thing or two, albeit his education in "grammer" and " retorick " 
 
MAJOR JONES'S COURTSHIP. 135 
 
 has been neglected. His character, like his diction, is homespun. 
 He is a thorough rustic, and belongs to a class which is still very large 
 in the interior of the South. 
 
 [The author of this typical creation, Colonel W. T. Thompson, 
 liveH and died an editor in Georgia. He was a man of singular mod- 
 esty, but a good scholar, a close observer, and, at times, a trenchant 
 controversialist. He passed away at a ripe old age in Savannah, in 
 the early part of 1882. 
 
 I. 
 
 THE MAJOR TAKES A CHEW OF TOBACCO. 
 
 You know the Stallinses lives on the plantation in 
 the summer, and goes to town in the winter. Well, 
 Miss Mary Stallins, who, you know, is the darlinest 
 gall in the county, come home tother day to see her 
 folks. You know she 's been to the Female College, 
 down to Macon, for most a year now. Before she 
 went, she used to be jest as plain as a old shoe, and 
 used to go fishin' and huckleberryin' with us, with 
 nothin' but a calico sun-bonnet on, and was the 
 wildest thing you ever seed. Well, I always used 
 to have a sort of a sneakin' notion after Mary Stal- 
 lins, and so, when she come, I brushed up, and was 
 'termined to have a right serious talk with her about 
 old m.atters ; not knowin' but she mought be cap- 
 tivated by some of them Macon fellers. 
 
 So, shure enough, off I started, unbeknowin' to 
 anybody, and rode right over to the plantation. (You 
 know ours is right jinin' the widder Stallinses.) 
 Well, when I got thar, I felt a little sort o' sheepish ; 
 but I soon got over that, when Miss Carline said 
 (but she did n't mean me to har her), '* There, Pinny" 
 (that's Miss Mary's nick-name, you know), "there's 
 your bow come." 
 
 Miss Mary looked mighty sort o' redish when I 
 
136 ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN LIFE. 
 
 shuck her hand and told her howdy ; and she made 
 a sort of stoop over and a dodge back, hke the Httle 
 galls does to the school-marm, and said, " Good-even- 
 in', Mr. Jones." (She used to always call me jest Joe.) 
 
 " Take a chair, Joseph," said Miss Carline ; and 
 we sot down in the parlor, and I begun talkin' to 
 Miss Mary about Macon, and the long ride she had, 
 and the bad roads, and the monstrous hot weather, 
 and the like. 
 
 She did n't say much, but was in a mighty good 
 humor, and laughed a heap. I told her I never seed 
 sich a change in anybody. Nor I never did. Why, 
 she did n't look like the same gall. Good gracious ! 
 she looked so nice and trim, — jest like some of them 
 pictures what they have in ''Appletons' Journal," — 
 with her hair all komed down longside of her face, 
 as slick and shiny as a mahogany burow. When she 
 laughed she did n't open her mouth like she used to ; 
 and she sot up straight and still in her chair, and 
 looked so different, but so monstrous pretty ! I ax'd 
 her a heap of questions, about how she liked Macon 
 and the Female College, and so forth ; and she told 
 me a heap about 'em. But old Miss Stallins and 
 Miss Carline and Miss Kesiah, and all of 'em, kep 
 all the time interruptin' us, axin' about mother, — if 
 she was well, and if she was gwine to the Spring 
 church next Sunday, and what luck she had with her 
 soap, and all sich stuff, — and I do believe I told the 
 old woman more 'n twenty times that mother 's old 
 turky-hen was settin' on fourteen eggs. 
 
 Well, I was n't to be backed out that-a-way ; so I 
 kep it a-goin' the best I could, till bimeby old Miss 
 Stallins let her knitin' drap three or four times, and 
 then begun to nod. 
 
MAJOR JONES'S COURTSHIP. 137 
 
 I seed the galls lookin' at one another and pinch- 
 in' one another's elbows, and Miss Mary said she 
 wondered what time it was, and said the college 
 disciplines, or something like that, did n't low late 
 hours. I seed how the game was gwine ; but how- 
 sumever, I kep talkin' to her like a cotton gin in 
 packin' time, as hard as I could clip it, till bimeby 
 the old lady went to bed, and after a bit the galls all 
 cleared, and left Miss Mary to herself. That was 
 jest the thing I wanted. 
 
 Well, she sot on one side of the fire-place, and 
 I sot on tother, so I could spit on the hath, whar 
 ther was nothin' but a lighterd chunk burnin' to 
 give light. Well, we talked and talked, and I know 
 you would like to hear all we talked about, but that 
 would be too long. When I 'm very interested in 
 anything, or git bother'd about anything, I can't help 
 chawin' a heap of tobacker, and then I spits uncon- 
 tionable, specially if I 'm talkin'. Well, we sot thar 
 and talked, and the way I spit was larmin' to the 
 crickets ! I axed Miss Mary if she had any bows 
 down to Macon. 
 
 " Oh, yes," she said ; and then she went on and 
 named over Matthew Matix, Nat. Filosofy, Al. 
 Geber, Retric Stronomy, and a whole heap of fel- 
 lers, that she 'd been keepin' company with most all 
 her time. 
 
 " Well," ses I, ** I spose they 're mazin' poplar 
 with you, ain't they. Miss Mary .? " for I felt mighty 
 oneasy, and begun to spit a good deal worse. 
 
 " Yes," ses she, " they 're the most interestin* 
 companions I ever had, and I am anxious to resume 
 their pleasant society." 
 
 I tell you what, that sort o' stumped me, and I 
 
138 ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN LIFE. 
 
 spit right slap on the chunk and made it " flicker 
 and flare " like the mischief. It was a good thing it 
 did, for I blushed as blue as a Ginny squash. 
 
 I turned my tobacker round in my mouth, and 
 spit two or three times, and the old chunk kep up a 
 most bominable fryin'. 
 
 ** Then I spose your gwine to forgit old acquaint- 
 ances," ses I, ** sense you 's been to Macon, among 
 them lawyers and doctors, is you, Miss Mary .<* You 
 thinks more of them than you does of anybody else, 
 I spose." 
 
 " Oh," ses she, " I am devoted to them. I think 
 of them day and night ! " 
 
 That was too much ; it shot me right up, and I 
 sot as still as could be for more 'n a minute. I never 
 felt so warm behind the ears afore in all my life. 
 Thunder ! how my blood did bile up all over me ! 
 and I felt like I could knock Matthew Matix into a 
 grease-spot, if he 'd only been thar. 
 
 Miss Mary sot with her handkercher up to her 
 face, and I looked straight into the fire-place. The 
 blue blazes was runnin' round over the old chunk, 
 ketchin' hold here and lettin' go thar, sometimes 
 gwine most out, and then blazin' up a little. I could 
 n't speak. I was makin' up my mind for tellin' her 
 the sitewation of my hart. I was jest gwine to tell 
 her my feelins, but my mouth was chock full of to- 
 backer, so I had to spit — and slap it went, right on 
 the light-wood chunk, and out it went, spang ! 
 
 I swar, I never did feel so tuck aback in all my 
 born days. I did n't know what to do. 
 
 " My Lord, Miss Mary," ses I, " I did n't go to do 
 it. Jest tell me the way to the kitchen, and I '11 go 
 and git a light." 
 
MAJOR JONES'S COURTSHIP. 139 
 
 But she never said nothin', so I sot down agin, 
 thinkin' she 'd gone to git one herself, for it was 
 pitch dark, and I could n't see my hand afore my 
 face. 
 
 Well, I sot thar and ruminated, and waited a long 
 time, but she did n't come ; so I begun to think 
 may be she was n't gone. I could n't hear nothin' 
 nor I could n't see nothin' ; so bimeby ses I, very 
 low, for I did n't want to wake up the family, — ses I, 
 
 " Miss Mary ! Miss Mary ! " But nobody an- 
 sw^ered. 
 
 Thinks I, What 's to be done } I tried agin. 
 
 ** Miss Mary ! Miss Mary ! " ses I. But it was no 
 use. 
 
 Then I heard the galls snickerin' and laughin' in 
 the next room, and I begun to see how it was : Miss 
 Mary was gone, and left me thar alone. 
 
 " Whar 's my hat t " ses I, pretty loud, so some- 
 body mought tell me. But they only laughed worse. 
 
 I begun to feel about the room, and the first thing 
 I know'd, spang ! goes my head agin the edge of 
 the pantry dore, what was standin' open. The fire 
 flew, and I could n't help but swar a little. " D — n 
 the dore," ses I, " whar 's my hat .'' " But nobody 
 said nothin', and I went gropin' about in the dark, 
 feelin' round to find some way out, when I put my 
 hand on the dore knob. All right, thinks I, as I 
 pushed the dore open quick. . . . Ther was a scream ! 
 — heads popped under the bed kiver quicker'n 
 lightnin' — something white fluttered by the burow, 
 and out went the candle. I was in the galls' room ! 
 But there was no time for apologisin', even if they 
 could stopped squealin' long enough to hear me. I 
 crawfished out of that place monstrous quick, you 
 
140 ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN LIFE. 
 
 may depend. Had n't I went and gone and done 
 it, sure enough ! I know'd my cake was all dough 
 then, and I jest determined to git out of them dig- 
 gins soon as possible, and never mind about my hat. 
 
 Well, I got through the parlor dore, after rakin 
 my shins three or four times agin the chairs, and 
 was feehn' along through the entry for the front 
 dore ; but somehow I was so flustrated that I tuck 
 the wrong way, and bimeby kerslash I went, right 
 over old Miss Stallinses spinnin'-wheel, onto the 
 floor ! I hurt myself a good deal ; but that did n't 
 make me half so mad as to hear them confounded 
 galls a gigglin' and laughin' at me. 
 
 " Oh," said one of 'em (it was Miss Kesiah, for 
 I knowed her voice), " there goes mother 's wheel ! 
 my Lord ! " 
 
 I tried to set the cussed thing up agin, but it 
 seemed to have more 'n twenty legs, and would n't 
 stand up nohow. May be it was broke. I went out 
 of the dore, but I had n't more 'n got down the steps, 
 when bow ! wow ! wow ! comes four or five infernal 
 grate big coon-dogs, rite at me. " Git out ! git out ! 
 bellow, Cato ! call off your dogs! " ses I, as loud as I 
 could. But Cato was sound asleep, and if I had n't 
 a run back into the hall, and got out the front way 
 as quick as I could, them devils would chawed my 
 bones for true. 
 
 When I got to my boss, I felt like a feller jest out 
 of a hornet's nest ; and I reckon I went home a lit- 
 tle of the quickest. 
 
 Next mornin' old Miss Stallins sent my hat by a 
 little nigger ; but I hain't seed Mary Stallins sense. 
 Now you see what comes of chawin' tobacker ! No 
 more from Your friend, till death, 
 
 Jos. Jones. 
 
MAJOR JONES'S COURTSHIP. I4I 
 
 II. 
 
 THE MAJOR HAS A MISADVENTURE. 
 
 I want to tell you about a scrape I got in tother 
 day, as I know you never heard of jest sich a catas- 
 terfy before. 
 
 Last Sunday, Miss Mary and Miss Carline and 
 Miss Kesiah and all of the Stallinses wer at church, 
 and when it was out I jest rid right up to Miss Mary 
 and 'lowed I 'd see her home. She didn't say noth- 
 in', and I rid along side of her a little ways, and be- 
 gun to feel mighty good ; but before we got out of 
 sight of the church ther was a whole gang of fellers, 
 and a heap more young lady's, cum ridin' up and 
 reinin' in, and prancin' and cavortin' about so that 
 nobody could tell who was ridin' with which : all jab- 
 berin' and talkin' and laughin', as if they 'd been to a 
 corn-shuckin' instead of a meetin'-house. Of course 
 cousin Pete was thar, on uncle Josh's old white-eyed 
 boss, with his saddle-bags on, — for he always carrys 
 'em wherever he goes, to make folks blieve he''s a 
 doctor, — and the way he tumbled the big words 
 about was 'stonishin'. I did n't say much, but rid 
 monstrous close to one side of Miss Mary, so cousin 
 Pete could n't shine much thar. 
 
 Well, we all got to old Miss Stallinses without any 
 perticeler accident happenin', though I spected every 
 minit to see some of 'em histed rite in the mud, the 
 way they kep whippin' one another's bosses un- 
 awars, and playin' all manner of pranks with one 
 another. When we got thar the whole crowd stoped, 
 and some one proposed a walk down to the branch 
 
142 ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN LIFE. 
 
 to git some grapes. All hands was agreed 'cept old 
 Miss Stallins, who sed the galls better stay home 
 and read the Bible. But you know it ain't no use to 
 talk about religion to young galls when they ain't 
 sick nor sorry bout nothin'. So away we went ; but 
 I tuck monstrous good care to git long side of Miss 
 Mary, and thar I stuck till we got down to the branch 
 whar the grapes wer. You know the wild grapes is 
 jest gittin' good now ; and I never seed a pretty 
 young lady yet that did n't like something sour. 
 Ther 's lots of fox grapes all round the plantation, 
 but the best ones is down on the branch. Cousin 
 Pete and Ben Biers, and all the fellers, fell to get- 
 tin' grapes for the ladys, but they all had ther Sun- 
 day fixins on, and was fraid to go into the brush 
 much. 
 
 " Oh, my ! what pretty grapes is on that tree ! " 
 ses Miss Mary, lookin' up half-way to the top of the 
 grate big gum that stood right over the water ; and 
 her pretty bright eyes sparklin' like dew-drops in the 
 sunshine. *' Oh, I wish I had some ! " 
 
 Cousin Pete had been tryin' to make himself very 
 poplar with Miss Mary, but he did n't seem to care 
 about them high grapes more 'n some that was lower 
 down. But all the galls had got ther eyes on them 
 high grapes. 
 
 " Them grapes is like the young ladys," ses cousin 
 Pete. 
 
 " Why is they like the galls } " axed Miss Kesiah. 
 
 " Oh, cause — cause they 's sweet," ses cousin 
 Pete. 
 
 " I reckon it 's cause they 's hard to git," ses Bill 
 Willson. 
 
 " It 's cause they 's more trouble to git than they 's 
 worth," ses Tom Stallins. 
 
MAJOR JONES'S COURTSHIP. 143 
 
 "Ain't you shamed, brother Tom ? " ses Miss Car- 
 line. 
 
 "What do you think, Majer?" ses Miss Mary; 
 and she gin me one of them witchin' side-looks of 
 hers that almost made me jump rite out of my boots. 
 
 *'Why," ses I, "I think they's like the young 
 ladys cause they 's sour grapes to them as can't git 
 em. 
 
 "Yes, Majer," ses she, ** but you know they can 
 git 'em that has the prowess to win 'em," — and then 
 she gin me a look that made me feel prouder than 
 I ever did afore in my life, — " and you can git 'em 
 if you try, Majer; I know you kin." 
 
 When she said that last part, I seed cousin Pete's 
 lip sort o' drap. My heart liked to knock the but- 
 tons off my jacket, and I do blieve I 'd had them 
 grapes if I 'd had to dig the tree up by the roots. 
 My hat went off quicker than a flash, and up the old 
 sweetgum I went like a cat squirrel. 
 
 "Don't fall, Majer," ses Miss Mary. When she 
 said that, I swar I like to let go, it made me feel so 
 interestin'. I was n't no time gittin' to the very tip- 
 top branch, and the fust thing I done was to cut off 
 the largest bunch, and throw it rite down to Miss 
 Mary's feet. 
 
 "Thank you, Majef, — thank you," ses she. 
 
 " Throw me some, Majer," ses Miss Carline, " and 
 me too " — " and me too " — " thank you, Majer " — • 
 "throw me some, Majer " — "ain't the Majer kind } " 
 - — " it takes him to climb trees," ses all the galls. 
 
 " He 's good as a coon," ses Ben Biers. 
 
 " I can beat him any time," ses Tom Stallins. 
 
 "No, y-o-u can't, brother Tom, no sich thing," ses 
 Miss Mary, poutin' out her pretty lips at him. 
 
144 ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN LIFE. 
 
 By this time I had gin 'em more grapes than the) 
 could all eat, and carry home to boot ; and if I had 
 jest come down then, I 'd come out fust rate. But 
 you know that 's the nice pint, — to know when to 
 stop : ther is such a thing as bein' a leetle too smart 
 — and that 's jest whar I mist the figure. 
 
 I was standin' on one vine right over the branch, 
 with my hands holt of one over my head, and thinks 
 I to myself, How it would stonish 'em all now to see 
 me skin the cat. My spunk was up, and thinks I 
 I '11 jest show 'em what I kin do. So up I pulls my 
 feet and twisted 'em round through my arms over 
 backwards, and was lettin' my body down tother 
 side foremost, when they all hollered out, — 
 
 " Oh, look at Majer Jones ! " '* Oh, see what he 's 
 doin' ! " 
 
 ** Oh, I 'm so fraid," ses Miss Mary. 
 
 That made me want to do my best, so I let my- 
 self down slow and easy, and I begun to feel with 
 my feet for the vine below. 
 
 *' Oh, my gracious ! " ses Miss Kesiah, " see how 
 he is twisted his arms round." 
 
 Somehow I could n't find the vine, and my arms 
 begun to hurt, but I did n't say nothin'. 
 
 " A 1-e-e-t-l-e further forward, Majer," ses Tom 
 Stallins. 
 
 " No ; more to the right," ses Ben Biers. 
 
 The galls wer all lookin', and did n't know what to 
 say. I kep tryin' to touch both ways, but cuss the 
 vine was thar. Then I tried to git back agin, but I 
 could n't raise myself, somehow, and I begun to feel 
 monstrous dizzy ; the water below looked sort o' yal- 
 ler and green, and had sparks of fire runnin' all 
 through it, and my eyes begun to feel so tight, I 
 
■■■•■a 
 
 
 
 See page 144. 
 
MAJOR JONES'S COURTSHIP. 1 45 
 
 thought they would bust. They was all hoUerin' 
 semething down below, but I could n't hear nothin' 
 but a terrible roarin' sound, and the fust thing I 
 knowd something tuck me right under the chin, and 
 before I had time to breathe, kerslash I went, right 
 in the cold water, more 'n six feet deep. I got my 
 mouth chock full of muddy water, and how upon 
 yeath I ever got out without droundin' I can't see ; 
 for I was almost dead before I drapt, and when I 
 come down I hit sumthing that like to broke my jaw- 
 bone, and skinned my nose most bominable. 
 
 When I got out, the galls wer all screamin' for 
 life, and Miss Mary was pale as her pocket-hanker- 
 cher. 
 
 '* Oh, I 'm so glad you ain't hurt no wurse, Majer," 
 ses she ; '* I thought you was killed." 
 
 But, Lord ! she did n't begin to know how bad I 
 was hurt. 1 sot down on a log a little, and the fel- 
 lers all come round laughin' like they was almost 
 tickeld to death. 
 
 " Was n't I right, Majer .'* — ain't they more trouble 
 to git than they 's worth after you 's got 'em } " 
 
 I didn't say nothin' to Tom Stallins, cause he's 
 Miss Mary's brother ; but cousin Pete come up with 
 his fine rigins on, laughing like a grate long-legged 
 fool, as he is. Says he, — 
 
 "Ain't you shamed to cut sich anticks as that! 
 I 'd have more sense — jest look at your nose — ha, 
 ha ! Ain't you got yourself in a nice fix with yer 
 smartness t " 
 
 The galls was gitin' ready to go home ; Miss Mary 
 was lookin' monstrous serious. 
 
 " Don't you think he looks like a drounded rat, 
 Miss Mary ? " axed cousin Pete. 
 
 10 
 
146 ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN LIFE. 
 
 " I think he looks as good as you do, any time," 
 ses she, looking as mad as she could. 
 
 Pete sort of looked a leetle sheapish, and turned 
 round and tried to laugh. 
 
 '* I would n't take sich a duckin' as that not for all 
 the sour grapes nor sour gals in Georgia," ses he. 
 
 Thinks I, that 's sort of personally insultin' to 
 Miss Mary, and I seed her face grow sort o' red. 
 It would n't never do to let cousin Pete hurt her 
 feelins so right afore my face ; so, ses I, — 
 
 "You would n't, would n't you.''" and with that 
 I jest tuck hold of the gentleman and pitched him 
 neck and heels into the branch. 
 
 When he got out, he 'lowed he 'd settle it with 
 me some other time, when thar was n't no ladys 
 along to take my part. That 's the way cousin Pete 
 settles all his accounts, — some other time. 
 
 Tom Stalhns tuck his sisters home, and the rest 
 of the gals and fellers went along ; but cousin Pete 
 and I did n't show ourselves no more that day. I 
 hain't seed him sense, tho' thar 's been all sorts of 
 a muss 'tween mother and aunt Mahaly about that 
 Sunday bisness. I don't think I '11 ever skin the 
 cat agin. No more from 
 
 Your friend, till death, 
 
 Jos. Jones. 
 
 III. 
 
 A GEORGIA COON HUNT. 
 
 That duckin' what I got tother Sunday gin me a 
 monstrous cold, and my nose feels jest about twice 
 as big as it used to before. Colds is curious things 
 any way ; no wonder people always calls em bad, for 
 
MAJOR JONES'S COURTSHIP. 147 
 
 I don't know nothin' but a downright fever 'n ager 
 that makes me so out o' sorts. Why, I can't taste 
 nothin' nor smell nothin', and I do blieve I 've 
 sneezed more 'n five thousand times in the last 
 twenty-four owers. I 'm all the time a hich-cheein' ! 
 so, I can't do nothin', or I 'd rit you before now 
 about a coon hunt we had tother night, whar I 
 cotched more cold than coons. But we had some 
 rale fun, I tell you. It was the fust coon hunt we 've 
 had this season, and I reckon it tuck the starch out 
 of sum of the boys, so they won't want to go agin in 
 a hurry. Cousin Pete like to cotch'd his death. 
 
 You see, I 's got two of the best coon dogs in the 
 settlement, and the fellers can't never go without 'em. 
 Well, jest after supper I heard 'em comin', blowin' 
 ther horns like they was gwine to tear down the 
 walls of Jerico, and the dogs all howlin' as if heaven 
 and yeath was comin' together. I 'd been layin' off 
 to go to see Miss Mary, but my nose was n't quite 
 well whar I blazed it on that dratted grape-vine, and 
 so I thought I mought as well go long with 'em ; 
 specially as they begged so hard for my company, 
 (my patience, my nose feels jest like it was the spout 
 of a bilin' tea-kittle), and Smart and Wise would n't 
 trail good without me to make 'em. So I told nig- 
 ger Jim to git some light-wood and the axe, and let 
 the dogs out, and come along. 
 
 Well, cousin Pete, he 's never said peas about the 
 duckin' I gin him, and I wish I had n't done it now, 
 for he 's a rite clever-hearted feller after all, and, you 
 know, it ain't his fault cause he 's got no better 
 sense. Cousin Pete was along, with two hound 
 pups, and Tom Stallins had three or four hounds 
 and one grate big yaller cur, what was n't worth 
 
148 ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN LIFE. 
 
 shucks to trail, but was bomination to fight. Ben 
 Biers had more dogs than you could shake a stick 
 at; and sich another hellabeloo as they all made! 
 why, one could n't hear himself think for 'em. It 
 put me in mind of what Shakespear ses about 
 
 dogs : — 
 
 " I never herd sich powerful discord, 
 Sich sweet thunder." 
 
 Well, we soon tuck the woods down towards the 
 branch, and ses I to Smart and Wise, ** high on ! " 
 ses I, and away they went, snuffin' and snortin' like 
 mad. The rest of the fellers hollered, *' steboy ! sick 
 'em, Tows ! hunt 'em, Troup ! high on ! hey ! " and 
 part of 'em went tarein' through the brush like they 
 had a coon's tail within a inch of ther noses. But 
 ther was two or three young hounds — and, you 
 know, they 's the biggest fools in the world — what 
 would n't budge ; and when anybody tried to en- 
 courage 'em to hunt, they'd begin to squall like all 
 nater, and come jumpin' about, and one of 'em licked 
 Ben Biers rite in the face. " Cuss your imperence! " 
 ses Ben, *' I '11 larn you how to tree coons better 'n 
 that," and spang he tuck him a side of the head with 
 a lighterd-knot, and sich another ki-i ! ki-i ! ki-i-in' ! 
 I never heard afore. Two or three of 'em tuck the 
 hint and turned tail for home. 
 
 It was a bominable dark night, and every now and 
 then it kep sprinklin' a little. I and two or three 
 more carried torches, but some of 'em had none, and 
 was all the time gittin' lost, or gitting hung in the 
 bushes, and then they 'd holler out, " Hold the light 
 sumbody, over here ! " till they got out of ther tan- 
 glement. It was a mighty sight of botherment, and 
 we did n't go very fast, you may know. 
 
MAJOR JONES'S COURTSHIP. 149 
 
 Bimeby one of the dogs opened, and we all stoped 
 to listen. 
 
 ** Ough ! ough-ough ! " In about two minits more 
 we heerd him agin : "Ough-ough ! ough-ough ! ough- 
 ough ! " 
 
 "That's Majer's Smart," ses Tom Stallins. 
 
 "He's treed," ses Ben Biers; "but he's way 
 tother side of creation." 
 
 " No, he hain't treed, but he 's on a warm trail," 
 ses I ; for I know'd by the way he opened. 
 
 "I wouldn't go whar he is for all the coons in 
 Georgia," ses cousin Pete. 
 
 "Stop," ses I, "may be he'll bring the trail up 
 this way." 
 
 Shore enough, he was comin' like a steam-car, 
 every now and then blowin' off, — " ough-ough " 
 ough-ough ! ough-ough ! " — gittin' faster and louder, 
 as the track warmed. Then old Wise struck in, with 
 his voice about three pitches higher than Smart's, 
 and Troup and Touse, and the w^hole pack of 'em 
 jined in, keepin' up a most oudacious racket. On 
 they come, and passed right by us, gwine up the 
 branch towards old Mr. Myrick's corn field. We all 
 turned and tuck after 'em, but they did n't go far be- 
 fore they all come to a stop, and old Smart gin out 
 his loud bull-dog, " ough ! — ough ! ough ! " which 
 is jest as much as to say, " Here 's yer coon ! " 
 
 When we got up to 'em, thar they all was, friskin' 
 about one of the biggest kind of poplers, close to the 
 branch : all barkin' and pantin' and lookin' up into 
 the tree like they seed the coon run up. Sometimes 
 the young ones would git in the way of the old dogs, 
 and the fust thing they 'd know, they 'd git slung 
 more 'n six foot into the bushes ; but they'd give a 
 
150 ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN LIFE. 
 
 yelp or so and come right back, to git sarved the 
 same way agin. 
 
 Well, I tell you what, it tuck a feller mighty wide 
 between the eyes to tackle that tree, for it was a 
 whopper ; but off coats, and at it we w^ent, and by 
 the time nigger Jim got his fires kindled all round, 
 so the coon could n't run off without our seein' him, 
 the old tree begun to feel weak in the knees. 
 
 " Hold the dogs, boys ; she 's gwine to cave," ses 
 Ben Biers. 
 
 The next minit, kerslash ! w^ent the old poplar, 
 right into the branch, makin' the muddy water fly in 
 every direction, and before the limbs was all done 
 fallin', in went the dogs. All was still for about two 
 minits before anybody sed a word. 
 
 " They 've got him ! " ses Ben Biers, who was 
 standin' with his mouth w^ide open all the while; 
 **they 've got him ! hurra ! " 
 
 Then ther was sich another rippin' and tearin', 
 and barkin' and shoutin', and runnin' among the 
 dogs and fellers. 
 
 *' Hurra ! take him ! bite him ! sick him, Tows ! 
 lay hold of him, Wise ! shake him, Smart ! " and all 
 kinds of encouragement was hollered to the dogs ; 
 but every now and then one of 'em would come out 
 pantin' and whinin' and holdin' his head a one side, 
 with his ears all slit to ribbins. 
 
 The coon had the advantage of the dogs, for he 
 was down in the brush and water, so more 'n one 
 dog could n't git to him at a time, nohow ; and if one 
 of 'em happened to take hold of the bitin' eend, in 
 the dark, he was nearly licked to death before he 
 could let loose. 
 
 Cousin Pete was on top of the log with a torch in 
 his hand, coaxin' on the dogs as hard as he could. 
 
MAJOR JONES'S COURTSHIP. 151 
 
 " Here, Wolf," ses he, " here ! here, take hold of 
 him, good feller, — shake him ! " 
 
 Tom Stallinses big cur jumped onto the log, and 
 the next thing I know'd cousin Pete's light was out, 
 and the dogs had him down under the log with the 
 coon. 
 
 " Oh, my Lord ! git out ! call off the dogs ! bring 
 a light, fellers ! " holler'd out cousin Pete ; but be- 
 fore we could git thar the dogs like to used him up 
 clean. The big dog he was callin' knocked him off 
 the log in his hurryment to git at the coon, and be- 
 fore the other dogs found out the mistake they like 
 to tare all his clothes off his back, they and the brush 
 together. 
 
 By this time the coon tuck the bank and tried to 
 make off, most of the dogs bein' out of the notion of 
 tryin' him agin ; but Tom Stallins' big cur, after a 
 heap of coaxin', gin him one more hitch. The coon 
 had no friends in the crowd, but the other dogs was 
 perfectly willin' to show him fair fight ; and if any- 
 body don't blieve a coon 's got natural pluck, he jest 
 ought to seed that same old coon, the way he fit. 
 Sometimes Wolf would gether holt of him like he 
 was gwine to swaller him whole, and mash him all 
 into a cocked hat ; but it did n't seem to have no ef- 
 fect, for in less than no time he 'd have the dog rite 
 by the cheek or by the ear, and he would n't let go 
 till the hide gin way. It was the hottest night's 
 work ever old Wolf undertuck, and it tuck a mighty 
 chance of hollerin' to make him stand up to the rack 
 as well as he did. The other dogs kept runnin' 
 round and whinin' mighty anxious, but they tuck 
 good care to keep out of reach of the coon. Bimeby 
 I seed old Wolf drap his tail and kind o' wag it, 
 
152 ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN LIFE. 
 
 when the coon had him by the jowl. I know'd it 
 was all day with him then. "Shake him, Wolf! lay 
 hold of him, old feller ! bite him ! " says Tom ; but 
 it want no use ; the dog was clean licked, and the 
 fust thing we know'd he was gone for home, kind o' 
 whistlin' to himself as he went, — and if nigger Jim 
 had n't fotch 'd my pistols along with him, the coon 
 would got away, after all. 
 
 Cousin Pete, who was terribly down in the mouth 
 and as wet as a drounded rat, wanted to go, so we 
 gin nigger Jim the coon and started for home. Some 
 of the dogs was along, and they kep a mighty snort- 
 in' like they 'd cotch'd a monstrous bad cold, and 
 every now and then they'd find sum new place 
 about 'em what wanted lickin'. 
 
 We was most up to the corner of our field when 
 the dogs started up something, and run it a little 
 ways and stopped. Tom Stallins and Ben Biers, 
 and one or two more, run to 'em before I could git 
 thar. 
 
 *' Thar it is — that black and white thing — on 
 that log," ses Tom. " Steboy ; catch him ! " ses he. 
 
 Ben run up with his light, and the fust thing I 
 heerd him say was, " P-e-u-g-h ! thunder an light- 
 nin' ! — look out, fellers ! it 's a pole-cat ! " 
 
 But the warnin' was too late for Ben Biers ; he got 
 scent enough on him to last him for a month. The 
 dogs got chock full, and was rollin' all about in the 
 leaves, while Ben stood and cussed more 'n would 
 blow the roof off a meetin'-house. 
 
 It was most day before we got home. Cousin 
 Pete and Ben Biers say they won't never go coon 
 huntin' any more down that way, anyhow. No more 
 from Your friend, till death, 
 
 Jos. Jones. 
 
MAJOR JONES'S COURTSHIP. 1 53 
 
 IV. 
 
 THE MAJOR HAS A RIVAL. 
 
 Well, now I Ve got a fair swing at Miss Mary, for 
 she 's so close I can jest call in any time ; but 'tween 
 you and me, I 'm fraid I 'm gwine to have some 
 trouble bout this matter vit. Ther 's a lot of fellers 
 scootin' round her that I don't more 'n half like, no- 
 how. One chap's jest come from the North, rigged 
 out like a show monkey, with a little tag of hair 
 hangin' down under his chin jest like our old billy 
 goat, that 's a leetle too smart for this latitude, I 
 think. He 's got more brass in his face than ther is 
 in mother's preservin' kittle, and more gab than Mr. 
 Mountgomery and our preacher together. He 's a 
 music teacher and I don't know what all, and makes 
 himself jest as popler bout town as if he 'd lived 
 here all his life. All the town galls is gwine to take 
 lessons from him on the pianer, 'cept Miss Mary, 
 and old Miss Stallins ses she ain't gwine to the ex- 
 pense of buyin' a pianer these hard times, nohow. 
 She ses she 's gwine to larn her galls to make good 
 housekeepers and good wives, and when they git 
 married, if ther husbands hke musick, they can buy 
 sich things for 'em, if they 've a mind to. 
 
 " Yes, madam, but though, you know " — ses the 
 imperent cuss, the very fust time he was interduced 
 into the house by cousin Pete, who is jest as thick 
 with him as two fools could be — " you know 'com- 
 plishments is the best riches a young lady can have; 
 'complishments last forever, but riches don't." 
 
 " But nobody can't live on 'complishments," ses 
 old Miss Stallins ; " not these times they can't." 
 
154 ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN LIFE. 
 
 " Yes ; but Miss Stallins," ses he, " you 's rich 
 enough to give your butiful daughters every grati- 
 fication in the world. Now you had n't ought to be 
 so stingy with sich charmin' daughters as you 've 
 got." 
 
 Well, cuss your imperence, thought I, for a stran- 
 ger, right afore ther faces, too ; and I never wanted 
 to settle my foot agin the seat of a feller's trowses 
 so bad afore in my life. Old Miss Stallins did n't 
 say much. I was settin' pretty near Miss Mary, and 
 when he begun to run on so I sot in talkin' with 
 her, so she could n't hear the dratted fool, but the 
 fust thing I knowed Mr. Crotchett come and sot 
 right down between us. 
 
 " Don't you think we can 'swade the old woman 
 into it. Miss Mary, if we lay our heads together } " 
 
 I gin Mary a look as much as to say, I think he 's 
 in a mighty grate hurry to lay your beds together ; 
 but she jest smiled, and put her hankercher up to 
 her face, and sed she did n't know. 
 
 "I say, Jones," ses he, "won't you be a spoke in 
 my wheel, old feller } I 'm dyin' in love with this 
 butiful young lady, and I can't bear to see her op- 
 TpQvttinities neglected." 
 
 I looked at the feller rite in the face, and I jest 
 had it on the eend of my tongue to tell him cuss his 
 insurance. But Miss Mary was thar and her mother, 
 and I tried to turn it off the best way I could, with- 
 out lettin' my temper rise. 
 
 " I ain't no wagon-maker, Crotchett," ses I, " but 
 I 've got a nigger feller that kin put a spoke in your 
 wheel mighty quick, if that 's all you want." 
 
 Miss Mary crammed her hankercher in her mouth. 
 
 "Oh," ses he, "you don't take, — you don't take> 
 
MAJOR JONES'S COURTSHIP. I55 
 
 Jones ; I mean, can't you help me to court Miss 
 Mary, here, and her mother ? " 
 
 I begun to feel sort o' warm behind the ears, but 
 I thought I 'd jest give him a sort of a hint. 
 
 " I reckon you won't need no help," ses I ; " you 
 seem to git along pretty fast for a stranger." 
 
 " I think so, too, Joseph," sed old Miss Stallins. 
 
 " Then you will give your consent, I spose, m^ad- 
 am," ses he. 
 
 I did n't breathe for more 'n a minit, and tried to 
 look at 'em all three at the same time. 
 
 " What, sir "t " axed the old woman, openin' her eyes 
 as wide as she could and drapin' her ball of nittin' 
 yarn on the floor at the same time. 
 
 " You '11 buy one, won't you } " 
 
 " Whew ! " ses I, right out loud, for I felt so re- 
 lieved. 
 
 Miss Mary laughed more 'n I ever heard her afore 
 in company. 
 
 "That 's what I won't," ses old Miss Stallins, jerk- 
 in' at the ball till she like to onwinded it all, tryin' 
 to pull it to her ; " not these tiuies, I '11 asshore you, 
 oir. 
 
 I jumped up and got the ball, and wouhd all the 
 yarn on it, and handed it to her. 
 
 "Thank you, Joseph," ses she, — " thank you, my 
 
 son." 
 
 I kind o' cleared my throte, and my face burnt 
 like fire when she sed that. 
 
 " Oh, ho ! " ses he, lookin' round to me, " I see 
 how the wind blows, Jones, but you might as well 
 give up the chase, for I don't think you can shine. 
 I 'm smitten myself. What say you. Miss Mary ? 
 The Majer hain't got no morgage, has he ? " 
 
1^6 ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN LIFE. 
 
 " Oh, no, sir," said Miss Mary, — " none at all." 
 
 " Any claim, Jones, eh ? " 
 
 I tried to say something, but I could n't git a word 
 in edge-ways, and every time I looked at Miss Mary 
 she kep laughin'. 
 
 " Ther ain't no morgage on nary nigger nor foot 
 of ground, thank the Lord, these hard times," sed 
 the old woman. She was drappin' to sleep, and 
 did n't know what she was talkin' about. 
 
 It was Saturday night and time to go ; but I 
 was n't gwine till Crotchett went, and he did n't 
 seem like he was gwine at all. 
 
 ''Wonder what time it is } " sed Miss Mary. 
 
 •' Oh, tain't late," ses he, " Is ther gwine to be 
 any preachin' here to-morrow .'* " 
 
 " Yes, sir," ses Miss Mary. 
 
 " Are you gwine t " axed Crotchett. 
 
 " I bUeve mother intends to go." 
 
 " Very glad," ses he. " I '11 be very much obliged 
 to attend you." 
 
 "Mother is gwine, I blieve." 
 
 " But won't you go, too } I 'm certain to come 
 after you ; come, you must say " — 
 
 "■ It's most ten," ses I ; but he did n't pay no 'ten- 
 tion to that. 
 
 " Shall I have the pleasure, Miss " — 
 
 '' It 's ten o'clock," ses I, agin, '' and I 'm a gwine," 
 — and I looked at the feller, and then shook my 
 head at Miss Mary. 
 
 " I '11 call for you. Miss Mary," sed Crotchett, 
 pickin' up his hat. 
 
 Miss Mary did n't say nothin', but kind o' smiled, 
 I thought. 
 
 ** Good evenin', Miss Mary," ses I. 
 
MAJOR JONES'S COURTSHIP, 1 57 
 
 — "That I won't, not these hard times! " ses old 
 Miss Stallins, jest wakin' up. 
 
 " Good evenin', ladies," ses Crotchett. 
 
 Well, next morn in' don't you think Miss Mary 
 went to meetin' with that imperent cuss, and I had 
 to take old Miss Stallins and Miss Carline, and 
 cousin Pete tuck Miss Kesiah. Thar he was, shore 
 enough, and nobody could n't git to say a word to 
 Miss Mary, and before the galls was out of the dore 
 he had her arm in his. I never felt jest zactly so 
 cheap afore in my life, to see that journeyman fiddler, 
 what nobody did n't know nothin' about, walkin' with 
 Miss Mary to church, and stickin' his big carroty 
 whiskers right down under her bonnet, and talkin* 
 to her, and grinnin' like a baked possum. And what 
 made me feel worse, was she seemed to take it all 
 so mighty fine. 
 
 Miss Carline ses I musn't mind it, cause Miss 
 Mary could n't help herself. But I mean to find out 
 all about it, and if she is big enough fool to be tuck 
 in by sich small taters as he is, I '11 jest drap the 
 whole bisness at once, for ther ain't nothin' in crea- 
 tion I hates wors'n a coquet. No more from 
 
 Your friend, till death, Jos. Jones. 
 
 V. 
 
 AND WHAT CAME OF IT. 
 
 Well, ther's been adredful climax among the galls 
 in Pineville sense my last letter. Things has turned 
 out jest as I spected, only a grate deal more so. 
 They could n't went more to my likin' if they 'd tried. 
 That chap Crotchett, what I told you about, had all 
 
158 ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN LIFE. 
 
 the galls in town crazy round him, in no time, and I 
 do blieve they tried to see which could get the most 
 'tention out of him. The way the feller did shine 
 for about a week beat anything that was ever seed 
 in Pineville ; he was callin' and takin' tea here, and 
 dinner thar, and ridin' out with this young lady, and 
 walkin' out and perminadin', as he called it, with that 
 one, jest as if he was cousin or uncle, or some near 
 kin to 'em all. Well, Miss Mary come in for her 
 share, and I do blieve the cussed fool — it makes me 
 so mad when I think of it — I do blieve he had a 
 notion of marryin' her ; and what was a drated sight 
 worse, she seemed to be bout as willin' as he was. 
 He sed his kin was all monstrous rich, and owned 
 some mighty grate water-powers in the Jarsey. He 
 told old Miss Stallins that he jest come out south 
 to spend the winter, for his health, and he would 
 like to 'stonish his people by takin' a butiful wife to 
 New York with him in the spring. He showed the 
 old woman two or three maps of thunderin' big towns 
 that was all on his father's land ; one was named 
 Crotchettville, and had the greatest water-powers in 
 it in the world, he sed, 'cept Niagara Falls, which he 
 lowed was hard to beat. But old Miss Stallins 
 was n't to be tuck in so easy, and she gin her galls 
 a good talkin' to right afore me about the way they 
 was blievin' everything he told 'era. 
 
 "A track of land," ses she, ** is worth more'n a 
 bushel basket full of sich picter papers ; and mind 
 what I say, galls, all ain't gold as glitters. I hain't 
 lived my time for nothin', and I don't blieve in these 
 Jarsey water-powers. Whar upon yeath is Jarsey, 
 anyhow } " ses she. 
 
 "Why, mother, Jarsey 's to the north," sed Miss 
 Mary. 
 
MAJOR JONES'S COURTSHIP. 159 
 
 " Hush, child," ses the old woman ; ** your head 's 
 full of nothin' but Crotchetts, and water-powers, and 
 the North, and sich nonsense. I tell you I don't 
 blieve in 'em." 
 
 " Thar ain't no use of gittin' mad at the gentle- 
 man, mother. I 'm sure he 's very polite to us all," 
 sed Miss Mary. 
 
 " Perliteness ain't everything, my child, and 'pear= 
 ances ain't everything, nother. I don't blieve in 
 these outlandish people, not till I know 'em good. 
 If they ^s so monstrous well off, and sich big things 
 whar they come from, what's the reason they don't 
 stay thar, and not be always travellin' about for ther 
 health, and tryin' to marry every gall what 's got a 
 little property .'* Nobody that 's any account don't 
 never go to the North to git married, but whenever 
 anybody gits found out in sum of ther meanness, 
 they 're shore to go to Texas or somewhar else for 
 ther health." 
 
 Them 's my sentiments, thinks I, but I did n't say 
 a word. 
 
 *'Why, mother," ses Miss Mary, "anybody can 
 see Mr. Crotchett 's a gentleman of refinement and 
 edecation." 
 
 Miss Kesiah and Miss Carline kep lookin' at me 
 and then at onenother, and smilin' ; but Miss Mary 
 looked as serious as a judge. 
 
 Old Miss Stallins was jest gwine to speak, when 
 rap, rap, went somebody at the dore. 
 
 "Thar's that plagy Crotchett, I '11 lay my life," 
 ses she. 
 
 Miss Mary run to the dore as quick as she could. 
 
 " Ah, ha ! Good evenin', Miss Stallins — ladies, 
 good evenin'. Ah, how are you, Jones — here agin, 
 eh .? " 
 
l6o ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN LIFE. 
 
 I felt my dander raisin' when the imperent cus 
 went and tuck a seat along side of Miss Mary, and 
 she begun to smile and talk with him as pleasin' as 
 could be. I knowed it would n't do for me to stay 
 thar, so I jest tuck my hat and went home. 
 
 " Good evenin', Jones," ses he. 
 
 I was in a ace of cussin' him back. 
 
 " Oh, don't go, Majer," ses Miss Mary ; *' don't go 
 yet, Majer." 
 
 I jest said, " Good evenin', ladies," without lookin' 
 at any one in pertickeler, and put out. 
 
 Well, the next mornin' I went out to the planta- 
 tion to tend to the hog-kilhn', and I was jest mad 
 enough to kill all the hogs in Georgia. I could n't 
 git that imperent cuss out of my head all day, and as 
 to Mary Stallins, I did n't hardly know what to think ; 
 sometimes I felt sort o' mad at her, but then agin I 
 could n't. The fact is, it ain't sich a easy thing to 
 feel mad at a right pretty gall, and the more a man 
 feels mad at 'em, the more he 's apt to feel sorry 
 too. I tell you what, I was in a stew. I did n't 
 know what to do. 
 
 It was after dark when I got home, and when I 
 got thar, all Pineville was in a buz ; everybody was 
 talkin' about Crotchett. Some said he was a bigamy, 
 and some said he was a thief, and I don't know what 
 all. Come to find out about i^, what do you think t 
 His name was n't Crotchett. but Jackson alias Brown, 
 and he was no more a music-teacher than I was, but 
 a dandy barber, what had stole somebody's pocket- 
 book with a heap of money, in New York, and then 
 run away, and left his wife and two children, to keep 
 from being sent to the Sing Song Penetentiary. He 
 was gone, and nobody could n't tell whar, and the 
 
MAJOR JONES'S COURTSHIP. l6l 
 
 man what come after him stuck up some notices 
 at the tavern and the post-office, offerin' "$ioo re- 
 ward ! " for anybody to ketch him. 
 
 Cousin Pete 'lowed he knowed he was n't no grate 
 shakes all the time, and was makin' more noise than 
 anybody else about gwine after him to ketch him ; 
 and all the fellers that was tryin' to git into Mr. 
 Crotchett's good graces was tellin' how they spected 
 something, and how they had ther eyes on him ; 
 they was lookin' out for him, and all that. 
 
 But Crotchett was gone, and that 's what tuck my 
 eye. I did n't care a tinker's cuss who he was, nor 
 whar he was gone to ; he could n't shine 'bout Miss 
 Mary no more, with his big whiskers and his water- 
 powers in the Jarseys, and that's. all I cared for. I 
 don't know when I felt so good ; not sense that time 
 we went after grapes, and I had to go and " skin 
 the cat " like a fool, and skinned my nose so ouda- 
 ciously. I jest tuck one of the advertisements, and 
 writ on it, '' This is a map of Mr. Crotchett's water- 
 powers at the North, for Miss Mary Stallins," and 
 sent it to her by one of the little niggers. When 
 she read it she laughed right out, and sed she jest 
 done so to try me. May be she did ; but it 's my 
 turn to try her now, and I 'm termined to do it. I '11 
 let Miss Marv Stallins know that I 've s^ot a little 
 spunk too, and I '11 let her see that I can be as inde- 
 pendent as she can. Don't you thiiik it would be a 
 good plan, if I don't carry the joke too far.'* I 'Ij 
 tell you how it works in my next. No more from 
 
 Your friend, till death, Jos. Jones, 
 
 II 
 
1 62 ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN LIFE, 
 
 VI. 
 
 A RECONCILIATION. 
 
 I do blieve last week was the longest one ever 
 was. It seemed to me that the axeltree of the world 
 wanted greasin', or something or other was out of 
 fix, for it did n't seem to turn round half so fast as 
 it used to. The days was as long as the weeks ought 
 to be, and the nights had n't no eend to 'em. Some- 
 how or other, I could n't sleep o' nights nor eat 
 nothin', and I don't know what upon yeath was the 
 matter with me, 'thout it was the dispepsy, which, 
 you know, makes people have mighty low sperits. 
 
 Cousin Pete thought he was monstrous smart, and 
 went all around town and told everybody that my 
 simptems was very bad, and sed he was gwine to put 
 a strengthenin' plaster, made out of Burgemy pitch, 
 on my breast, to keep my heart from breakin'. I 
 know what he thought, but if he sposed I was gwine 
 to make a fool' of myself 'bout Mary Stallins, he's 
 jest as much mistaken as he was when he tuck the 
 show-man for Tom Peters, from Cracker's Neck. I 
 did feel sort of vexed about the way she tuck up 
 with that bominable scoundrel Crotchett, that 's a 
 fact ; but then she was so disappinted when he 
 turned out to be a run-away barber that I could n't 
 help feelin' sorry for her, too. It 's a monstrous 
 curious feelin' when anybody tries to hate somebody 
 that they can't help likin'. The more one tries to 
 spite 'em the worse he feels himself. But I was ter- 
 mined to hold out, and if she had n't come to, I — 
 I — Well, the fact is I don't know what I should 
 a done, for it was monstrous tryin', you may depend. 
 
MAJOR JONES'S COURTSHIP. 1 63 
 
 But it 's all over now, and everything is jest as 
 straight as a fish-hook. Old Miss Stallins was over 
 to our house to take tea long of mother, one evenin' 
 last week. She and mother talked it all over about 
 Crotchett and Miss Mary to themselves, and when I 
 went to see her home she did n't talk of nothin' else 
 all the way. 
 
 " Bomination take the retch," ses the old woman, 
 " to run away from his wife and children, the fidlin* 
 wagabone, and come out here a tryin' to ruinate 
 some pore innocent gall by marryin' her, when he 's 
 got a wife to home ! He ought to be sent to the 
 penetentiary for life, so he ought." 
 
 " Zactly so, Miss Stallins," ses I; "but he was 
 mighty popler 'mong the galls. Some of 'em was 
 almost crazy after him." 
 
 " I know they was, Joseph, I know they was ; and 
 now they want to turn it all on my pore daughter 
 Mary, when, Laws knows, the child couldn't bear 
 the creetur, only for perliteness." 
 
 "Yes, but," ses I, "she went to church with him, 
 you know, and he was to your house every night 
 when I was thar, talkin' to her." 
 
 " That was only for perliteness, Joseph. That 's 
 what she larnt down to the Female College," ses 
 she. " If a gentleman comes to see a lady, she must 
 be perlite to him, whoever he is " — 
 
 Cuss sich perliteness as that, thinks I. 
 
 — " And it ain't no matter if she despises him off 
 the face of the yeath, she must talk and smile to 
 him jest like she liked him ever so much." 
 
 " But Miss Mary looked like she thought a heap 
 of Crotchett," ses I. 
 
 " It was all decate, Joseph, all decate and perlite- 
 
1 64 ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN LIFE. 
 
 ness," ses she. ''That's the way with the galls 
 nowadays, Joseph, and you mus' n't mind 'em. It 
 didn't use to be so when land your mother was 
 galls. I '11 warrant no Crotchetts did n't come 'bout 
 us if we did n't like ther company, and we had to 
 know all about 'em fore we kep company with any- 
 body." 
 
 '* It ain't so now, though, Miss Stallins," ses I = — 
 and I blieve I sort o' dravved a long breath — " it *s 
 very different now. If a chap only comes from the 
 North, or some place away out of creashun, and is 
 got a crap of hair and whiskers that would make a 
 saddle-pad, and is got a coat different from every- 
 body else, and a thunderin' grate big gold chain 
 round his neck, no matter if he stole 'em, he 's the 
 poplerest man mong the ladys, and old acquaint- 
 ances, whose been raised right along side of 'em, 
 don't stand no sort of a chance." 
 
 " Not all the galls ain't so, Joseph, — my galls 
 has n't no sich fool notions in their beds, I '11 asshore 
 you." 
 ■ By this time we was right up to the door. 
 
 "Come in, Joseph." ses she. 
 
 " No, thank you, Miss Stallins," ses I. '' I blieve 
 I '11 go home." 
 
 " Oh, come in, child, and set a while with the galls ; 
 — they 's pullin' lasses candy in the parlor." 
 
 I was kind of hesitatin', when I heard Miss Mary's 
 voice say, — 
 
 ** Never mind, mother. I 'spose he's mad at 
 me." 
 
 I could n't stand that, no more 'n a gum stump 
 could stand a clap of thunder. I hadn't heard that 
 voice for more 'n a week, and it did sound so enticin'. 
 
MAJOR JONES'S COURTSHIP. 165 
 
 It made me feel sort of trembly all over. My face 
 felt red as a pepper-pod, and my ears burnt like they 
 was frostbit. When I went into the room, Miss 
 Mary turned round with one of the wichinest smiles, 
 with her hair all fallin' over her rosy cheeks, lookin* 
 sweeter than the lasses candy what she had in her 
 hand, and said, — 
 
 " Are you mad at me, Majer ? " 
 
 I never was so tuck all aback ; my throte felt like 
 I 'd swallered a bundle of fodder, and I could n't 
 speak to save me. I don't know what would tuck 
 place if it had n't been for old Miss Stallins. 
 
 " Oh, no, Joseph ain't mad with you, child. Ther 
 never was a quarrel 'tween the Stallinses and the 
 Joneses, honey, and we 've lived neighbors these 
 twenty years ! " 
 
 " What made you think I was mad with you, Miss 
 J\Iary } " ses I. Then I kind o' stopped a little and 
 cleared my throte. '' You know I never could be 
 mad with you!' 
 
 " I thought you was," ses she, " cause you did n't 
 come to see us any more sense that night that mean 
 old Crotchett was here." 
 
 When she sed that, I do think she looked hand- 
 somer than ever she did in her life, and I couldn't 
 have the heart to say anything to make her feel bad. 
 I felt that all was ri2:ht agin, and made up my mind 
 to treat her jest like nothin' unpleasant had ever 
 happened, I was so happy. 
 
 We was all settin' by the parlor fire, and the galls 
 was pullin' lasses candy. Miss Carline ax'd me if I 
 would n't pull some. I felt so queer I did n't think 
 about nothin' but Miss ]\Iary, who was pullin' a grate 
 big piece, right close to me. 
 
1 66 ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN LIFE. 
 
 "Take some, Majer," ses she, "and pull it for me, 
 and I '11 give you this when it's done," and she kind 
 o' looked sideways at me. 
 
 " Well, I know it '11 be mighty sweet," ses I, jest 
 as I was gwinc to take up some out of the dish. 
 
 "Take care, Majer," ses she, "it's dredful hot. 
 Whar 's the spoon, Cloe } " ses she, as she was pullin' 
 away as hard as she could at a grate big bright rope 
 of lasses. 
 
 " Oh, never mind the spoon," ses I, and in goes 
 my fingers right into the almost bilin' hot lasses. 
 *' Ugh ! " ses I, and I pulled 'em out quicker 'n 
 lightnin'. 
 
 " My Lord ! " ses Miss Kesiah, '' if the Majer hain't 
 burnt his fingers dredful. That lasses is right out 
 of the pot, I know. Hain't you got no better sense, 
 Cloe -> " 
 
 I could n't help dancin' a little, ahd grindin' my 
 teeth, and slingin' my fingers ; but I did n't say 
 nothin' loud. 
 
 Well, Miss Carline tole me bring some more from 
 de kitchen," ses the cussed nigger. 
 
 " Oh, dear ! " ses Miss Mary, " I 'm so sorry. Did 
 you git much on your fingers, Majer 1 " 
 
 The tears was runnin' out of my eyes, but I did 
 n't want to let on, for fear it would make her feel 
 bad. 
 
 " Oh, no, not much. It ain't veiy bad," ses I ; and 
 the fust thing I knowed my trousers was plastered 
 all over with the cussed stuff whar I rubbed it off on 
 'em, it burnt so alfired bad. 
 
 They made old Cloe git a basin of water to wash 
 the lasses off, and old Miss Stallins got some soft 
 soap to draw the fire out, and after a while I sot 
 
MAJOR JONES'S COURTSHIP. 1 67 
 
 down with the galls to eat candy and talk about 
 Crotchett. 
 
 I tell you what, I had the game all my own way 
 this time. I hinted to ]\Iiss Mary that I was sort of 
 afraid Crotchett was gwine to cut me out, and that 
 I was a leetle jealous at first ; and she hinted to me 
 that I ought to know'd better than that, and that I 
 ought n't to expect her to show her feelins for me 
 no plainer than she had done before, and that she 
 only tuck a little notice of Crotchett jest to try me, 
 to see if really I did think anything of her. 
 
 My pen won't begin to tell my feelins. I never 
 felt so full of talk before the galls in my life, and I 
 think in one or two more heats (I don't m.ean the 
 hot lasses) I '11 be able to come up to the pint. I 
 know I 'm jest as good for old Miss Stallins's con- 
 sent as a thrip is for a ginger cake ; and if Miss 
 Mary ain't foolin' (you know these galls is mighty 
 uncertain) I think I won't have no difficulty in bring' 
 in' all things round as I want 'em. No more from 
 Your friend, till death, Jos. Jones. 
 
 VII. 
 
 THE MAJOR MOVES UP TO THE FRONT. 
 
 I 'm not a gwine to let sich matters interfere with 
 my marryin' specelation. I call it specelation, for, 
 you know, ther 's no tellin' how these things is 
 gwine to turn out. In the fust place, it 's a chance 
 if a body gits the gall he 's courtin', and after he 's 
 got her all to himself, for better or for worse, it 's a 
 chance again if she don't turn out a monstrous site 
 worse nor he tuck her for. But I think mine 's a 
 
1 68 ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN LIFE. 
 
 pretty safe bisness, for Miss Mary is jest a leetle the 
 smartest, and best, and the butifulest gall in Georgia. 
 I 've seed her two or three times sense the candy 
 pullin', and I ain't more 'n half so fraid of her as I 
 used to be. I told her tother night I had a Crismus 
 gift for her which I hoped she would take and keep. 
 
 "What is it, Majer.?" ses she 
 
 "Oh," ses I, "it's something what I wouldn't 
 give to nobody else in the world ! " 
 
 " Well, but what is it } Do tell me." 
 
 ''Something," ses I, ''what you stole from me a 
 long time ago, and sense you 've got it I want you 
 to keep it, and give me one like it in return." 
 
 " Well, do tell me what it is, fust," ses she, and I 
 seed her cut her eye at Miss Carline, and sort o* 
 smile. 
 
 " But will you give me one in return ? " ses I. 
 
 " What, Majer, — tell me what." 
 
 " I '11 tell you Crismus eve," ses I. " But will you 
 give v^^ yours in return } " 
 
 " Yonrs ! eh, my" — Then her face got as red as 
 a poppy, and she looked down. 
 
 " You know what. Miss Mary," ses I, — " will 
 you i 
 
 She did n't say nothin', but blushed worse and 
 worse. 
 
 " Now, mind," ses I, " I must have a answer Cris- 
 mus eve." 
 
 " Well," ses she, — and then she looked up and 
 laughed, and sed, — ■ " exchange is no robbery, is it, 
 sister Carline t " 
 
 "No, sis," ses she ; "but I reckon Joseph got his 
 pay bout the same time you stole his " — 
 
 " Stop, stop, sister, Majer did n't say his heart " — 
 
MAJOR JONES'S COURTSHIP. 1 69 
 
 " There, there ! " ses Miss CarUne and Miss Ke- 
 siah, clappin' ther hands, and laughin' as loud as 
 they could ; " there, there, little innocent sister has 
 let the cat out of the bag, at last. I told you so, 
 Majer." 
 
 I never felt so good afore in all my born days, 
 and Miss Mary, pore gall, hid her face in her hands 
 and begun to cry, she felt so about it That's the 
 way with the galls, you know ; they always cry when 
 they feel the happyest. But I soon got her in a good 
 humour, and then I went home. 
 
 I 'm gwine to bring her right up to the scratch 
 Crismus, or I ain't here. It would take a barber's- 
 shop full of Crotchetts to back me out now. I '11 tell 
 you how I come out in my next. No more from 
 Your friend, till death, Jos, Jones. 
 
 VIII. 
 
 THE MAJOR POPS THE QUESTION. 
 
 Crismus is over, and the thing is done did ! You 
 know I told you in my last letter I was gwine to 
 bring Miss Mary up to the chalk on Crismus. Well, 
 I done it, slick as a whistle, though it come mighty 
 nigh bein' a serious bisness. But I '11 tell you all 
 about the whole circumstance. 
 
 The fact is, I 's made my mind up more 'n twenty 
 times to jest go and come right out with the whole 
 bisness ; but whenever I got whar she was, and when- 
 ever she looked at me with her witchin' eyes, and 
 kind o' blushed at me, I always felt sort o' skeered 
 and fainty, and all what I made up to tell her was 
 forgot, so I could n't think of it to save me. But 
 
I/O ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN LIFE. 
 
 you 's a married man, Mr. Thompson, so I could n't 
 tell you nothin' about popin' the question, as they 
 call it. It 's a mighty grate favour to ax of a pretty 
 gall, and to people what ain't used to it ; it goes 
 monstrous hard, don't it t They say widders don't 
 mind it no more 'n nothin'. But I 'm makin' a trans- 
 gression, as the preacher ses. 
 
 Crismus eve I put on my new suit, and shaved my 
 face as slick as a smoothin' iron, and after tea went 
 over to old Miss Stallinses. As soon as I went into 
 the parler whar they was all settin' round the fire, 
 Miss Carline and Miss Kesiah both laughed right 
 out. 
 
 ** There! there!" ses they, "I told you so! I 
 know'd it would be Joseph." 
 
 *' What's I done, Miss Carline.^" ses I. 
 
 '* You come under little sister's chicken bone, and 
 I do believe she know'd you was comin' when she 
 put it over the dore." 
 
 '* No, I did n't, — I did n't no such thing, now," ses 
 Miss Mary, and her face blushed red all over. 
 
 *' Oh, you need n't deny it," ses Miss Kesiah ; ''you 
 belong to Joseph now, jest as sure as ther 's any 
 charm in chicken bones." 
 
 I know'd that was a first rate chance to say some- 
 thing, but the dear little creeter looked so sorry and 
 kep blushin' so, I could n't say nothin' zactly to the 
 pint ! So I tuck a chair, and reached up and tuck 
 down the bone and put it in my pocket. 
 
 "What are vou 2:wine to do with that old chicken 
 bone now, Majer.?" ses Miss Mary. 
 
 *' I 'm gwine to keep it as long as I live," ses I, 
 " as a Crismus present from the handsomest gall in 
 Georgia." 
 
MAJOR JONES'S COURTSHIP. I/I 
 
 When I sed that, she blushed worse and worse. 
 
 "Ain't you shamed, Majer ? " ses she. 
 
 " Now you ought to give her a Crismus gift, Jo- 
 seph, to keep all her life," sed Miss Carline. 
 
 " Ah," ses old Miss Stallins, ** when I was a gall 
 we used to hang up our stockins " — 
 
 " Why, mother ! " ses all of 'em, " to say stockins 
 right before " — 
 
 Then I felt a little streaked, too, cause they was 
 all blushin' as hard as thev could. 
 
 " Highty-tity ! " ses the old lady — '' what mon- 
 strous 'finement, to be shore ! I 'd like to know 
 what harm ther is in stockins. People nowadays 
 is gittin' so mealy-mouthed they can 't call nothin' 
 by its right name, and I don't see as they 's any bet- 
 ter than the old-time people was. When I was a gall 
 like you, child, I use to hang up my stockins and git 
 'em full of presents." 
 
 The galls kep laughin' and blushin'. 
 
 "Never mind," ses Miss Mary, " Majer 's got to 
 give me a Crismus gift, — won't you, Majer.-^ " 
 
 " Oh, yes," ses I ; " you know I promised you 
 one." 
 
 " But I did n't mean that,'' ses she. 
 
 "I've got one for you, what I want you to keep 
 all your life, but it would take a two bushel bag to 
 hold it," ses I. 
 
 " Oh, that 's the kind," ses she. 
 
 " But will you promise to keep it as long as you 
 live } " ses I. 
 
 "Certainly I will, Majer." 
 
 — "Monstrous 'finement nowadays,— old people 
 don't know nothin' about perliteness," said old Miss 
 Stallins, jest gwine to sleep with her nittin' in her 
 lap. 
 
1/2 ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN LIFE. 
 
 *' Now you hear that, Miss CarHne," ses I. " She 
 ses she '11 keep it all her life." 
 
 *'Yes, I will," ses Miss Mary; ''but what is it?" 
 
 "Never mind," ses I ; ''you hang up a bag big 
 enough to hold it, and you '11 find out what it is, when 
 you see it in the mornin'." 
 
 Miss Carline winked at Miss Kesiah, and then 
 whispered to her ; then they both laughed and looked 
 at me as mischievous as they could. They 'spicioned 
 something. 
 
 " You '11 be shore to give it to me now, if I hang 
 up a bag," ses Miss Mary. 
 
 " And promise to keep it," ses I. 
 
 " Well, I will, 'cause I know that you would n't 
 give me nothin' that was n't worth keepin'." 
 
 They all agreed they would hang up a bag for me 
 to put Miss Mary's Crismus present in, on the back 
 porch, and about ten o'clock I told 'em good evenin' 
 and went home. 
 
 I sot up till midnight, and when they was all gone 
 to bed I went softly into the back gate, and went up 
 to the porch, and thar, shore enough, was a great big 
 meal-bag hangin' to the jice. It was monstrous un- 
 handy to git to it, but I was termined not to back 
 out. So I sot some chairs on top of a bench, and 
 got hold of the rope, and let myself down into the 
 bag ; but jest as I was gittin' in, it swung agin the 
 chairs, and down they went with a terrible racket ; 
 but nobody did n't wake up but Miss Stallinses old 
 cur dog, and here he come rippin' and tearin' through 
 the yard like rath, and round and round he went, 
 tryin' to find what was the matter. I scrooch'd 
 down in the bas: and did n't breathe louder nor a 
 kitten, for fear he 'd find me out, and after a while 
 he quit barkin'. 
 
MAJOR JONES'S COURTSHIP. 1 73 
 
 The wind begun to blow bominable cold, and the 
 old bag kep turnin' round and swingin' so it made 
 me seasick as the mischief. I was afraid to move 
 for fear the rope would break and let me fall, and 
 thar I sot with my teeth rattlin' like I had a ager. It 
 seemed lilce it would never come daylight, and I do 
 believe if I did n't love Miss Mary so powerful I 
 would froze to death ; for my heart was the only 
 spot that felt warm, and it did n't beat more 'n two 
 licks a minit, only when I thought how she would 
 be supprised in the mornin', and then it went in a 
 canter. Bimeby the cussed old dog come up on the 
 porch and begun to smell about the bag, and then 
 he barked like he thought he 'd treed something. 
 "Bow ! wow ! wow ! " ses he. Then he 'd smell agin, 
 and try to git up to the bag. ** Git out ! " ses I, very 
 low, for fear the galls mought hear me. "Bow! 
 wow ! " ses he. "Be gone ! you bominable fool ! " 
 ses I, and I felt all over in spots, for I spected every 
 minit he 'd nip me, and what made it worse, I didn't 
 know wharabouts he 'd take hold. " Bow ! wow ! 
 wow ! " Then I tried coaxin'. " Come here, good 
 feller," ses I, and whistled a little to him, but it 
 was n't no use. Thar he stood and kep up his ever- 
 lastin' whinin' and barkin', all night. I could n't 
 tell when daylight was breakin', only by the chickens 
 crowin', and I was monstrous glad to hear 'em, for if 
 I 'd had to stay thar one hour more, I don't believe 
 I 'd ever got out of that bag alive. 
 
 Old Miss Stallins come out fust, and as soon as 
 she seed the bag, ses she, — 
 
 "What upon yeath has Joseph went and put in 
 that bag for Mary ? I '11 lay it 's a yearlin' or some 
 live animal, or Bruin would n't bark at it so." 
 
174 ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN LIFE. 
 
 She went in to call the galls, and I sot thar, shiv- 
 erin' all over so I could n't hardly speak if I tried to, 
 — but I did n't say nothin'. Bimeby they all come 
 running out on the porch. 
 
 " My goodness ! what is it ? " ses Miss Mary. 
 
 "Oh, it's alive!" ses Miss Kesiah. *' I seed it 
 move." 
 
 " Call Cato, and make him cut the rope," ses Miss 
 Carline, " and let 's see what it is. Come here, Cato, 
 and git this bag down." 
 
 " Don't hurt it for the world," ses Miss Mary. 
 
 Cato untied the rope that was round the jice, 
 and let the bag down easy on the floor, and I tum- 
 bled out, all covered with corn meal from head to 
 foot. 
 
 " Goodness gracious ! " ses Miss Mary, " if it ain't 
 the Majer himself ! " 
 
 **Yes," ses I, "and you know you promised to 
 keep my Crismus present as long as you lived." 
 
 The galls laughed themselves almost to death, and 
 went to brushin' off the meal as fast as they could, 
 sayin' they was gwine to hang that bag up every 
 Crismus till they got husbands too. Miss Mary — 
 bless her bright eyes ! — she blushed as beautiful as 
 a morning-glory, and sed she 'd stick to her word. 
 She was right out of bed, and her hair was n't 
 komed, and her dress was n't fix'd at all, but the way 
 she looked pretty was real distractin'. I do believe 
 if I was froze stiff, one look at her sweet face, as 
 she stood thar lookin' down to the floor with her 
 roguish eyes, and her bright curls fallin' all over her 
 snowy neck, would have fofched me too. I tell you 
 what, it was worth hangin' in a meal bag from one 
 Crismus to another to feel as happy as I have ever 
 sense. 
 
MAJOR JONES'S COURTSHIP. 1 75 
 
 I went home after we had the laugh out, and sot 
 by the fire till I got thawed. In the forenoon all the 
 Stallinses come over to our house, and we had one 
 of the greatest Crismus dinners that ever was seed 
 in Georgia, and I don't believe a happier company 
 ever sot down to the same table. Old Miss Stal- 
 lins and mother settled the match, and talked over 
 everything that ever happened in ther families, and 
 laughed at me and Mary, and cried about ther dead 
 husbands, cause they was n't alive to see ther chil- 
 dren married. 
 
 It 's all settled now, 'cept we hain't sot the wed- 
 din' day. I 'd like to have it all over at once, but 
 young galls always like to be engaged a while, you 
 know, so I spose I must wait a month or so. Mary 
 (she ses I must n't call her Miss Mary now) has 
 been a good deal of trouble and botheration to me ; 
 but if you could see her you would n't think I ought 
 to grudge a little sufferin' to git sich a sweet little 
 wife. Your friend, till death, Jos. Jones. 
 
 IX. 
 
 THE WEDDING. 
 
 I am too happy, and no mistake ; the twenty-sec- 
 ond of February is over, and the " consumation so 
 devotedly to be wished for " is tuck place. In other 
 words, I 's a married man ! ! 
 
 I ain't in no situation to tell you all how the thing 
 tuck place, not by no means, and if it was n't for my 
 promis, I don't blieve I could keep away from my 
 wife long enough to write you a letter. Bless her 
 little heart, I didn't think I loved her half so good 
 
1/6 ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN- LIFE. 
 
 as I do ; but to tell you the real truth, I do blieve 
 I 've been almost out of my senses ever sense night 
 before last. But I must be short this time while the 
 galls is plaguein' Mary in tother room. They is so 
 full of ther mischief. 
 
 I had the license got mor 'n a week ago, and old 
 Mr. Eastman brung home my weddin' suit jest in 
 time. Mother would make me let cousin Pete w^ait 
 on me, and Miss Kesiah was bride's-maid. Mother 
 and old Miss Stallins had everything ranged in fust 
 rate style long before the time ariv, and nothing was 
 wantin' but your company to make everything com- 
 plete. 
 
 Well, about sundown cousin Pete come round to 
 my room, whar we rigged out for the weddin', and I 
 don't blieve I ever seed him look so good ; but if 
 he'd jest tuck off them bominable grate big sorrel 
 whiskers of his, he 'd looked a monstrous sight bet- 
 ter. I put on my fawn-colored britches, and blue 
 cloth cote, and white satin jacket, and my new beaver 
 hat, and then w^e druv round to old Squire Rogerses 
 and tuck him into the carriage, and away we went 
 out to Miss Stallinses plantation. When we got to 
 the house ther was a most everlastin' getherin' thar 
 waitin' to see the ceremony before they eat ther 
 supper. Everybody looked glad, and old Miss Stal- 
 lins was flyin' round like she did n't know which 
 eend she stood on. 
 
 " Come in, Joseph," ses she ; " the galls is in the 
 other room." 
 
 But I could n't begin to git in tother room, for the 
 fellers all pullin' and haulin' and shakin' the life out 
 of me to tell me how glad they was. 
 
 "Howdy, Majer, howdy," ses old Mr. Byers. "I 
 
MAJOR JONES'S COURTSHIP. 177 
 
 give you joy," ses he; "yer gwine to marry the 
 flower of the county, as I always sed. She 's a 
 monstrous nice gall, Majer." 
 
 "That's a fact," ses old Mr. Skinner, "that's a 
 fact ; and I hope you '11 be a good husband to her, 
 Joseph, and that you '11 have good luck with your 
 
 little " — 
 
 " Thank you, thank you, gentlemen ; come along, 
 cousin Pete," ses I, as quick as I could git away 
 from 'em. 
 
 The dore to tother room was opened, and in we 
 went. I never was so struck all up in a heap. Thar 
 sot Mary with three or four more galls, butiful as a 
 anscel and blushin' like a rose. When she seed me 
 she kind o' looked down and sort o' smiled, and sed, 
 " Good evenin', Joseph." 
 
 I could n't say a word, for my life, for more 'n a 
 minit. Thar she sot, the dear gall of my heart, 
 and I could n't help but think to myself what a in- 
 fernal cuss a man must be that could marry her and 
 then make her unhappy by treatin' her mean ; and 
 I determined in my sole to stand between her and 
 the storms of the world, and to love her, and take 
 care of her, and make her happy as long as I lived. 
 If you could jest seen her as she w^as dressed then, 
 and you was n't a married man, you could n't help 
 but envy my luck, after all the trouble I 've had to 
 git her. She was dressed jest to my likin', in a fine 
 white muslin frock, with short sleeves, and white 
 satin slippers, with her hair all hangin' over her 
 snow-white neck and shoulders in butiful curls, with- 
 out a single breastpin or any kind of jewelry or or- 
 nament, 'cept a little white satin bow on the side of 
 her head. Bimeby Miss Carline come in the room. 
 
178 ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN IIFE. 
 
 " Come, sis, they 's all ready," ses she, and ther 
 was grate big tears in her eyes, and she went and 
 gave Mary a kiss right in her mouth, and hugged 
 her a time or two. 
 
 We all got up to go. Mary trembled monstrous, 
 and I felt sort o' fainty myself, but I did n't feel 
 nothin' like cryin'. 
 
 When we got in the room whar the company was 
 old Squire Rogers stopt us right in the middle of 
 the floor and axed us for the license. Cousin Pete 
 handed 'em to him, and he read 'em out loud to the 
 people, who was all as still as death. After talkin' 
 a little he went on, — 
 
 " If enny body 's got enny thing to say why this 
 couple should n't be united in the holy bands of 
 wedlock," ses he, " let 'em now speak, or always 
 afterwards hold ther peace " — 
 
 ** Oh, my Lord ! oh, my darlin' daughter ! oh, dear 
 laws a massy ! " ses old Miss Stallins, as loud as she 
 could squall, a-clappin' her hands and cryin' and 
 shoutin' like she was at a camp meetin'. 
 
 Thunder and lightnin' ! thinks I, here 's another 
 yeathquake. But I held on to Mary, and was ter- 
 mined that nothin' short of a real bust up of all 
 creation should git her away from me. 
 
 " Go ahed, Squire," ses cousin Pete. *' It ain't 
 nothin'." 
 
 Mary blushed dredful, and seemed like she would 
 drap on the floor. 
 
 Miss Carline come and whispered something to 
 her, and mother and two or three more old wimmin 
 got old Miss Stallins to go in tother room. 
 
 The Squire went through the rest of the bisness 
 in a hurry, and me and Mary was made flesh of one 
 
MAJOR JONES'S COURTSHIP. 179 
 
 bone, and bone of one flesh, before the old woman 
 got over her highstericks. When she got better 
 she come to me and hugged and kissed me as hard 
 as she could, right afore 'em all, while all the old 
 codgers in the room was salutin' the bride, as they 
 called it. I did n't like that part of the ceremony 
 at all, and wanted to change with 'em monstrous 
 bad ; -but I reckon I 've made up for it sense. 
 
 After the marryin' was over we all tuck supper, 
 and the way old Miss Stallinses table was kivered 
 over with good things was uncommon. After 
 playin' and frolickin' till bout ten o'clock, the bride's 
 cake was cut, and sich a cake was never baked in 
 Georgia before. The Stallinses bein' Washingto- 
 nians, ther was n't no wine, but the cake was n't bad 
 to take jest dry so. About twelve o'clock the com- 
 pany begun to leave for home, all of 'em jest as 
 sober as when they come. 
 
 I had to shake hands again with 'em all, and tell 
 *em all good night. 
 
 " Good night, cousin Mary," ses Pete. '* Good 
 night, Majer," ses he. " I spose you ain't gwme 
 back to town to-night," and then bust right out in 
 a big laugh, and away he went. 
 
 That 's jest the way with Pete ; he 's a good feller 
 enough, but he ain't got no better sense. 
 
 Mary ses she 's sorry she could n't send you no 
 more cake, but Mr. Mountgomery's saddlebags 
 would n't hold half she wrapped up for you. Don't 
 forgit to put our marriage in the Miscellany. No 
 more from Your friend, till death, 
 
 Jos. Jones. 
 
MAJOR JONES'S TRAVELS. 
 
 The popularity of Major Jones's Courtship created a demand for 
 another installment of the redoubtable Georgian's adventures, and 
 gave birth to the series of " Travels " which ensue. In making selec- 
 tions from the " Courtship " my aim was to present a connected story 
 of the hero's ups and downs with his lady-love. In the " Travels " I 
 have picked out those letters which retain a certain permanent and 
 general interest and value. There is not a little in them to suggest 
 the wonderful changes in the progress of our country during the 
 last forty years. In Major Jones's day a trip from Pineville to New 
 York was a great affair. Ten days at least were required to ac- 
 complish it. Now not many more hours. The reader will, perhaps, 
 be curious to know why Mary did not accompany the Major on his 
 '* travels." The following initial chapter furnishes the reason. The 
 Major, writing to " Mr. Thompson," says : — 
 
 This is a world of disappointment, shore enuff . All my plans is busted up, and 
 I don't know if anything ever sot me back much worse before. You know I had 
 evrj'thtng fixed for a journey to the North this summer, with my famly. Well, 
 last nite, bein' as we was gwine to start the next mornin', we had a little sort of a 
 sociable party at our house, jest by way of makin' one job of biddin' good-by to the 
 nabors. "Mong the rest of 'em, old Mr. Mountgomery come to see us, and wish us 
 good luck on our journey. 
 
 Mary and all of 'em was in a monstrous f^urryment, and had little Harry all 
 dressed out in his new clothes, to let the nabors see how pretty he looked before he 
 went away. Old Mr. Mountgomery 's monstrous fond of children, and always makes 
 a heap of little Harry, 'cause he 's so smart ; and the old man tuck him up on his 
 knee and ax'd him whose sun he was, and how old he was, and a heap of other 
 things what the little feller did n't know nothing about. 
 
 "Don't you think it'll improve his helth to take him to the North?" ses Mary 
 to him. 
 
 "O, yes!'* ses he; "no doubt it 11 be a great deal of sarvice to the little feller; 
 but he '11 be a monstrous site of trouble to you on the road, Mrs. Jones." 
 
 " Yes! " ses Mary ; " but Prissy 's a very careful nurse; and she's so devoted to 
 him that she won't hardly let me touch him."' 
 
 •' O, yes ! " ses the old man ; " if you could jest take Prissy 'long with you. then 
 you 'd do very well. But there "s it, you see " — 
 
 " What ? " ses Mary ; " you did n't think I was gwine to the North without a ser- 
 vant, did you, Mr. Mountgomery ?" 
 
 The old man laughed rite out. " Ha, ha, ha ! " ses he ; *' 't ain't possible you is 
 
MAJOR JONES'S TRAVELS. l8l 
 
 gwine to take Prissy with you to New York, is it ? Why, Majer," ses he to me, 
 "hain'c you gut no better sense than to think of takin" sich a valuable nigger as that 
 with you. to have her fall into the hands of them infernal abolitionists ? " 
 
 "The mischief take the abolitionists," ses 1; "I reckon they hain't got nothin' 
 to do with none of my ni.cjgers." 
 
 The old man shuck the ashes out of his pipe, and laughed like he would split his 
 sides. 
 
 "Why, bless yer soul, Majer," ses he, "you could n't keep her from 'em a day 
 after you got to New York. No, no 1 " ses he; " not sich a likely gall as that. 
 They'd have her out of yer hands quicker'n you could say Jack Robinson." 
 
 Prissy's eyes looked like sassers, and Mary and mother and all of 'em stared 
 like they did n't know what to say. 
 
 " Why, Massa Gummery ! "' ses Prissy, " um would n't trouble me if I was 'long 
 a' Massa Joe, would dey ? "' 
 
 " To be sure they would, nigger!" ses Mr. Mountgomery ; "they'd take you 
 whether you was willin' or not, in spite of yer Massa Joe, or anybody else.' 
 
 " But," ses Mary, " Prissy would n't leave us on no account ; she knows as well 
 as anybody when she 's well treated ; and I 'm sure she could n't be better taken 
 care of nowhar in the world" 
 
 " That don't make no manner of difference," ses the old man. "They would n't 
 ax her nothin' about it. The fust thing you 'd know she 'd be gone, and then y'~'U 
 mought as well look for a needle in a haystack as to try to find a nigger in Nca' 
 York " 
 
 Then he took a paper out of his pocket and red whar a gentleman had his nigger 
 tuck from him, somewhar in Providence, and carried right off and put in jail. 
 
 " Ki,"' ses Prissy, lookln' like she was half scared out of her senses, " den I ain't 
 gwine to no New York, for dem pison ole bobolitionists for cotch me." 
 
 " But ain't ther no law for nigger stealin' at the North ? " says old Miss Stallins. 
 
 " Law! " ses Mr. Mountgomery ; " bless you, no ! They 've sold all ther niggers 
 long ago, and got the money for 'em, — so the law don't care whose niggers they 
 steal.'" 
 
 Mary sot and looked rite in the fire for 'bout a minit without sayin" a word. I 
 jest saw how it was. It wan't no use for me to think of her gwine with me, 
 'thout Prissy to take care of the baby; and after what Mr. Mountgomery had sed 
 to her, I mought jest as well try to git her to stick her hed in the fire as to go to New 
 York. I never thought of them bominable abolitionists before, and I never was so 
 oudaciously put out with 'em. It was enough to make a man what was n't principled 
 agin swearin' cus like a trooper. Just to think, — everything reddy to start, and 
 then to have the whole bisness nocked rite in the hed by them devils." 
 
 " Well," ses Mary, '' thar 's a eend to my jurney to the North. I could n't think 
 of gwine a step without Prissy to take care of the child ; and spose I was to gi' 
 sick, too, way off 'mong strangers, — what would I do without Prissy?'' 
 
 "Oh! it would n't never do in the world," ses old Miss Stallins. 
 
 " But," ses Mr. Mountgomery, " you could git plenty of servants at the North 
 when you git thar." 
 
 ' What ! " ses Mary ; " trust my child with one of them good-for-nuthin' free 
 niggers? No, indeed! I wouldn't have one of *em about me, not for no consider- 
 ashun. I never did see one of "em what had any breedin', and they 're all too plagy 
 triflin' to take care of themselves, let alone doin' anything else" 
 
 " No ! but," ses the old man, " they 've got plen.y of white servants at the North, 
 what you can hire for little or nothing." 
 
 '■ Goodness gracious ! '" ses old Miss Stallins ; " white servants! Well, the Lord 
 knows I would n't have none of 'em 'bout me." 
 
 " Nor me, neither," ses Mary. " It may do well enuff for people what don't kuovr 
 
1 82 ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN LIFE. 
 
 the difference between niggers and white folks ; but I could never bear to see a 
 white gall toatin" my child about, and waitin" on me like a nigger. It would hurt 
 my conscience to keep anybody 'bout me in that condition, who was as white and 
 as good as me."' 
 
 '* That 's right, my child," ses old Miss Stallins ; '" no Christian lady could do no 
 such thmg, 1 don't care who they is '"' 
 
 I know'd the jig was up, and 1 was like the boy what the calf run over, — I did n't 
 have a word to say. 
 
 '* But," ses Mr. Mountgomery, " they 're brung up to it."' 
 
 " Well," ses Marj', " the more sin to them tliat brings "em up to be servants. A 
 servant, to be any account as a servant, has got to have a different kind of a spirit 
 from other people : and anybody that would make a nigger of a white child, because 
 it was pore, hain't got no Christian principle in "em." 
 
 " But," ses Mr. Mountgomery, "you know, Mrs. Jones, when you're in Rome 
 you must do as Rome does. If the Northern people choose to make niggers gentle- 
 men, and their own children servants, you can't help that, you know '' 
 
 " Yes ; but,'" ses Mary, " niggers is niggers, and white folks is white folks, and I 
 could n't bear to see neither of 'em out of ther proper places. So, if I 've got to 
 have white servants to wait on me, or stay at home, I "11 never go out of old Georgia 
 long as I live, that "s what I won't." 
 
 "Then, Mary," ses I, " is our journey to be busted up, shore enuff ?" 
 "O, no, Joseph; you can go, and I "11 stay home with mother. May be I won't 
 have many more summers to be with her, and I "d feel very bad afterwards, to think 
 I neglected her when she was with us." 
 
 The old woman put her arms round Mary's neck, and squeezed her til the tears 
 CDme into her eyes. 
 
 " My sweet, good daughter," ses she, " bless your dear hart; you always was so 
 kind to your pore old mother." 
 
 That made Mary cry a little ; and little Harry, thinkin' something was the matter, 
 sot up a squall, too, til his mother tuck iiim and talked to him a bit, and then Prissy 
 come and carried him in tother room. 
 
 I did n"t know what to do. I always hate terribly to be backed out of anything 
 what I "ve sot my mind on ; but to go to the North without takin' Mary along was 
 something I did n't like to think about. But then, after all my 'rangements was 
 made, and I 'd shuck hands and bid good-by to 'most everybody in Pineville, it was 
 too 'bominable bad to be disappointed that a-way. But after a while I told Mary 
 I 'd stay home, too, and go some other time. 
 
 " No, no, Joseph," ses she ; " I know you want to go, and I want to have you go, 
 cause it "d do you good to see the North, and git acquainted with the world. When 
 little Harry gits big enuff so he can take care of himself, then we can take a journey 
 together, in spite of the old abolitionists ; and then you "11 know all about the coun- 
 try, and it "11 be a great deal pleasanter for us all.'" 
 
 " That "s a fact ; Mrs. Jones is right, Majer,"' ses Mr. Mountgomery. " You "d 
 better leave your famly at home this time. You won't be gone more "n a month or 
 so, and I reckon Mrs. Jones ain't afraid to trust you that long "mong the Yanky 
 galls." 
 
 Mary blushed terrible. 
 " But," ses I — 
 
 " O ! you ain't 'fraid of her runnin" off with anybody fore you git back, is you? " 
 ses he. Then the old feller laughed like he would die 
 
 " Ain't you "shamed, Mr. Mountgomery, to talk that a-way? " ses Mary. 
 "You needn't be 'fraid of that, brother Joe,'' ses sister Calline- "for me and 
 Kizzy '11 watch her monstrous close while you 're gone 
 " Shaw," ses I ; " you can't make me jealous.'' 
 
MAJOR JONES'S TRAVELS. 183 
 
 "Nor me, neither,"' ses Mary. 
 
 Then old Mr. Mountgomery laughed till he knocked the fire out of his pipe all 
 over himself, and that sot the galls and all of "em to laughin" worse than ever. 
 
 But I tell you what, Mr. Thompson (and you're a married man and will blieve 
 what I say), I did n"t feel much like laughin' myself. I never did like this Yanky 
 way of married people livin" all over creation without seein' one another more "n 
 once in a coon's age; and the idee of gwine off and leavin' Mary for a whole 
 month tuck all the rinkles out of my face whenever I tried to laugh. But the 
 difficulty was, I could n't help myself. If I staid home, I could n't be contented 
 about it, and all the fellers Vf-ould be rigin me, "cause I couldn't leave my wife long 
 enough to go to the North. So I made up my mind to go anyhow, and make the 
 best I could of it. 
 
 Bimeby old Mr. Mountgomery 'lowed it was time to b ». gwine home ; so he bid 
 us good-by, and promised to come and see me off to morrow mornin'. 
 
 After :he old man was gone we all sot round the fire and talked the thing over in 
 a family way. Marj' looked monstrous serious, but she 's got too much good sense 
 to make a fuss "bout sich things. She ses I must rite to her every day, and I must 
 be very careful and not git shipracked or blowed up in any of the steambotes or 
 railrodes, and I must take care and not ketch no colds by exposin" myself in the 
 cold weather at the North, whar people, she ses, dies off with the consumption like 
 sheep does with the distemper. 
 
 All our trunks has got to be overhauled, and my things put by themselves, so I 
 can't start til to-morrow mornin'. I "m gwine as far as Augusty in my carriage, and 
 then take the railrode to Charlston. If no other botherment don't turn up to per- 
 vent, you shall hear from me on my Travels pretty soon. 
 
 I. 
 
 MAJOR JONES TAKES A PEEP AT THE (JOVERNMENT. 
 
 Washington City, May 19, 1845. 
 
 It \vas pretty late before I got up this mornin', 
 and then it was 'bout a o\ver before I found my \Yay 
 down stairs after I did git up. You hain't no idee 
 what a everlastin' heap of rooms and passages and 
 stairways ther is to these big hotels, and to a person 
 w^hat ain't use to '0.1)1 it 's 'bout as difficult to navi- 
 gate through 'em as it is to find one's way out of a 
 Florida hammock. 
 
 As soon as I got my breckfast I sot out for the 
 Capitol, what stands on the hill, at the upper eend 
 of the Avenue, as they call it, which is a grate wide 
 street runnin' rite through the middle of the city. 
 When I looked up to it, — from the street, — it 
 
184 ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN- LIFE. 
 
 seemed like it was n't more 'n twenty yards off, but 
 before I got to it I was pretty tired walkin'. The 
 gates was open, and I walked into the yard, and fol- 
 lered round the butiful paved walks til I cum to the 
 steps. The 3^ard round the bildin' is all laid off in 
 squares and dimonds, jest like Mary's flower-gar- 
 den, and is all sot out with trees. Rite in frunt of 
 the bildin', on the side towards the city, is a curious 
 kind of a monument, standin' in a basin of water, 
 with little babys and angels, all cut out of solid 
 marble, standin' all round on the corners of it, pintin' 
 up to a old eagle what looks like he 'd gone to roost 
 on the top of it. It 's a very pretty thing, and the 
 water what it stands in is full of little red fishes, 
 playin' all about as lively as tadpoles in a mill pond. 
 I looked at the monument sum time, and red sum of 
 the names on it, but sum I could n't make out, and 
 the rest I Ve forgot. 
 
 After gwine up two or three more pair of stone 
 stairs, I cum to the door of the Capitol. I could n't 
 see nobody about, so I nocked two or three times, 
 but nobody did n't answer. I waited awhile, and 
 then nocked agin with my stick, but nobody never 
 sed a word. Thinks I, they can't be home. But 
 the door was open ; so thinks I, I '11 go in and 
 see the bildin', anyhow. Well, in I went, and the 
 fust thing I met was two pair of stairs agin, both 
 gwine the same way. I tuck one of 'em, and after 
 gwine a little ways I cum to another green door. 
 Thinks I, it won't do to be too bold, or I mought 
 git into a fuss with the kitchen cabinet, and I knowd 
 a whig would n't find no frends thar. So I nocked 
 agin, louder and louder, but nobody answered 
 Well, thinks I, the government can't be to home, sure 
 
MAJOR JONES'S TRAVELS. 1 85 
 
 enuff, and I was jest thinkin' what a bominable shame 
 it was for them to neglect their bisness so, when 
 here cum a feller, what had whiskers all over his 
 face, with three or four galls, laughin' and gigglin' at 
 a terrible rate, and in they went, without ever 
 nockin' a lick. Well, thinks I, I 've got as good a 
 right here as anybody else what don't belong to the 
 administration, so in I follered into the Rotunda. 
 
 I tell you what, Mr. Thompson, this Rotunda is a 
 monstrous tall bildin' jest of itself. Why, you could 
 put the Pineville court-house inside of it, and it 
 would n't be in the way a bit. A full-grown man 
 don't look no bigger in it than a five-year-old boy, 
 and I cum very near nockin' a pinter dog in the hed 
 for a rat, he looked so little. The sides is all hung 
 round with picters, and over the doors ther is some 
 sculptures representin' William Penn swindlin' the 
 Injins out of ther land, and Columbus cumin' ashore 
 in his boat, and old Danel Boon killin' off the abo- 
 rignees with a butcher knife, and other subjects 
 more or less flatterin' to the national character. 
 The figers is all cramped up like they 'd been whit- 
 tled down to fit ther places, and don't look well to 
 my likin' at all. The places would be a great deal 
 better filled with single figers representin' our grate 
 generals and statesmen. The picters is very good, 
 and it 's worth a trip from Georgia to Washington 
 to see them great national paintins, the Signers of 
 the Declaration of Independence, the Surrender 
 of Cornwallis, Washington givin'up his Commission, 
 the Baptism of Pocahontas, and the Pilgrim Fathers 
 on board ther ship. I could looked at 'em a whole 
 day, but I had so much to see, and so little time 
 to spare, that I only gin 'em a passin' examination. 
 
1 86 ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN LIFE. 
 
 Bimeby I went up to a chap what was sitin' by 
 the door with a book in his hand, and ax'd him whar 
 the government was. 
 
 *' Who ? " ses he. 
 
 "The government," ses I, — '* Polk and Dallas." 
 
 "Oh," ses he, "the President is at home at his 
 house, I believe, but I don't know whar Mr. Dallas 
 is. 
 
 " Don't the President live here .^" ses I. 
 
 " No, J2>," ses he. "He lives in the White House 
 at the other eend of the Avenue. This is the Cap- 
 itol whar Congress sets, but it ain't in session now." 
 
 " Beg your pardon, sir," ses I, " I thought the 
 government all lived at the Capitol." 
 
 "Your a stranger here, then, it seems.'*" ses he. 
 " My business is to show strangers over the Cap- 
 itol. Do you wish to see it } " 
 
 " That 's jest what I cum here for," ses I, " and 
 I 'd like very much to see whar Congress makes 
 the laws." 
 
 " Very well," ses he, " jest foller me." 
 
 Well, he led the way and I follered, up stairs and 
 down, through passages and round pillars and cor- 
 ners, under arches and over roofs, through the Sen- 
 ate Chamber, the Hall of the Representatives, and 
 ever so many offices and committee rooms, til he 
 brung me out on the top of the dome. I never was 
 so high up in the world before. Thar was the " city 
 of magnificent distances," literaly stretched out at 
 my feet, and I looked dozvn upon the dignitaries 
 of the land. I was indeed elevated above Presi- 
 dents and Cabinets and Ministers of State. Houses 
 looked like martin-boxes, men looked no bigger than 
 seed-ticks, and carriages and horses went crawlin' 
 
MAJOR JONES'S TRAVELS. 1 8/ 
 
 along over the ground like a couple of ants clraggin' 
 a dead blue-bottle. The eye ranges over half the 
 nation ; Virginy and Maryland comes into the ten 
 miles square, and the Potomac looks like a little 
 branch runnin' through a meadow of trees ; while 
 the Tiber don't look no more like ''the angry Tiber 
 chafing with its shores," in which Julius C?esar and 
 Mr, Cassius went a swimmin' with ther clothes on, 
 than our duck pond does like the Atlantic Ocean. 
 
 Well, after takin' a good look from the dome, I 
 followed the man what keeps the Capitol down agin 
 into the Rotunda, and ax'd him what was to pay for 
 his trouble. " Nothing at all," ses he, and then he 
 told me whar the statues was on the eastern por- 
 tico, and pinted out the place whar they kept Mr, 
 Greenough's Washington. 
 
 jl went out on the portico, and what do you think, 
 Mr. Thompson ! the very first thing I seed waf^ a 
 woman without so much as a pettycoat on ! Not a 
 real live woman, but one cut out of marble, jest as 
 nateral as life itself, Thar she was, sort of half 
 standin' and half squattin' by the side of a man 
 dressed off in armor and holdin' a round ball in his 
 hand. At first I never was so tuck aback in my 
 life, and I looked all round to see if anybody wap 
 lookin' at me. I could n't help but look at it, though 
 it did make me feel sort o' shamed all alone by my- 
 self. Every now and then somebody would cum by, 
 and then I would walk off and look totherway. But 
 sumhow I could n't go away. The more I looked at 
 it the handsumer it got, til bimeby I seemed to for- 
 git every other thought in the contemplation of its 
 beauty, Ther was sumthing so chaste, and cold, 
 and pure about that beautiful figure, that I begun to 
 
1 88 ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN LIFE. 
 
 be in love with it, and I could n't help but think if 
 I was Columbus, and was n't marble myself, I 'd be 
 tempted to give her a hug now and then, if she was 
 a squaw. I went down off the portico, and took a 
 front view of it, and then I looked at it sideways, 
 and then I went up the steps and looked at it thar 
 agin, and every way it presented a image of beauty 
 to dream of years to come. Bimeby the galls what 
 I saw when I was nockin' at the door cum up with 
 that chap with the whiskers, and I backed out. 
 
 Ther is two other statues standin' on the east 
 frunt of the Capitol, one representin' the godess of 
 Peace, and the other General Mars, the god of War. 
 They are both very handsome. Mars carrys his hed 
 like a genewine South Carolina militia captain, and 
 Peace looks like she would n't hurt anybody for the 
 world ; but ther is something tame about 'em ; they 
 look somehow like they was cast in a mould. 
 
 After lookin' at them a while, I went out to the 
 bildin' what stands in the yard, and tuck a look at 
 Mr. Greenough's Washington ; and to tell you the 
 truth, I never was so disappinted in my life. This 
 statue has some terrible bad faults, and on first view, 
 before one has time to study and understand the de- 
 sign of the artist, creates anything but a favorable 
 impression. In the fust place the position is out of 
 keepin' with the character of Washington ; in the 
 second place, the costume is worse than the posi- 
 tion ; and in the next place, the mouth is not good, 
 and destroys the character and expression of the 
 face. Ther ain't nothing Washington about it, to 
 my notion. The idea of puttin' a Roman togy on 
 Gen. Washington is ridiculous ; as if he was n't 
 jest as much entitled to be a type of his age and 
 
MAJOR JONES'S TRAVELS. 189 
 
 generation as Julius Caesar or any other Roman 
 hero is of the age when ther was no tailors to make 
 coats. It made me feel bad when I looked up and 
 saw Washington's bare busum. The veneration 
 which Americans feel for the character of Washing- 
 ton is shocked at the exposure of that noble breast, 
 whose every throb was for his country. It seems 
 like a desecration to represent him in any other way 
 than as he was when he was alive ; and though ther 
 is something imposin' and grand in the artist's de- 
 sign, the effect is destroyed by the want of fidelity 
 to the character of the man. I tried my best to 
 overcum my prejudices agin the Washington, be- 
 cause it was a American work ; but it was no go, and 
 I went back and tuck another look at Columbus and 
 his Ingin gall, before I went down to my hotel. 
 
 After dinner, I went to see the President, up to 
 the White House, as they call it, what stands at the 
 other eend of the Avenue. All along the way the 
 hackmen kep settin' at me to ride in one of ther 
 carriages. It looked like only a little ways, and I 
 wanted to see the city as I went along ; but if I 
 stopped for a minit to explain to one of 'em, I was 
 sure to have a dozen of 'em round me at once, all 
 pullin' and haulin' at me, and cusin' one another 
 for everything you could think of. Washington 's 
 so bominably scattered all over creation that most 
 everybody rides, and these fellers think it 's a out- 
 rage on ther rights to see a gentleman walkin' in 
 the street. I cum mighty nigh gettin' into three or 
 four fights with 'em fore I got half way to the Presi- 
 dent's house. It was a monstrous long walk, and I 
 was terrible tired fore I got thar. What makes it 
 so deceivin' is, the Capitol at one eend, and the 
 
IQO ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN- LIFE. 
 
 White House at the other eend, of the wide street is 
 so large that one loses all idee of distances and pro- 
 portions. 
 
 When I got to the house, I nocked at the door, 
 and a gentleman opened it and told me to cum in. 
 
 " Good evenin', Mr. President," ses I. " I hope 
 yourself and famly is all well," offerin' him my hand 
 at the same time. 
 
 '* Good evenin', sir," ses the gentleman, givin' me 
 a real Georgia shake by the hand. " It's not Mr. 
 Polk your spakin' too," ses he, '* but no offense, sir ; 
 walk in." 
 
 " Why," ses I, *' don't the President live here } " 
 beginin' to think I never would find him. 
 
 " To be sure, sir ; this is the Prisident's house, 
 but it 's Cabinet day, and his excellency can't be 
 seen by strangers." 
 
 "Well, I 'm very sorry for that," ses I. 
 
 " And so am I," ses the gentleman. *' But," ses 
 he, *' since you can't see his excellency, you can have 
 the honor of taking a pinch of snuff wid his lagal 
 ripresintative ;" and with that, he poked his snuff-box 
 at me, and I tuck a pinch of his Irish blackguard, 
 that liked to put my neck out of jint a sneezin'. 
 
 As soon as I got over it a little, ses he, ** Walk 
 this way, sir, and I '11 show you through the public 
 rooms, if you would like to see them." 
 
 After walkin' about awhile we cum into the great 
 East Room, which is a real stylish place, you may 
 depend, with gold chairs, and marble tables, and the 
 richest kind of carpets, with lookin'-glasses clear 
 down to the floor. I knew that was the room whar 
 pore old General Harrison lay before he was buried, 
 so I ax'd the man if he know'd General Harrison. 
 
MAJOR JONES'S TRAVELS. 191 
 
 •*To be sure I did," ses he ; "I cum here in Gen- 
 eral Jackson's administrashun, and I 've bin here 
 iver since. Ah, sir ! " ses he, " General Harrison 
 was a great and good man. He was a true dimo- 
 crat, he was. We waked him here two davs in this 
 room, sir, and I shall niver, til the day of my deth, 
 forgit that melancholy sight. The gineral was none 
 of yer blarneyin' politicians, but a true man, sir. 
 When he cum to the White House I wint to him, 
 and ses I, ' Gineral, I 'm a dimocrat, and if I 'd had 
 a vote I 'd voted agin you, and now I 'm reddy to 
 give up my place.' ' Don't think of it, Martin,' ses 
 he ; ' 1 'm tould yer attentive and faithful in the dis- 
 charge of yer duties. I '11 need such a man about 
 me, and it 's not myself that '11 discharge any man 
 for his political opinions.' I kep my place, sir, but 
 the pore ould gintleman, rest his sowl, was n't spared 
 to keep his. He was kind to ivrybody 'bout him, 
 from the highest to the lowest. I used to walk out 
 wid him whin he was sick ; and if vou'd seen us to- 
 gither you could n't a tould which was the best dimo- 
 crat, the Prisident of the United States or his Irish 
 futman." 
 
 " Giv me yer hand, Martin," ses I ; " I 'm a Geor- 
 gia whig, and I 'm glad to hear you speak well of the 
 man I loved so much." 
 
 " Dimocrat or whig," ses he, " the truth 's all the 
 same. But are ye all the way from Georgia .'* " 
 
 "I am," ses I; ''my name is Jones, — Joseph 
 Jones of Pineville." 
 
 " Majer Joseph Jones .? " ses he. 
 
 " That 's my name when I 'm at home," ses I. 
 
 " Then giv me yer hand agin, Majer," ses he, " and 
 tell me how did you lave Mary and the baby ; how 
 
192 ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN LIFE. 
 
 is little Henry Clay Jones, and the good wife ? Faith, 
 I've red yer book, Majer," ses he, " and I'm rite 
 glad to make yer acquaintance. Will you take an- 
 other pinch of snuff ? " ses he. 
 
 " No, I thank you, sir," ses I ; '* I ain't much used 
 to snuffin'." 
 
 ''Well, no matter for that, Majer," ses he, "if it 
 don't agree wid you ; I know you used to chew to- 
 bacco. But you see I 'm a bit of a litterary man 
 myself, and I 'm writin' a jurnal of my life in the 
 White House, for these last fifteen years. Now what 
 do you think of the idee, Majer .-^ " 
 
 Then he went into a description of his book, and 
 you may depend it 's gwine to be one of the most in- 
 terestin' books ever published in this country. You 
 know Martin 's bin jest as familiar as a mushstick 
 with the Kitchen Cabinets under General Jackson, 
 Mr. Van Buren, Captain Tyler, and Mr. Polk, — he 
 knows evry politician in the country, and all ther 
 tricks and intrigues ; and it '11 be monstrous strange 
 if a man of as much natural smartness as Martin, 
 with sich opportunities, could n't pick up enuff ma- 
 terials in fifteen years to make a interestin' book. I 
 told him I thought he had a fortune by the tail, if 
 he 'd only hang on to it, and not let anybody git it 
 away from him. He gin me a Irish wink, as much 
 as to say he was n't quite so green, and after a little 
 more chat 'bout literature, politics, and matters and 
 things in general, I bid him good-by, and went back 
 to my hotel. And here I must drap my pen for the 
 present. So no more from 
 
 Your friend, till death, Jos. Jones. 
 
MAJOR JONES'S TRAVELS. 1 93 
 
 II. 
 
 THE MONUMENTAL CITY. 
 
 Baltimore, May 21, 1845. 
 
 I left off my last letter whar I went to my hotel. 
 Well, after tea I red the papers a little while, and 
 then went out and tuck a walk by moonlight to see 
 the city. I straggled round all over the place with- 
 out payin' much attention whar I went, lookin' at 
 the public bildins and fine-dressed ladies and gen- 
 tlemen what was in the streets, til the fust thing I 
 know'd I found myself at the gate in frunt of the 
 Capitol. Thar it was agin, with its stupendous white 
 walls, and its monstrous high, dark dome, standin' in 
 the bright moonlight, loomin' up agin the heavens, 
 vast, majestic, and sublime, like the stone mountain 
 in De Kalb County. It did n't seem possible sich 
 a everlastin' pile could be bilt with hands ; and I 
 could almost imagine it was sum inchanted castle, 
 and that the goblins and fairys was caperin' and 
 dancin' in the Rotunda at that very minit. 
 
 I tuck a seat on the stone steps, and looked up at 
 it as it stood out agin the blue, star-bespangled sky. 
 Thinks I, this is the hed of the nation, the place 
 whar Uncle Sam does his thinkin' ; and with that I 
 got to ruminatin' 'bout the falibility of national wis- 
 dom as well as individual judgment. Public men, 
 thinks I, is like idees : sumtimes they 's good, and , 
 sumtimes they 's monstrous bad ; and when they 
 git into the Capitol at Washington, they 're jest like 
 thoughts in a man's hed, and make the nation do a 
 monstrous silly thing or a very sensible thing, jest 
 
 13 
 
I 94 ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN LIFE. 
 
 as they happen to be wise or foolish. If ther 's any 
 truth in the science of frenology, it must effect the 
 Capitol in the same way it does a man's skull, and I 
 don t doubt that a rite scientific Yankee professor 
 could discover the bumps by feelin' the walls of the 
 bildin', and could tell what organ was developed the 
 most. Lately the organ of secretiveness has been 
 pretty strongly developed, and sense we 've pocketed 
 Texas, ther ain't no tellin' whar we '11 stop. Com- 
 battiveness, too, which is very prominent, if you no- 
 tice the projections on the north and south side of 
 the dome, is very active ; and I would n't be much 
 surprised if we was to lick sum nation like blazes 
 before long. If it was n't for the excess of venera- 
 tion which is indicated by the fullness of the dome 
 on the top, we 'd been monstrous apt to pitch'd into 
 John Bull before now. Too much veneration is a 
 very bad fault, but may be it 's all the better whar 
 there 's so much combattiveness. I ain't much of a 
 frenologist myself, or I 'd go on and give you a full 
 description of Uncle Sam's knowledge-box. I think 
 ther ought to be a scientific committee appinted 
 evry session to make out a complete chart of its 
 bumps, so the people might know what to depend on. 
 I could n't leave the Capitol 'thout gwine round 
 and takin' one more look at the Ingin gall on the 
 east portico. Like all butiful wimen, she looked 
 handsumer in the soft, pale moonlight than she did 
 in the daytime. The outlines and shadows was not 
 so hard ; ther was sumthing dreamy and indistinct 
 about her form, and the 'magination was allowed 
 a freer scope in givin' the finishin' touches to the 
 picter. You know all that is necessary to create in 
 the mind a image of buty is the mere idee of a 
 
MAJOR JONES'S TRAVELS. 195 
 
 woman, with a object for the 'magination to work on. 
 Ther are certain times when a man's 'magination 
 will make a angel out of a bed-post. Well, as I 
 gazed at her, she seemed to becum livin' flesh and 
 blood ; and, as she looked at Columbus, stoopin* 
 ov^er, with her hands raised in a attitude of wunder, 
 I almost fancied I could hear her say, " Christofer ! 
 why don't you speak to me .'* " I tuck a long, long 
 look at her, and then went to the hotel to dream of 
 Mary. 
 
 In the mornin', as soon as I got my breckfust, I 
 went to see the Nashunal Institute, whar they told 
 me the government kep all its curiosities. Since as 
 they had n't the politeness to tell me to cum in when 
 I nocked at the dore of the Capitol yesterday, I tuck 
 it for granted the government was too democratic 
 republican to stand on ceremony; so I didn't nock 
 this time, but jest walked rite in. Well, when I got 
 up-stairs, the fust room I got into was the Patent 
 Office, whar, the Lord knows, I seed more Yankee 
 contraptions of one kind and another than ever I 
 thought ther was in the known world. Ther was 
 more 'n five hundred thousand models, all piled up 
 in great big glass cages, with ther names writ on 
 'em, rangin' from steam saw-mills down to mouse- 
 traps. Ther was ingines, wind-mills, and water- 
 wheels ; steam-botes, ships, bridges, cotton-gins, and 
 thrashin'- machines ; printin'-presses, spinnin' -gin- 
 nies, weavin'-looms, and shingle-splinters ; all on a 
 small scale. But it would take a whole letter to give 
 vou the names of one half of 'em. I did n't under- 
 stand much about 'em, and so I went into another 
 room, whar they had a everlastin' lot of shells, and 
 stones, and ores, and fish, and birds, and varmints, 
 
196 ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN LIFE. 
 
 and images, and so forth, what was brung home from 
 the North Pole, by the explorin' expedition. I spose, 
 to sum people, what can find ** sermons in stones 
 and good in anything," these things, what cost the 
 government so much to git 'em, would be very in- 
 terestin' ; but I hain't got quite fur enuff in the 
 ologies for that yet ; so I went into another apart- 
 ment, whar they keep the relics of the Revolution 
 and other curiosities. This is the most interestm' 
 part of the show, and contains a heap of things that 
 must always be objects of the deepest interest to 
 Americans. 'Mong the rest is General Washing- 
 ton's military cote ; the same cote that has been 
 gazed on by so many millions of adorin' eyes, when 
 it enveloped the form of the great father of his 
 country. It made me have very strange feelins to 
 look upon General Washington's clothes ; it caused 
 in my mind the most familiar impression of that 
 great man I had ever felt, and which no paintin' or 
 statue could ever give. I was lookin' upon what 
 had been a portion of the real, livin' Washington ; 
 and I almost felt as if I was in his presence. Close 
 by hung the sword, and below was the camp-chest 
 what he used in the war of the Revolution. What 
 a sight ! to behold in one glance the garment that 
 sheltered his sacred person, the provision-chest, 
 cracked and shattered in the great conflict, and the 
 sword with which he won for us the blessmgs of 
 liberty, which we enjoy. How many thousands, in 
 centuries to come, will look upon the remains of 
 these sacred relics, and bless the memory of the 
 great and good man ! 
 
 Not far from Washington's cote, in a case by it- 
 self, is the cote what General Jackson wore at the 
 
MAJOR JONES'S TRAVELS. 197 
 
 battle of New Orleans. I stopped and looked at it 
 with feelins of sincere veneration. Few would sup- 
 pose the victory of New Orleans was won in sich a 
 coarse cote ; but it is like the lion-harted hero who 
 wore it, — corse, strong, and honest, without tinsel 
 or false gloss. It looks like the General, and will 
 be preserved as a priceless relic of the brave old 
 patriot, whose days are now drawin' to a close. I 
 never voted for General Jackson, cause I thought 
 his politics was wrong ; but I always believed him 
 to be a honest man and a true patriot, and I don't 
 blieve ther 's a lokyfoky in the land that 's prouder 
 of his fame, or will hear of his deth with more un- 
 feigned sadness. 
 
 Ther 's a heap of other curiosities in this part of 
 the bildin', that is well worth the attention of the 
 visiter. Among the rest is General Washington's 
 Commisshun, and the original Declaration of Inde- 
 pendence, besides treaties in all sorts of outlandish 
 languages, and guns and pistols and swords, all cov- 
 ered with gold and diamonds, that have been made 
 presents to our government from foreign powers. 
 Ther's a heap of Ingin picters, and among 'em some 
 portraits of the Seminole chiefs, what fit us so hard 
 a few years ago. I seed old Alligator settin' up 
 thar, as dignified as a turky-cock in a barnyard, and 
 I could n't help but think of the time I seed the old 
 feller fall off a log into the St. Johns with all his 
 fancy rigins on, and a jug of rum in his hand. 
 Ther's sum very good likenesses among the Ingin 
 portraits, but they 've got sum of the triflinest fel- 
 lers in the whole nation settin' up thar as grand as 
 Mogulls. 
 
 After lookin' at the other picters, and busts, and 
 
198 ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN LIFE. 
 
 Statues (and ther 's sum butiful things among 'em), 
 I went down into the lower story, and thar I saw 
 the irrate Sarcofairus what Commodore Elliott brung 
 over from Egypt to bury General Jackson in. I 
 don't blame the old General for backin' out from 
 any sich arrangement. In the fust place, I don't 
 think it in very good taste for to be in too big a 
 hurry to provide a coffin for a man before he 's ded ; 
 and in the next place, I 've got no better opinion of 
 old second-hand coffins than I have of second-hand 
 boots. I 'd a grate deal rather walk in the footsteps 
 of a dozen livin', illustrious predecessors than to fill 
 the coffin of one ded King Fareo. No, indeed ; the 
 old hero is too much of a proud-spirited republican 
 for that ; he 's not gwine to lay his bones in a place 
 whar sum bominable old heathen king has rotted 
 away, before, and I glory in him for it. Such men 
 as Jackson finds a sarcofagus in every true patriot's 
 heart, that will preserve his memory, from genera- 
 tion to generation, to the eend of time. 
 
 After gettin' out of Uncle Sam's curiosity shop, I 
 went out into his flower-garden, what is kep in a 
 long, low house, with a glass roof. It 's got about 
 five hundred kinds of cactuses in it, and that's about 
 all. True, ther 's a good many little bushes and 
 weeds, with monstrous hard names, and sum few 
 with flowers on 'em, but Mary's flower-garden at 
 home would beat it all holler for buty and variety. 
 
 I tuck a walk round by the Post Office, and up to 
 the War Department and the President's house. 
 The new Post Office, the National Institute, and the 
 War Department is most magnificent bildins, of 
 grayish, coarse stone ; and if they don't paint 'em, 
 like they have the Capitol and the President's house, 
 
MAJOR JONES'S TRAVELS, 1 99 
 
 they '11 look ancient enuff to suit the fancy of Mr. 
 Dickens, or anybody else who never saw a new 
 country before, and who think none of the rest of 
 the world ain't fit to live in, cause it ain't as old and 
 musty as London. 
 
 By the time I got down to Gadsby's I was pretty 
 tired ; and after eatin' a fust rate dinner, I got reddy 
 to go to Baltimore. I paid my bill, which was very 
 little, I thought, for sich comfortable livin', and got 
 my trunks all packed and reddy sum time before the 
 cars started. 
 
 Bimeby long cum the omnibus and tuck my trunks ; 
 but the depo was so close that I jest fit my way 
 through the hack drivers to the cars, without any 
 serious accidents. It was a very plesant afternoon, 
 and ther was ever so many ladys an(^ gentlemen in 
 the cars, gwine to Baltimore, and among 'em sum 
 of the most outlandish specimens of human nater I 
 ever met with. I thought I 'd seed whiskers and 
 bustles before, but I find the further north I git the 
 bigger they grow. After a while the bell rung, and 
 away we went, the houses, Capitol, and all waltzin' 
 round behind us, til we was out of sight of the city ; 
 and the posts of Professor Morse's telegraph, as 
 they call it, gettin' closer and closer together the 
 faster we went. 
 
 But now the scene is very different from what it 
 is on the Carolina, or even the Virginy rodes. The 
 woods is in little patches, and the fields is smaller, 
 and the houses and towns is thicker. The country 
 is more uneven, and evry mile changes the scenery, 
 and gives one sumthing new to look at. The track, 
 too, is even as a die, and the cars go like lightnin' 
 and as easy as a rockin'-chair. One minit we was 
 
200 ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN LIFE. 
 
 whirlin' along between butiful farms, in the next we 
 darted into a cut whar the banks shut out the view, 
 and perhaps the next we was crossin' over sum buti- 
 ful valley on a bridge, with mills and houses and 
 people far below us. We passed lots of hoses and 
 cattle, and sum of 'em would twist up ther tails and 
 giv us a race, but we went so fast that nothin' could 
 n't keep up with us but the wire lightnin' conduc- 
 tors of the telegraph, which kep us cumpany all the 
 way. It 's only 'bout forty miles from Washington 
 to Baltimore, and I had n't begun to git tired before 
 the monuments and steeples and towers of the city 
 begun to show themselves in the distance, gittin' 
 nearer and nearer, til we was rite in among 'em. 
 
 When we got to the depo in the edge of the city, 
 they unhitched^ the lokymotive, and hitched on sum 
 hoses, that pulled us away down into the centre of 
 the city to the railrode office. I could find enuff 
 for twenty pair of eyes to do, lookin' at this butiful 
 city. I had n't no idee it was half so large or half 
 so handsum. But I had no time to give it more 'n 
 a glimpse before we was at the stoppin' place, and 
 in the middle of another regiment of whips, all pull- 
 in' and haulin', and axin' me to go this way and 
 tother, til I did n't hardly know which eend I stood 
 on. 
 
 Bimeby one very civil little man, with a piece of 
 painted lether on his hat, ses to me, ses he, ** Sir, 
 giv me yer checks for yer baggage, and I '11 take ye 
 to the Exchange Hotel, a very good house, sir." It 
 was Hobson's choice with me, for I did n't know one 
 house from tother, so I jest handed him over the 
 tins, and he went to look out for my baggage. While 
 I was waitin* for him a reinforcement of hackmen 
 
MAJOR JONES'S TRAVELS. 201 
 
 got round me, and insisted on takin' me to the Ex- 
 change. Well, I was like the gall what married the 
 chap to git rid of him, and I got into the fust hack 
 and druv off. I was n't more 'n seated, fore we was 
 at the dore of a grate big stone house, with a dome 
 on the top of it like the Capitol at Washington, what 
 the feller sed was the Exchange Hotel. After I got 
 out I ax'd the driver how much was to pay. " A 
 quarter," ses he. I pulled out my purse and paid 
 him, but if I 'd know'd it was no further I 'd seed 
 him to Ballyhack fore I 'd got into his hack, that 's 
 certain. 
 
 Soon as I got in the hotel the man in the office 
 laid a big book out before me and gin me a pen. I 
 know'd what he ment, so I put my name down, — 
 Jos. Jones, Pineville, Geo., as plain as a pike-staff. 
 I had n't more 'n finished writin' my name before 
 here cum the man with my trunks, and in a minit 
 after I found myself up stairs in No. 2^, whar I am 
 now writin' to you, and whar I expect to remain for 
 a day or two. I mean to go to bed early to-night, 
 and take a fresh start in the mornin' to look at Bal- 
 timore. So no more from 
 
 Your friend till death, Jos. Jones. 
 
 III. 
 
 THE major's adventures IN BALTIMORE. 
 
 No. 27, Exchange Hotel, 
 
 Baltimore, May 21, 1845. 
 
 I waked up this mornin' bright and early, but I 
 felt so monstrous tired that I did n't git rite out of 
 bed. Well, while I was layin' thar, lookin' round 
 
202 ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN LIFE. 
 
 the room at the fine furniture, — at the splendid ma 
 hogany burow and wardrobe, the marble-top'd wash- 
 stand, and the cast-iron fire-place, and a heap of 
 other curious fixins, — I seed a green cord with a 
 tossel on the eend of it, hangin' down by the hed of 
 my bed. Thinks I that must be to pull the winder 
 blinds, to let the light in, and as it was rayther dark I 
 tuck hold of it and pulled it easy two or three times; 
 but the thing seemed to be hitched sumwhar, and 
 the blinds did n't move a bit. I was n't more 'n done 
 pullin' it before sumbody nocked at my dore, and as 
 I did n't know who it mought be I covered up good, 
 and ses I, " Cum in." 
 
 A nigger feller opened the dore, and stood thar for 
 'bout a minit, lookin' at me like he wanted sumthing, 
 'thout sayin' a word. 
 
 " Well, buck," ses I, " what 's the matter } " begin- 
 nin' to think he had a monstrous sight of imper- 
 ence. 
 
 ** I cum to see what the gemmen wants," ses he. 
 
 "Well," ses I, '* I don't want nothin'." 
 
 He looked sort o' sideways at me and put out. 
 
 After studyin' a bit to try to make out what upon 
 yeath could brung him to my room, I put my hand 
 out and tried the curtains agin ; and the fust thing 
 I know'd here cum the same chap back agin. 
 
 This time I looked at him pretty sharp, and ses I, 
 ** What upon yeath do you mean .? " 
 
 With that he begun bowin' and scrapin' and 
 scratchin' his hed, and ses he, "Didn't you ring, 
 sir.'' 
 
 " Ring what.'' " ses I. 
 
 ** Your bell," ses he. 
 
 I was bep'nnin' to git pretty considerable riled. 
 
MAJOR JONES'S TRAVELS. 203 
 
 and ses I, " I don't carry no bell, but I can jest tell 
 you what it is, my buck : if you go to cumin' any 
 of yer free nigger nonsense over me, I '11 ring yer 
 cussed neck off quicker 'n lightnin'." 
 
 And with that I started to git out of the bed, but 
 ther was no nigger thar when my feet tetched the 
 floor. 
 
 It was too dark to dress, so I tuck another pull or 
 two at the blinds ; and while I was puUin' and jerkin' 
 at 'em, here cums another big nigger, to know what 
 I wanted. By this time I begun to spicion thar was 
 sumthing rong ; and shore enuff, cum to find out, 
 I 'd been pullin' a bell rope all the time, what kep 
 up a terrible ringin' down stairs, though I could n't 
 hear the least sign of it myself. I 'd seed them 
 things hangin' round in the rooms at the Charles- 
 ton Hotel, and at Gadsby's, but I never know'd 
 what they was before. Well, thinks I, live and 
 larn. I '11 know a bell rope when I see it agin. 
 
 After findin' my way down stairs I went in the 
 t)arber's room and got shaved, and I do blieve, if it 
 had n't been so early in the mornin', I should went 
 spang to sleep while Billy was takin' my beard off. 
 That feller 's a real magnetiser ; and he goes through 
 the bisness so easy that you can't hardly tell whether 
 he 's usin' the brush or the razor ; and by the time 
 he 's done, your face is so smooth that it takes a 
 pretty good memory to remember whether you ever 
 had any beard or not. After brushin' and combin' 
 a little, I went out into the readin'-room and looked 
 over the papers til breckfust. 
 
 I was settin' on the sofa readin' in the National 
 Intelligencer, when the fust thing I know'd I thought 
 the whole roof of the bildin' was cumin' down on 
 
204 ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN LIFE. 
 
 top of my hed. Whow ! row ! whow-wow ! went 
 sumtbing like the very heavens and yeath was 
 cumin' together. I could n't hear myself think, and 
 I was makin' for one of the winders as fast as I 
 could, when the everlastin' rumpus stopped. I ax'd 
 sumbody what in the name of thunder it was. " O, 
 you need n't be larmed," ses he, " it 's nothin' but 
 the breckfust gong." I was jest about as wise then 
 as I was before, but I know'd it had sumthing to do 
 with breckfust, and my appetite soon cum back to 
 me agin. 
 
 You know I always used to drink coffee, and I 'm 
 monstrous fond of it yet ; but bein' as I did n't feel 
 very well this mornin', when the waiter ax'd me 
 which I *d have, I sed ** tea." 
 
 " Black or green } " ses he. 
 
 I looked at the feller, and ses I, " What } " 
 
 '' Will you have black or green tea } " ses he. 
 
 I did n't know whether he was projectin' with me 
 or not, so ses I, " I want a cup of tea, jest plain tea, 
 without no fancy colorin' about it." 
 
 That settled the bisness, and in a minit he brung 
 me a grate big cup of tea that looked almost as 
 strong as coffee ; but it was monstrous good, and I 
 made out a fust rate breckfust. 
 
 After breckfust I tuck a walk out to see the city, 
 and shore enuff it is a city ! Gracious knows, I 
 thought Charleston, and Richmond, and Washing- 
 ton was big enuff, but Baltimore lays 'em all in the 
 shade. It ain't only a long ways ahed of 'em all in 
 pint of size, but it 's a monstrous sight the hand- 
 sumest. The streets is wide enuff, and then ther 
 ain't no two of them alike, and evry corner you turn 
 gives you a new view, as different from the other as 
 
MAJOR JONES'S TRAVELS. 20$ 
 
 if you was in another city. Monuments and steeples, 
 and minarets and towers, and domes and columns, 
 and piazzas and porticos, and pillars of all orders, 
 sizes, and heights, is constantly changin' before you; 
 and the ground rises and falls in butiful hills and 
 hollers, as if it tried to do its share towards givin* 
 variety and buty to the view. Baltimore Street is 
 the principal street, and you may depend it 's got a 
 heap of fine stores on it. 
 
 After takin' a good stretch on Baltimore Street, 
 lookin' at the picter shops and show-winders, I struck 
 out into Calvert Street, whar the monument stands 
 what was raised to the brave fellers what licked the 
 British at the battle of North Pint, in the last war. 
 It 's a good deal bigger than the Naval Monument 
 at Washington, and, to my notion, it 's a grate deal 
 handsomer. Its proportions is good, and the de- 
 sign is very butiful. 
 
 After takin' a good look at the monument, I 
 walked along down by sum fine large brick houses 
 with marble porticos to 'em, and winder-glasses so 
 clean you mought see yer face in 'em, lookin' back 
 now and then at the woman on top of the monu- 
 ment, when the fust thing I know'd I got a most 
 alfired skeer, that made me jump clear off the side- 
 walk into the street, before I know'd what I was 
 about. "■ Get out ! " ses I, at a cussed grate big 
 fierce-lookin' dog upon one of the porticos, that 
 looked like he was gwine to take rite hold of me. 
 " Seize him, Tiger ! " ses a chap what was gwine by, 
 laughin', and I raised my stick quicker 'n lightnin', 
 but the dog never moved a peg. Cum to find out, 
 it was nothin' but a statue of a dog made out of 
 stone or iron, put up thar to watch the dore and 
 
20b ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN LIFE. 
 
 keep off house-brakers, I spose. I got over my 
 skare and went along, but I could n't help thinkin' 
 it was monstrous bad taste to have sich a fierce- 
 lookin' thing standin' rite before a body's dore that- 
 away. If he was lyin' down asleep he 'd look jest 
 as natural, and would n't be apt to frighten anybody 
 out of ther senses fore they know'd what it was. 
 
 Bimeby I cum to a open place, with a butiful lit- 
 tle temple standin' back in the yard, under the 
 trees, and over the gate was a sign what sed " City 
 Springs." Well, as I felt pretty dry by this time, I 
 thought I 'd go in and git sum water. When I got 
 to the house what was standin' over the spring on 
 butiful round pillars, and was gwine down the white 
 stone steps, I seed a whole heap of galls down thar, 
 playin' and dabblin' in the water, and sprinklin' and 
 splashin' one another, and laughin' and carryin' on 
 like the mischief. I 'd heard a grate deal about 
 Baltimore buty, and I thought I 'd jest take a peep 
 at 'em while they did n't see me, and when they 
 was n't suspectin' anybody was lookin' at 'em. Well, 
 thar they was, five or six of 'em, all 'bout sixteen 
 and seventeen, with ther butiful faces flushed up, 
 and ther dark eyes sparklin' with excitement, while 
 ther glossy ringlets, in which the crystal water glit- 
 tered like dimonds, fell in confusion over ther white 
 necks and shoulders. They was butiful young cre- 
 ters ; and as I leaned over the wall, lookin' down on 
 'em as they was wrestlin' and jumpin' and skippin' 
 about as graceful as young fawns, I almost thought 
 they w^as real water-nymphs, and I was 'fraid to 
 breathe hard for fear they mought hear me and dart 
 into the fountains. Bimeby one of 'em, that was 
 scufflin' for life to keep two more of 'em from given 
 
MAJOR JONES'S TRAVELS. 20/ 
 
 her a duckin', happened to look up. The next minit 
 thar was a general squeelin' and grabbin' up of sun- 
 bonnets, and away they went up tother flight of 
 steps. I did n't want 'em to think I 'd been watch- 
 in' 'em, so I went rite down to the spring, like I had 
 jest cum for a drink of water. Ther was three fount- 
 ains all in a row, and on each side of the fountains 
 was two iron ladles hangin' chained to the wall. I 
 tuck up the one on the right, and was holdin' it 
 under the spout on that side, when I heard the galls 
 gigglin' and laughin' up on the steps, whar they was 
 rangin' ther dresses. I could n't help but look 
 round, when I saw one of the prettyest pair of spark- 
 lin' eyes lookin' over the wall at me that I have 
 seed sense I left home. " The middle fountain 's the 
 best, sir," ses one of the sweetest voices in the world. 
 I did n't wait to think, but jest cause she sed so I 
 jerked the ladel v/hat was already runnin' over, to- 
 wards the middle spout, when kerslosh went the 
 water all over my feet, and the ladel went rattle- 
 teklink agin the walls whar it was chained. Sich 
 another squall as they did give I never heard before, 
 and away they all scampered, laughin' fit to die at 
 me. The fact was the chain was n't long enuff to 
 reach to the middle fountain nohow, even if the 
 water was any better, which I ought to know'd was 
 all gammon. 
 
 From the City Springs I went to the Washington 
 monument, what stands at the hed of Charles Street. 
 This is another butiful structure, which, while it 
 commemorates the fame of the greatest man what 
 ever lived on the face of the yeath, reflects honor on 
 the patriotism and liberality of Baltimoreans. At 
 the dore ther was a old gentleman, who ax'd me if I 
 
208 ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN LIFE. 
 
 wanted to go up on the monument. I told him I 'd 
 like to very well, if ther was no danger. He sed 
 ther was n't the least in the world ; so, after payin' 
 him a seven-pence and writin' my name in a big 
 book, he gin me a lamp, and I started up the steps, 
 what jest kep runnin' round and round like a screw- 
 auger. Up, up I went, and kep a gwine til I thought 
 my legs would drap off me. Evry now and then I 
 stopped and tuck a blow, and then pushed on agin, 
 til bimeby I got to the top, whar ther is a dore to 
 go out on the outside. 
 
 From that place I could see all over the city, and 
 for miles round the country ; and, to tell you the 
 truth, I could n't hardly blieve my own eyes, when 
 I saw so many houses. The ground seemed to be 
 covered with bricks for miles ; and every here and 
 thar some tall steeple or lofty dome shot up from 
 the dark mass of houses below. Streets was run- 
 nin' in every direction, and carriages and hoses and 
 peeple was all movin' about in 'em, like so many 
 ants on a ant-hill. Away off to the southeast I could 
 see the dome of the Exchange Hotel, and a little 
 further was the blue arms of the Patapsco, covered 
 with white sails, gwine in and out of the harbor ; 
 while the naked masts of the vessels at the wharves 
 and in the basin looked like a corn-field jest after 
 fodder-pullin' time. I could see " the star-spangled 
 banner" on the walls of old Fort Mackhenry, still 
 wavin' " over the land of the free and the home of 
 the brave," as proudly as it did on that glorious night 
 when 
 
 " The rocket's red glare, and bums bustin' in air, 
 Gave proof thrugh the night that our flag was still thar," 
 
 and I could n't keep from singin', *' O, long may it 
 wave ! " etc. 
 
MAJOR JONES'S TRAVELS. 209 
 
 By the time I got down from the monument it 
 was two o'clock, and I begun to have a pretty gocd 
 appetite agin. I made out to git back to the Ex- 
 change, by enquirin' the way 'bout twenty times ; 
 and pretty soon after I got thar that everlastin' gong 
 rung agin, and we all went in to dinner. I never 
 seed sich a handsum table in all my life before. It 
 was long enuff for a fourth of July barbacue, and all 
 dressed out like a weddin'-supper. Evrything looked 
 in order, like a army formed in line of battle. The 
 plattoons of ivory-handled knives, and silver forks, 
 and cut-glass goblets, and wine-glasses, was all 
 ranged in two long columns on each side, with a 
 napkin standin' at each place like a file-closer, 
 crimped up as handsum and lookin' as white and 
 fresh as a water-lilly. In the middle was the bag- 
 gage-train, which was made up of a long row of 
 bright covers, with elegant silver casters and tu- 
 reens, large glass vases full of sallary, and lots of 
 other dishes. I felt jest like I was gwine into bat- 
 tle ; and whether Mr. Dorsey, like Lord Nelson, 
 expected every man to do his duty or not, I was ter- 
 mined to do mine. Well, the table was soon sur- 
 rounded, and then the attack commenced. It was a 
 terrible carnage. The knives and forks rattled like 
 small arms, the corks popped like artillery, and the 
 shampane flew like blood at evry discharge. Gen- 
 eral Jennings manoovered his troops fust rate, car- 
 ryin' off the killed and wounded as fast as possi- 
 ble and supplyin' ther places with reinforcements of 
 fresh dishes. He had a regular Wellington army, 
 made up of English, French, American, German, 
 Itallian, and all kinds of dishes ; but, like Napoleon 
 at Waterloo, he was doomed to come out second 
 
 14 
 
2IO ODDITIES IN SOUTHER M LIFE. 
 
 best, and in a short time his splendid army was cut 
 to pieces, routed, dispersed, and demolished, horse, 
 foot, and dragoons, or rather roast, boiled, and 
 stewed. 
 
 You know I 've fit the Ingins in Florida, and can 
 stand my hand as well as the next man in a bush 
 fight, but I never was in jest sich a engagement be- 
 fore, and I made rather a bad job of it in the begin- 
 nin'. I had n't more 'n swallered my soup when here 
 cums a nigger pokein' a piece of paper at me, which 
 he sed was a bill. Thinks I, they 're in a monstrous 
 hurry 'bout the money, so I told him I had n't time 
 to look it over then. The feller looked and grinned 
 like he did n't mean no offence, and ax'd me what 
 I 'd be helped to. Well, I know'd they did n't have 
 no bacon and collards, so I told him to bring me a 
 piece of roast beef. By the time I got fairly gwine 
 on my beef, Mr. Dorsey cum in and tuck a seat at 
 the eend of the table not far from me, and ax'd me 
 how I was pleased with Baltimore. I told him very 
 well,- and was passin' a word or two with him, when 
 the fust thing I know'd my plate was gone, and 
 when I turned round to look for it the nigger poked 
 the bill at me agin. I begun to think that was car- 
 ryin' the joke a leetle too fur, and ses I, — 
 
 '' Look here, buck ; I told you once I had n't no 
 time to tend to that now, and I 'd like to know what 
 in the devil's name you tuck my plate away for ! " 
 
 " What '11 you be helped to } " ses he, like he 
 did n't understand me. 
 
 *' I ax'd for sum beef," ses I, " but " — and be- 
 fore I could 2:it it out he was off, and in a minit he 
 brung me another plate of roast beef. 
 
 Well, by the time I got it salted to my likin', and 
 
" Sum more beef," ses I. See page 211. 
 
MAJOR JONES'S TRAVELS. 211 
 
 while I was takin' a drink of water, away it went 
 agin. I jest made up my mind I would n't stand no 
 such nonsense any longer, so I waited til he brung 
 me a clean plate agin, and ax'd me what I wanted. 
 
 "Sum more beef," ses I, 
 
 I kep my eyes about me this time, and shore enuff, 
 the moment I turned to nod to sum gentlemen what 
 Mr. Dorsey introduced me to, one of the niggers 
 made a grab at my plate. But I was too quick for 
 him that time. 
 
 •' Stop ! " ses I. 
 
 " Beg pardon, sir," ses he ; *' I thought you wanted 
 another plate." 
 
 '* I 've had enuff plates for three or four men 
 already," ses I ; " and now I want sunt dinner." 
 
 *' Very well, sir," ses he ; *' what '11 you have t " 
 
 " What 's your name .'' " ses I. 
 
 " Hansum, sir," ses he. 
 
 Thinks I, you was n't named for yer good looks, 
 then, that 's certain ; but I never let on. 
 
 *' Well, Hansum," ses I, " I want you to jest keep 
 a eye on my plate, and not let anybody grab it off 
 til I 'm done with it, and then I '11 tell you what I 
 want next." 
 
 Just then Mr. Dorsey called him to him and sed 
 sumthing in his ear, and here he cum with Mr. Dor- 
 sey's compliments and a bottle of shampane, and 
 €lled one of my glasses, and then tuck his stand so 
 he could watch my plate, grinnin' all the time like 
 he 'd found a mare's nest or sumthing. 
 
 The plan worked fust rate, and after that I got a 
 fair showin' at the beef. Then I ax'd Hansum what 
 else ther was, and he brung me the bill agin, and 
 told me I 'd find it on thar. Shore enuff, it was a 
 
212 ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN LIFE. 
 
 bill of things to eat, insted of a bill of expenses. 
 Well, I looked it over, but I could n't tell the rari 
 de poiilets a la Iiidieiine, or the pigeons en compote, 
 or the angiielles a la Tai'tare from anything else, til 
 I tasted 'em, and then I did n't hardly know the 
 chickens from the eels, they was cooked so curi- 
 ous. Ther was plenty that I did know, though, to 
 make out a fust rate dinner, and long before they 
 brung in the custards, and jellies, and pies, my ap- 
 petite was gone. I was jest gwine to leave the 
 table, when Mr. Dorsey ax'd me if I liked Charlotte 
 Roose. I told him I had n't the pleasure of her ac- 
 quaintance. *' Well, Majer," ses he, " you better 
 try a little ;" and with that he sent me a plate with 
 sumthing on* it made out of pound-cake and ice 
 creafn 'thout bein' froze, which was a little the best 
 thing I ever eat in my life. 
 
 Two or three more sich dinners as this would lay 
 me up, so I could n't git away from the Exchange 
 in a month. No more from 
 
 Your friend, till death, Jos. Jones. 
 
 IV. 
 
 FARTHER ADVENTURES IN BALTIMORE. 
 
 No. 27, Exchange Hotel, 
 
 Baltimore, May 22, 1845. 
 
 I 've always found that it was the best way to 
 make '' good digestion wait on appetite, and helth 
 on both," as Mr. McBeth ses, to stir about a little 
 after eatin' a harty bate. So after eatin' the excel- 
 lent dinner at the Exchange, what I told you about 
 
MAJOR JONES'S TRAVELS. 21 3 
 
 in my last letter, I tuck another turn round through 
 the city. By this time I begun to git the hang of 
 the place a little better, and was n't so fraid of get- 
 tin' lost. I turned up South Street, as they call it, 
 whar ther 's more tailors than would make a dozen 
 common men, — even if the old maxim is true, which 
 I never did blieve, — and went up Baltimore Street 
 agin, whar the fine stores is kep, and whar the galls 
 all go a shoppin' and perminadin' in the afternoons 
 to show ther new dresses. 
 
 Well, sir, I can tell you what 's a positiv fact, it 
 would take a French dancin' master to git along in 
 Baltimore Street without runnin' agin sumbody ; and 
 even he could n't shassay his way round through the 
 troops of galls without runnin' a fowl of one now 
 and then, or rakin' his shins all to pieces on the pine 
 boxes wdiat is piled all along the sidewalk, after you 
 git above Charles Street. I done the very best 
 dodgin' I could, but every now and then I run spang 
 agin sumbody, and then, while I was bowin' and 
 scrapin' a apology to 'em, ten to one if I did n't 
 knock sum baby over in the gutter what was cumin' 
 along with its ma, behind me, or git my cote-tail fast 
 in among the crates and boxes so tite that I run a 
 monstrous risk of losin' it bowdaciously. But I 
 was n't the only one what got hung : two or three 
 galls got ther dresses hitched up, on the nails and 
 hoops, so they blushed as red as fire, and a old gen- 
 tleman with a broad-brimmed hat, and his stockins 
 over his trowses, tumbled over a wheel-barrow rite 
 into a pile of boxes, and tore his clothes dredful. 
 It tuck the old man sum time to gether himself up, 
 and git out of the jam he was in. When he got out 
 he never cussed a word, but he fetched a groan that 
 
214 ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN LIFE. 
 
 sounded like it cum from way down below his waist- 
 bands, and went on. 
 
 I thought, at fust, that the store-keepers must be 
 doin' a terrible sight of bisness, to be shure, to 
 be sendin' off and receivin' so much goods, but I 
 knocked on sum of the boxes with my cane, and 
 they sounded as holler as a old empty bee-gum. I 
 spose the city gits a fust rate rent for the pavement, 
 but if the merchants was to keep ther empty boxes 
 in the sellers, it would be a great deal more con- 
 venient for the people to pass along, and I should 
 think it would n't hurt ther contents a bit. The 
 fact is a body can't git into the stpres to buy noth- 
 ing, for the piles of boxes round the doors. I wanted 
 a piece of tobacker myself, but I could n't see no 
 store what I could git into without runnin' the risk 
 of breakin' my neck or tearin' my trowses. 
 
 You may suppose I seed a heap of butiful wim- 
 min in Baltimore Street. Well, so I did ; but, to 
 tell you the truth, I seed some bomxinable ugly ones 
 too. The fact is, Mr. Thompson, wimmin 's wim- 
 min, all over the world ; and the old sayin' that 
 " fine feathers makes fine birds " is jest as true here 
 as it is in Georgia. I 'm a married man, you know, 
 and can speak my sentiments about the galls 'thout 
 givin' offence to nobody ; or, at least, 'thout bein' 
 spected of selfish motives. Well, then, I say Balti- 
 more need n't be ashamed of her wimmin, so far 
 as buty 's concerned. " Handsum is as handsum 
 does " is a old and true sayin' : and if the Baltimore 
 galls is only as amiable and good as they is butiful, 
 they '11 do fust rate, take 'em on a average. But, 
 like every other place, ther 's some here that needs 
 a monstrous sight of goodness to make up for ther 
 uglmsss. 
 
MAJOR JONES'S TRAVELS. 21$ 
 
 I know it used to be a common opinion that the 
 Baltimore wimmin was the prettyest in the world ; 
 and I 've heard people what had been here before 
 advise the young merchants what was gwine to New 
 York to buy goods that if they did n't want to lose 
 ther harts they 'd better go round this city. But 
 that was a good many years ago, and you know time 
 alters circumstances as well as circumstances alters 
 cases, and this is the way I account for the change. 
 Then the Baltimore galls was most all natives, and 
 come from the same stock, and they was so univer- 
 sally handsum that nobody could help but notice it. 
 But the city is growed a monstrous sight since them 
 days ; a great many people from all parts of the world 
 have come into it.; and what was the buty of Balti- 
 more has been mixed up with and distributed about 
 among sich a heap of ugliness that a great deal of 
 it is spilt altogether ; and what does remain pure 
 and unadulterated ain't more 'n half so conspicuous 
 now as it used to be. But notwithstandin', ther 's 
 some monstrous handsum wimmin in Baltimore, 
 some butiful creaters, with dark hazel eyes, bright 
 auburn ringlets, Grecian noses, coral lips, and plump, 
 graceful forms, that is enough to melt the ice from 
 round the heart of a old bachellor who had been 
 cold as a lizzard for twenty years ; and it 's miy posi- 
 tiv opinion that a man what could n't find a gall 
 handsum enuff in this city would stand a monstrous 
 poor chance of gittin' suited short of gwine to Geor- 
 gia, where the galls, you know, take ther temper 
 ments from the warm Southern skies, ther buty 
 from the wild flowers that grow in our fields, and 
 ther voices from the birds that sing in our groves. 
 
 After gwine up as far as Youtaw Street, I crossed 
 
2l6 ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN LIFE. 
 
 over and cum down on tother side of the street, 
 lookin' along at one thing and another til I got most 
 down to Charles Street. By this time I begun to be 
 monstrous dry, and as I 'd heard tell a good deal 
 about the sody water what they have in the big 
 cities, I thought I 'd try a little at the fust place 
 whar they sold it. Well, the fust docter's shop I 
 cum to had a sody water sign up, and in I went to 
 git sum. 
 
 Ses I, " I want a drink of yer sody water." 
 
 " What kind of syrup will you have t " ses he, 
 puttin' his hand on a bottle of molasses. 
 
 " I don't want no syrup," ses I. *' I want sody 
 water." 
 
 " Ah," ses he, " you want extra sody." 
 
 And with that he tuck a glass and put sum white 
 stuff in it, and then held it under the spout til it 
 was full, and handed it to me. 
 
 I put it to my hed and pulled away at it, but I 
 never got sich a everlastin' dose before in all my 
 life. I got three or four swallers down before I be- 
 gun to taste the dratted stuff, and you may depend 
 it liked to killed me right ded in my tracks. It tuck 
 the breth clean out of me, and when I cum to my- 
 self my tongue felt like it was full of needles, and 
 my stummick like I 'd swallered a pint of frozen 
 soapsuds, and the tears was runnin' out of my eyes 
 in a stream. 
 
 I drapped the glass and spurted the rest out of 
 my mouth quicker 'n lightnin', but before I could git 
 breth to speak to the chap what was standin' behind 
 the counter, starein' at me with all his might, he ax'd 
 me if I was n't well. 
 
 **Well! thunder and lightnin," ses I, "do you 
 
MAJOR JONES'S TRAVELS. 21/ 
 
 want to pisen me to deth, and then ax me if I 'm 
 well ? " 
 
 " Pisen ! " ses he. 
 
 " Yes," ses I, " pisen ! I ax'd you for sum sody 
 water, and you gin me a dose bad enough to kill a 
 hoss." 
 
 " I gin you nothin' but plain sody," ses he. 
 
 "Well," ses I, "if that's what you call sody 
 water, I '11 be dadfetch'd if I '11 try any more of it. 
 Why, it 's worse nor Ingin turnip juice stew'd down 
 six gallons into a pint, cooled off in a snow-bank, 
 and mixed with a harrycane." 
 
 Jest then some bilin' hot steam come up into my 
 throte, that liked to blow'd my nose rite out by the 
 roots. 
 
 Ses he, '' May be you ain't used to drinkin' it with- 
 out syrup." 
 
 ** No," ses I, " and what 's more, I never will 
 be." 
 
 ** It 's much better with sassypariller, or goose- 
 berry syrup," ses he. " Will you try some with 
 syrup } " 
 
 " No, I thank you," ses I, and I paid him a thrip 
 for the dose I had, and put out. 
 
 I wanted some tobacker monstrous bad : so I 
 stepped into a store and ax'd for sum. The man 
 said he did n't sell nothin' but staples, but he reck- 
 oned I 'd find some a little further down, at Smith's. 
 Well, I went along lookin' at the signs til I cum to 
 Shaw, Smith & Co. Thinks I, this must be the 
 place. So in I went, and ax'd a very good lookin' 
 man with whiskers, what was standin' near the door, 
 if he had any good chewin' tobacker. 
 
 " No, sir," ses he, " we hain't got any more of that 
 
2l8 ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN LIFE. 
 
 article on hand than we keep for our own use ; but 
 we would like to sell you some carpets to-day." 
 
 " Carpets ? " ses I ; and shore enuff, come to look, 
 ther was n't another thing but carpets and oil cloths 
 and mattins and rugs and sich things in the store ; 
 and I do blieve ther was enuff of 'em of all sorts 
 and figers to furnish all the houses in Georgia. 
 
 After a little explanation he told me the Smith I 
 wanted was J. C. Smith, down opposite to the Mu- 
 seum. He said I 'd find lots of tobacker and segars 
 thar, and I 'd know the place by a big Ingin stand- 
 in' out before the door. Shore enuff, when I went 
 thar I got some fust rate segars and tobacker, and 
 a box to put it in. 
 
 That 's the way they do bisness here. They don't 
 keep dry goods and groceries, calicoes, homespun, 
 rum, salt, trace chains, and tobacker all together, 
 like they do in Pineville, but every kind of goods 
 has a store to itself. If you ever come to Baltimore, 
 and want some tobacker or segars, you must go to 
 the stores what 's got little painted Ingins or nig- 
 gers standin' out by the doors ; for you mought jest 
 as well go to a meetin' house to borrow a hand-saw 
 as go to any of the stores here for anything out of 
 ther line. I spose, like the sody water, it 's well 
 enuff to them that 's used to it, but it 's monstrous 
 ao^orravokin' to them what ain't. 
 
 As I had n't been down in the lower part of the 
 city, I thought I 'd git into one of the omminybuses 
 and ride over to Fells' Pint, and see how it looked. 
 Well, it 's a good long stretch from one eend of Bal- 
 timore to the other, I can teU you, and after you 
 cross over Jones' falls, what runs through to the 
 river and divides the old town from the new one, 
 
MAJOR JONES'S TRAVELS. 219 
 
 you 're monstrous apt to think your gettin' into 
 another city, if not in another nation. I lik'd to 
 put my jaws out of jint tryin' to read sum of the 
 signs. Sum of 'em was painted in Dutch, so I 
 could n't make out the fust letter, and sum of the 
 people looked so Dutch that you mought almost feel 
 it on 'em with a stick. 
 
 I noticed when anybody wanted to git out they 
 jest pulled a leather strap, and the omminybus cum 
 to a halt. So when w^e got down to Fell Street, I 
 tuck hold of the strap and gin it a jerk ; but the 
 bosses went on fast as ever, so I jest laid my wait 
 on the strap to stop 'em. " Hellow ! " ses the driver 
 outside, "do you want to pull me in two 1 " Cum to 
 find out, the strap was hitch'd to the man insted of 
 the bosses, and I liked to draw'd him through the 
 hole whar he tuck his money. He w^as mad as a 
 hornit, but when he looked in and seed who it was 
 he had nothin' more to say. 
 
 I expect some parts of Fells' Pint w^ould suit Mr. 
 Dickens fust rate. It 's old as the hills, and crooked 
 as a ram's horn, and a body can hear jest as much 
 bad English thar as he could among the cockneys of 
 London, and can find sum fancy caracters, male and 
 female, that would do honor to St. Gileses, or any 
 other romantic quarter of the British metropolis. 
 
 After lookin' about a little while at the sailors that 
 was drinkin' toasts and singin' songs in the taverns, 
 I went down on one of the wharves, whar ther w^as 
 a ship jest cum from Liverpool. The sailors was 
 singin' "All together, oh, heve oh !" and pullin' her 
 in to the wharf. Poor fellers, they had been out 
 thirty days, w^orkin' hard, in all kinds of weather, 
 and now they was cumin' ashore to giv ther money 
 
220 ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN LIFE 
 
 to the sharpers that was lookin' out for 'em like 
 sharks for a ded body. I could n't help but feel 
 sorry for 'em, when I thought how in a few days 
 they would be without money and without frends, 
 and would gladly go back to the perils of the ocean, 
 to escape the treachery that beset 'em on shore. 
 
 I went and tuck a seat on some logs what was 
 layin' on the wharf, and smoked a cigar, and looked 
 at the vessels sailin' about in the harbor. While I 
 was settin' thar, thinkin' of ships and sailors, and 
 one thing and another, a little feller come along with 
 a baskit on his arm, and ax'd me if I wanted to buy 
 some matches. I told him no, I did n't want none. 
 
 "You better buy some, sir," ses he. "I sell 'eqi 
 very cheap." 
 
 The little feller looked so poor and pittiful that I 
 could n't help feelin' a little sorry for him. 
 
 " How much do you ax for 'em } " ses I. 
 
 " Eight boxes for a levy," ses he. 
 
 They was jest the same kind of boxes that we git 
 two for a thrip in Georgia, and though I did n't want 
 none, I thought I 'd buy some of him jest to patron- 
 ize him. 
 
 "Well," ses I, "give me two boxes." 
 
 The little feller handed me two boxes, and I gin 
 him a sevenpence. 
 
 " You may keep the change for profit," ses I. 
 
 *' Thank you, sir," ses he, and his eyes brightened 
 up as he put the money in his pocket. 
 
 " I like to encourage honest enterprize," ses I. 
 " Be honest, and never lie or cheat, and you '11 always 
 find frends," ses I. 
 
 " Yes, sir," ses he. " I never steals nor cheats no- 
 body." 
 
MAJOR JONES'S TRAVELS. 221 
 
 " That 's right," ses I. *' That 's a good boy." 
 
 I went on smokin', and in a few minits, when I 
 thought he was gone, I heard the Httle feller behind 
 me agin. 
 
 " What .? " ses I. 
 
 " My sister died last week," ses he, "and we're 
 very poor, and my mammy 's sick, and I can't make 
 money enough to buy medicine for the baby " — 
 
 "Well," ses I, "I don't want no more matches, 
 but here 's a quarter to add to your profits to-day." 
 
 ''Thank you, sir," ses he, and he went off agin, 
 thankin' me for the quarter. 
 
 Poor little feller, thinks I ; how much better to 
 give him that quarter of a dollar than to smoke it 
 out in segars ! He'll go home to his poor mother, 
 happy, and if he has felt any temptation to be a 
 rogue the recollection of my kindness will give him 
 courage to be honest. I had n't got done thinkin' 
 about him before here he was back agin. 
 
 " Daddy died last week," ses he, *' and sister Betsy 
 got her foot skalded, and we hain't had no bred to 
 eat not for a week, — ever sense daddy died, — 
 and " — 
 
 " Look here," says I, " you better go before you 
 kill off all your relations ; I begin to think you 're 
 a little imposter." 
 
 " Oh, no, sir, daddy is ded," ses he, *' and mammy 
 and sister lives all alone, and mammy told me to ax 
 you if you would come and see her, and give her 
 some money." 
 
 I begun to smell a rat, and ses I, "I'll see your 
 mammy to the mischief fust ; and if I 'd had the 
 same opinion of you that I have now, I 'd never gin 
 you the fust red cent." 
 
:?22 ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN LIFE. 
 
 With that the little raf]^p^ed cus sot up a big laugh, 
 and put his thum on his nose and wiggled his fingers 
 at me. 
 
 " Do you see anything green," ses he, *' eh, hos ? 
 What do you think of me now, eh ? Would you 
 like to buy another levy's worth of matches ? You 
 see," ses he, " I 'm one of the b'hoys ! — a out-and- 
 out Fell's Pinter, by ! " and then he ripped 
 
 out a oath that made the hair stand on my hed, and 
 away he went. 
 
 I felt like I was completely tuck in, and I never 
 sed another word. But I made up my mind when 
 I gin another quarter away to encourage honesty, 
 it would be to a different sort of candidate ; and, 
 throwing the stump of my segar into the water, I 
 left the place, and tuck the fust omminybus for the 
 Exchange. I 'm done with Baltimore, and shall 
 start to-morrow for the city of Brotherly Love. So 
 no more at present from 
 
 Your friend, till death, Jos. Jones. 
 
 V. 
 
 THE QUAKER CITY. 
 
 FiLLADELFY, May 23, 1845. 
 
 You may be sure I was tired when I got back to 
 the Exchange, after my visit to Fell's Pint, last night. 
 I could n't help but think how I had been tuck in 
 by that bominable little match seller, and I felt rite 
 mad at myself for bein' sich a fool. 
 
 I had a fust rate appetite for my supper, and by 
 the politeness of Mr. Dorsey — who, tween you and 
 me, is one of the cleverest fellers I 've met with 
 
MAJOR JONES'S TRAVELS. 223 
 
 sense I left Georgia — I got a invitation to take tea 
 in the lady's supper room. You know when the grand 
 caraven was in Pineville, last year, the manager 
 charged a thrip extra for admittin' people when they 
 was feedin' the annimals. Well, it was worth the 
 money ; and if Mr. Dorsey had charged me double 
 price for eatin' at the lady's ordinary, as they call it, 
 I would n't grumbled a bit. Ther w^as a heap of 
 ladys at the table, rangin' from little school galls up 
 to old grandmothers, all dressed out as fine as a 
 fiddle, and lookin' as pleasin' and happy as the 
 Georgia galls do at a Fourth of July barbycue ; and 
 sich a gabblin' as they did keep I never heard be- 
 fore. Jest over opposite to me was a bridle party 
 from Virginny, what had jest been gettin' married, 
 and had come to Baltimore to see ther honey-moon. 
 It was really a interestin' party, and it almost tuck 
 my appetite from me to look at 'em, they was so 
 happy and so lovin'. They was only married 'bout 
 a week, and of course the world was all moonshine 
 and hummin'-birds and roses to them. They felt 
 like ther was no other inhabitants in creation, and 
 that all that was beautiful and bright and good on 
 earth was made for their enjoyment alone. They 
 had ther bridesmaid and groomsman along, and two 
 or three more young ladys and gentlemen. The 
 galls was all monstrous handsum, but the bride was 
 the handsumest of 'em all. Pore gall, she looked 
 sort o' pale, and could n't eat much supper for 
 lookin' at her husband ; and he drunk his tea 'thout 
 any sweetenin' in it, just cause she looked in his 
 cup with her butiful soft eyes. 
 
 They put me in mind of the time when I was 
 married, and of Mary, and by the time supper was 
 
224 ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN LIFE. 
 
 over I was as homesick as the mischief. Segars is 
 good for the blues sometimes, and I smoked til my 
 hed whirled round so I could n't hardly hold my hat 
 on, but it did n't do me not the least bit of good; so 
 I went to my room, and tried to find in the arms of 
 Morfyus a substitute for the arms of her who is a great 
 deal dearer to me than anything else in this world. 
 
 I did n't git much time to sleep for dreamin' all 
 night, and when I waked up in the mornin' Hansum 
 sed the second gong was rung, and if I was gwine 
 to Filladelfy in the cars I better git up rite off. 
 Well, out I got, and dressed, and went down to 
 breckfust. After eatin' a good breckfust I ax'd for 
 my bill, and Hansum brung down my baggage. 
 Every time I looked at Hansum he was grinnin', 
 but as soon as he seed me lookin' at him he 
 straitened up his face and sort o' pretended to 
 scratch his hed. I couldn't think what was the 
 matter with the feller ; and when I looked at him 
 pretty hard he grinned, as much as to say it was 
 the strangest thing in the world to him why I 
 could n't understand his meanin*. Bimeby, when I 
 was puttin' my change in my purse, I spected what 
 was the matter. " That 's it, ain't it, Hansum ? " ses 
 I, handin' him a quarter. '' Yes, sir ; thank you, sir," 
 ses he, and he grinned more 'n ever, and if you ever 
 seed a ugly nigger he was one. 
 
 When I was reddy to start, I went to the door to 
 see if they had put my trunks on the waggon to 
 take them to the cars, and rite in the middle of the 
 hall I met a chap standin with a big painted tin 
 label on his buzzum, what had on it " Boot Black," 
 \\\ big yaller letters. Thar he stood like a sentinel 
 on quarter gard, as stiff as a post, and as I walked 
 
MAJOR JONES'S TRAVELS. 225 
 
 by him he kept turnin* round, so his sign was all the 
 time in view. When I cum back thar he stood in 
 the same place, with his hands down by his side, 
 and his hed up, lookin' me rite in the face. Thinks 
 I, he must be a deaf and dum man what blacks the 
 boots of the establishment, and he wants me to giv 
 him sum change. Well, I did n't know nothin' about 
 the deaf and dum language, and as I did n't have no 
 slate and pencil handy I begun to make signs to 
 him, by pintin' at my boots, and then at him, and 
 then doin' my hands like I was brushin' a boot. 
 He nodded his hed. Then I tuck out my purse and 
 made a motion to him, as much as to say, Do you 
 want sum money .'* and he nodded his hed agin, twice. 
 Poor feller, thinks I, he can't dun nobody, and must 
 lose many a debt whar people 's always gwine away 
 in a hurry so. So I handed him a half a dollar. 
 When it fell in his hand he opened his eyes and 
 started like he was tuck by surprise. " Thank ye, 
 sir," ses he, scrapiu' his foot and bowin' his hed 
 like a snappin' turtle. "Thank ye, sir," ses he. 
 
 You may depend that sot me back like the mis- 
 chief. 
 
 " If you ain't dum," ses I, " why did n't you speak 
 before t " ses I. 
 
 " I had nothin' to spake of," ses he. 
 
 "■ Could n't you sed you was the boot-blacker 1 " 
 ses I. 
 
 "I'd tould ye that," ses he, "but I thought you 
 could rade ; ' and where 's the use of keepin' a dog 
 and doin' one's own barkin' V " ses he. 
 
 Tuck in agin, thinks I. If I had n't thought he 
 vas a dum man I would n't gin him but a seven- 
 pence, nohow. 
 
226 ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN LIFE. 
 
 It was nine o'clock, and I was seated in the cars 
 on my way to Filladelfy. The road runs rite along 
 in the edge of the city, near the wharves, and gives 
 a body a pretty good idee of the heavy bisness part 
 of Baltimore from, the basin clear out to Fell's Pint, 
 in Old Town. 
 
 After we got out of the city they took out the 
 horses and hitched in the old steam Belzebub, and 
 away we went, rattle-te-klink, over embankments 
 and through cuts, across fields and over bridges, 
 until we was soon out of site of Baltimore. The 
 mornin' was dark and cloudy, and the ground was 
 wet ; so if we lost anything by not havin' brighter 
 skies and a better view of the scenery, we made up 
 for it by not havin' no dust to choke us to deth. 
 This is a butiful railroad, and the cars is as com- 
 fortable as a rockin' chair with arms to it. You 
 hain't got to be bumpin' and crowdin' up together 
 in the seats, like you do on some roads, for every 
 man has a comfortable seat to himself ; and another 
 thing that I liked very much was that the sparks 
 ain't always dartin' about your face, and lightin' 
 down when you ain't spectin' nothin', and burnin' 
 your clothes off of you. 
 
 I begin to find it a great deal colder here than it 
 was in Georgia when I left home. We had summer 
 in Pineville more 'n a month ago, and everybody 
 had gardin vegetables on their tables, and my corn 
 was more 'n knee high long before I left. Here 
 ther ain't hardly an English pea to be seen, and the 
 cornfield malitia is still on duty to skeer the birds 
 from pullin' up the sprouts. But in that line of bis- 
 ness they can beat us all holler, for I have seed two 
 or three skeercrows standin' about in the cornfields 
 
MAJOR JONES'S TRAVELS. 227 
 
 here that would n't only skeer all the birds in Geor- 
 gia to deth, but they would n't leave a nigger on the 
 plantation in twenty-four hours after they wer put 
 in the field. They looked more like the old boy in 
 regimentals than anything I can think of. 
 
 The road passes through a rather thinly popilated 
 country most of the distance, til it gits to Haver- 
 de-grass, whar it crosses the Susquehanny River. 
 After that it goes through a country that keeps 
 gettin' better and better til we git to Wilmington, 
 Delaware, which is a butiful town on the Brandy- 
 wine River, 'bout thirty miles from Filladelfy. Be- 
 tween Baltimore and the Susquehanny we crossed 
 over several rivers, on bridges, some of 'em more 'n 
 a mile long, but ther ain't no changin', only at the 
 Susquehanny, which we crossed in a butiful steam- 
 boat to the cars on the other side. From Wilming- 
 ton all the way to Filladelfy, we wer in site of the 
 broad Delaware on our right, on the banks of which 
 and as far as we could see on the left is one of the 
 handsumest agricultural districts in the country, the 
 houses lookin' like palaces, and the farms like gar- 
 dens. 
 
 When the cars got to the depo, they was sur- 
 rounded as usual by a regiment of whips. But the 
 Filladelfy hackmen behaved themselves pretty well 
 for men in ther line of bisness. Ther was n't more 'n 
 twenty of 'em at me at one time, and none of 'em 
 did n't 'tempt to take my baggage from me whether 
 I would let 'em have it or not. Soon as I got so 
 that I knowed which eend I was standin' on, I took 
 a hack and druv to the United States Hotel in 
 Chestnut Street, rite opposite the old raw head and 
 bloody bones, the United States Bank. 
 
228 ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN LIFE. 
 
 After dinner I tuck a walk up Chestnut Street to 
 the old State House, whar the Continental Congress 
 made the Declaration of Independence. The old 
 bildin' stands whar it did, and the doorsills is thar, 
 upon which the feet of our revolutionary fathers 
 once rested ; but whar are they now ? Of all the 
 brave hearts that throbbed in them old halls on the 
 4th of July, 1776, not one now is warmed by the 
 pulse of life ! One by one they have sunk down 
 into ther graves, leavin' a grateful posterity to the 
 enjoyment of the civil and religious blessins for 
 which they pledged ther "lives, ther fortius, and 
 ther sacred honors." I felt like I was walkin' on 
 consecrated ground, and I could n't help but think 
 that if some of our members of Congress was to 
 pay a occasional pilgrimage to this Mecky of our 
 political faith, and dwell but for a feV hours on the 
 example of the worthy men who once waked the 
 echoes of these halls with ther patriotic eloquence, 
 they would be apt to go back wiser and better poli- 
 ticians than they was when they cum ; and that we 
 would have less sound and more sense, less for Bun- 
 cum and more for the country, in ther speeches in 
 our Capitol at Washington. 
 
 After lookin' about the old hall, I went up stairs 
 into the steeple, whar the bell still hangs what was 
 cast by order of Congress, to proclaim liberty to the 
 world. It is cracked and ruined, and like the walls 
 in which it hangs, the monuments and statues and 
 paintins, and every other relic of them days, it re- 
 mains a silent memento of the past, and as such it 
 should be preserved as long as the metal of which 
 it is made will stick together. 
 
 After takin' a good look at it, and readin' the in- 
 
MAJOR JONES'S TRAVELS. 229 
 
 scription on it, I went up higher in the steeple, and 
 tuck a look at the city. Well, I thought thar was 
 brick and morter enough under my eyes at one time 
 when I was on the Washington monument in Balti- 
 more ; but, sir, Baltimore, large as it is, ain't a primin' 
 to Filladelfy. I could see nothin' but one eternal 
 mass of houses on ever}- side. On the east, I could 
 see the Delaware, what divided the city from the 
 houses on the Jersey side ; but on the north and 
 south it was impossible to see the eend of 'em. 
 They stretched out for miles, until you could n't tell 
 one from another, and then the confused mass of 
 chimneys, roofs, and steeples seemed to mingle in 
 the gray obscure of the smoky horizon. The streets 
 run north and south, east and west, at right angles, 
 as straight and level as the rows in a cotton patch. 
 The fact is, I can't compare the city to anything else 
 but one everlastin' big chess-board, covered with 
 pieces : the churches with steeples answerin' for 
 castles, the State House, Exchange, and other public 
 bildins for kings, the banks for bishops, the 
 theatres and hotels for knights, and so on down 
 til you cum to the private houses, which would do 
 to stand for counters. The only difficulty in the 
 comparison is that ther ain't no room to move, — 
 the game bein' completely blocked or checkmated 
 everywhar, except round the edges, and whar ther 
 is now and then a square left for a public walk. 
 
 I was standin' thar ruminatin' and wonderin' at 
 the great city that was stretched out at my feet, and 
 thinkin' to myself what a heap of happiness and 
 misery, wealth and poverty, virtue and vice, it con- 
 tained, and how if I was a Asmodeus what a inter- 
 estin' panorama it would afford me, when the fust 
 
230 ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN LIFE. 
 
 thing I know'd I cum in a ace of jumpin' spang off 
 the steeple into the tree-tops below. Whang ! went 
 something right close by me, with a noise louder 
 than a fifty-six pounder, that made the old steeple 
 totter and creak as if it was gwine all to pieces. I 
 grabbed hold of the railins and held on to 'em with 
 all my might, til I tuck seven of them allfired licks, 
 ev^ery one of which I thought would nock my senses 
 out of me. It jarred my very inards, and made me 
 so deaf I could n't hear myself think for a ower af- 
 terwards. Come to find out it was the town clock 
 strikin' in the steeple rite over my head. It was a 
 monstrous lucky thing for me that it was n't no later, 
 for I do believe if it had been ten or leven o'clock 
 it would been the deth of me. 
 
 As soon as I got able to travel I cum down out of 
 that place and went through Independence Square, 
 what 's right in the rear of the State House, to 
 Washington Square. This is said to be the hand- 
 sumest public square in the world ; it certainly is 
 the handsumest I ever seed, and I do blieve that on 
 this occasion ther was n't that spot of earth on the 
 whole globe that could compare with it. I don't 
 mean the square itself, — though that is handsum 
 enuff in all conscience, with its butiful gravelled 
 walks, its handsum grass-plats, its shady trees, and 
 ellegant iron fence, that would cost more itself than 
 all the houses in Pineville, — but what I mean is 
 the scene what I saw in the square. 
 
 If there was one I do blieve ther was fifteen hun- 
 dred to two thousand children in the square at one 
 time, all rangin' from two to seven and eight years 
 old, and all dressed in the most butiful style. Thar 
 they was, little galls and boys, all playin' and movin' 
 
MAJOR JOiXES'S TRAVELS. 23 I 
 
 about in every direction : some jumpin' the rope, 
 some rollin' hoops ; here a party of little galls dan- 
 cin' the polker, and thar another playin at battle- 
 door or the graces ; some runnin' races, and some 
 walkin ' ; some of 'em butiful as little Coopids, and 
 all as merry and sprightly as crickets. It was a 
 kind of juvenile svvoiree, as they call 'em here, and 
 I never did see any little creaters that seemed to 
 enjoy themselves so much. I never seed so many 
 children together before in all my life, and it seemed 
 to me ther was n't a sickly one among 'em. Per- 
 haps the sickly ones couldn't come out when the 
 wether was so cool. But if they was a fair spece- 
 rnen of the children of Filladelfy, then I can say 
 there ain't a city in the world that can beat her 
 for handsum, clean, well-dressed, healthy-lookin' 
 children. Ther was lots of nurses among 'em to 
 take care of 'em, and now and then you could see 
 a pair of little niggers tryin' to mix in with 'em ; 
 but it was no go, and the pore little blackys had to 
 sneak round the corners and look on like pore folks 
 at a frollick, the little children not bein' sufficiently 
 edicated yet to enable them to discover their equals 
 in the sable descendants of Africa. 
 
 While I was lookin' about in the square, who 
 should I ste but the famous Count P.arraty, what 
 was out to Pineville, you know, about two years ago, 
 Jecturein' on Greece. Thar he was, with the san^.e 
 old shaggy locks and big moustaches, standi n' near 
 a groop of servant galls, with his arms folded, lookin' 
 on in the attitude of Bonaparte at St. Helleny. 
 Poor old feller, I could n't help but pity him, when 
 I thought what terrible vicissitudes he has passed 
 through sense he was in Georgia. You know whei? 
 
232 ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN LIFE. 
 
 he left Pinevillc he told us wc would hear from him 
 in the papers, and in less than a month we did hear 
 from him, shore enuff, in the " Pickyune," what gin 
 a account of that terrible encounter he had with a 
 cowhide in the hands of sum gentleman in New 
 Orleans, whose lady did n't understand Greek enuff 
 to enable her to appreciate his foreign manners. 
 The Count don't wear so much jewelry now as he 
 use to in Georgia, and his clothes look a little seedy. 
 But he 's the same old Count in every other respect. 
 As soon as he seed me he relaxed the austerity of 
 his moustaches, and went out of the square. 
 
 Bimeby the swoiree was over, and the nurses be- 
 gun to gether up iher charges and prepare for gwine 
 home. The merry laugh and song soon died away, 
 and troop after troop of little people filed out of the 
 gates in every direction, until the square was en- 
 tirely deserted. 
 
 It was tea time, and I went to my hotel. Sense 
 tea I have rit you this letter, informin' you of my 
 arrival here. I 'm gwine to bed early to-night, and 
 if it don't rain to-morrow I 'm gwine to take a early 
 start and see what Filladelfy 's made out of before 
 nite. So no more from 
 
 Your friend, till death, Jos. Jones. 
 
 VI. 
 
 THE major's adventures IN GOTHAM. 
 
 New York, Ju7ie 2, 1S45. 
 
 I arriv in this city, all safe and sound, yesterday 
 afternoon about three o'clock, but to tell you the 
 truth, if I had cum up minus my coat-tail, or even a 
 
MAJOR JONES'S TRAVELS. 233 
 
 \q% or arm, after sich a everlastin' racket as I have 
 been in ever sense I left Filladelfy, I would n't been 
 much surprised. As for coilectin' my senses, and 
 gitin' my mind composed so as to know myself or 
 anything else certain, I don't never expect to do it 
 as long as I 'm in this great whirlpool of livin' 
 beins. 
 
 A little circumstance happened to me last night, 
 before I had been here only a few hours, that sot 
 me back a little the worst. I never was so ouda- 
 ciously tuck in in all my born days, and if you had 
 heard me cus about it you'd thought I was turned a 
 real Hottentot, sure enuff. But to begin whar I 
 left off in my last letter. 
 
 The porter at the United States Hotel waked me 
 up early in the mornin', and I got to the steamboat 
 jest in time. It was a butiful bright mornin', and 
 the store-keepers was openin' ther stores, while the 
 servant galls was scrubbin' the dore-steps of the 
 houses, and washin' off the pavements in front of 
 'em. I looked at 'em as I rode along in the hack, 
 and I could n't help feelin' sorry to see such butiful, 
 rosy-cheeked white galls down in the dirt and slop 
 in the streets, doin' work that is only fit for niggers. 
 They say here that they ain't nothing but slewers, 
 but I seed sum that I would tuck for respectable 
 white galls if I had seed 'em in Georgia. Slewers 
 or whatever they is, they is my own color, and a few 
 dollars would make 'em as good as ther mistresses, 
 in the estimation of them that turns up ther noses 
 at 'em now. 
 
 The Delaware is a noble river, and Filladelfy is a 
 city worthy to stand on its banks. From the deck 
 of the steamboat we had a splendid panaramic view 
 
234 ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN LIFE. 
 
 of it, as we passed block after block, the strtets 
 runnin' up from the water's edge, strait as a bee 
 line, and affordin' us glimpses of the fine houses 
 and elegant public bildins that makes Filladelfy one 
 of the handsumest cities in the world. But, long as 
 it is, we was soon past it, and in a few minits its 
 numerous steeples and towers and masts faded away 
 in the distance, and we turned our eyes on the buti- 
 ful country on both sides of the river. 
 
 Butiful farm houses and bright-lookin' little towns 
 was most all the time in site, til we got to the place 
 what they call Bristol, whar we tuck the cars to 
 New York. The railroad runs along on the bank 
 of a canal part of the way, crosses the river on a 
 splendid bridge, and passes through Trenton, Prince- 
 ton, Newark, and a heap of other towns in New 
 Jersey, til it gits to Jersey City, what stands on the 
 Hudson River, opposite to the city of New York. 
 
 Well, when we got to Jersey City, we all got out, 
 and scrambled through the crowd as well as we could 
 to the boat what was thar to take us across the river 
 to New York. When we got up to the gate what 
 encloses the wharf we could see the hackmen and 
 porters peepin' at us through the palms, like so 
 many wild varmints in a big cage, ready and eager 
 to devour us and our baggage too. I tuck my cane 
 tight in my hand, and kep a sharp eye on 'em, de- 
 termined to defend myself to the last. As soon as 
 the gates was open we rushed for the boat, and they 
 rushed at us. Sich another hellabaloo I never did 
 see before, and I expected every minit to see sum- 
 body git spilled overboard into the river. 
 
 I found it was n't no use to try to keep 'em off 
 without nockin' sum of 'em in the hed, and then I 
 
MAJOR JONES'S TRAVELS. 235 
 
 Vv'ould only be like the fox in the spellin' book, ready 
 to be worried to deth by a fresh gang. So when 
 they cum round me with, " Have a hack, sir ? " — 
 ''I'm pubUc poorter, sir," — "Shall I take your 
 baggage up, sir ? " — " Will you give me your checks, 
 sir?" — "Take you up for two shillins, sir, to any 
 part of the city," — all of 'em handin' ther cards to 
 me at once, I jest backed up agin the side of the 
 boat and tuck evry card they handed to me, without 
 sayin' a word, and when they ax'd me for my checks 
 i was deaf and dum, and could n't understand a 
 word they sed. That sot 'em to pushin' and 
 crowdin' one another, and hollerin' in my ear, and 
 makin' signs to me, til they found they could n't 
 make nothing out of me, and then they started after 
 sum new victim. 
 
 Among the passengers ther was a old sun-burnt 
 lookin' feller, with green spectacles on, what put me 
 in mind of a Georgia steam doctor, and who seemed 
 to think he know'd more than anybody else 'bout 
 evry thing. He was gabbin' and talkin' to evrybody 
 all the way on the steamboat and in the cars, and 
 tryin' his best to git up a argyment 'bout religion 
 with sumbody. One would supposed he owned half 
 the baggage aboard, to hear him talk about it, and 
 when we got on the ferry boat he was the bissyest 
 man in the crowxl, rearin' and pitchin' among the 
 hackmen and porters like a blind dog in a meat 
 house, and tryin' to git into the crowd what was 
 gathered all round the baggage like flies round a fat 
 gourd. Bimeby a honest-lookin' Irishman cum up 
 to me, and ses he. handin' his card, " Shall I take 
 your baggage, sir } " Ther was sumthing like honest 
 independence in the feller's face, and I gin him my 
 
236 ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN LIFE. 
 
 checks, and in he went *for my trunks. In a minit 
 he cum out safe and sound with one of 'em. " Stand 
 by it, sir," ses he, "til I git the other." I tuck my 
 stand, and it was jest as much as I could do to keep 
 the devils from carryin' it off with me on top of it. 
 Ther was sich a everlastin' rumpus I couldn't hear 
 myself think. The clerks was callin' out the num- 
 bers ; evrybody was runnin' about and lookin' after 
 ther baggage ; children was cryin' ; wimmin was 
 callin' for ther husbands to look out for ther band- 
 boxes ; hackmen and porters was hollerin' and shoutin' 
 at the people, and at one another ; whips was stickin' 
 in your eyes evry way you turned ; and trunks and 
 carpet bags and boxes was tumblin' and rollin' in 
 every direction, rakin' your shins and mashin' your 
 toes in spile of all you could do. In the middle of 
 the fuss thar was old Pepperpod, with his old cotton 
 umbereller in his hand, elbowin' his way into the 
 crowd, and whoopin' and hollerin' over evrybody 
 else til he disappeared in the middle of 'em. In 
 about a minit here he cum agin, cusin' and cavortin* 
 enuff to sink the boat, with a pair of old saddle-bags 
 in one hand, sum pieces of whalebone and part of 
 the handle of his umbreller in the other, his hat 
 gone, and his coat-tail split clear up to the collar. 
 He was mad as a hornit, and swore he would prose- 
 cute the company for five thousand dollars damages 
 for salt and battery and manslaughter in the second 
 degree. He cut a terrible figer, but evrybody was 
 too bissy to laugh at him. I thought to myself that 
 his perseverance was porely rewarded that time. 
 
 I sot thar and waited til nearly everybody was 
 gone from the boat, and til my Irishman had picked 
 up all the other customers he could git, before h^ 
 
MAJOR JONES'S TRAVELS. 237 
 
 come and tuck my trunk and told me to foliar him 
 to his hack. After cumin' in a ace of gettin' run 
 over three or four times, I got to the hack, what was 
 standin' in the middle of 'bout five hundred more 
 hacks and drays, all mixed up with the bowsprits 
 and yards of ships that was stickin' out over the 
 edge of the wharves, and pokin' ther eends almost 
 into the winders of the stores. The hackman ax'd 
 me what hotel I wanted to go to. I told him to take 
 me whar the Southern travel stopped. " That 's the 
 American," ses he ; and after waitin' til the way 
 opened so we could git out, we druvto the American 
 Hotel on Broadway, rite opposite to the Park. 
 
 It was 'bout three o'clock when I got to the hotel, 
 and after brushin' and scrubbin' a little of the dust 
 off, and gittin' my dinner, I tuck a turn out into the 
 great Broadway, what I 've heard so much about 
 ever sense I was big enuff to read the newspapers, 
 to see if it was what it 's cracked up to be. Well, 
 when I got to the door of the hotel I thought ther 
 must be a funeral or something else gwine by, and 
 I waited some time, thinkin' they would all git past ; 
 but they only seemed to git thicker and faster and 
 more of 'em the longer I waited, til bimeby I begun 
 to discover that they was gwine both ways, and that 
 it was no procession at all, but jest one everlastin' 
 stream of peeple passin' up and down the street, 
 cumin' from all parts of creation, and gwine Lord 
 only knows whar. 
 
 I mix'd in with 'em, but I tell you what, I found 
 it monstrous rough travellm'. The fact is a chicken- 
 coop mought as well expect to float down the Savan- 
 nah River in a freshet, and not git nocked to pieces 
 by the driftwood, as for a person what ain't used to 
 
238 ODD /TIES IN SOUTHERN LIFE. 
 
 it to expect to git along in Broadway without gettin' 
 jostled from one side to tother at every step, and 
 pushed into the street about three times a minit. A 
 body must watch the currents and eddies, and foller 
 'em and keep up with 'em, if they don't want to git run 
 over by the crowd or nocked off the sidewalk, to be 
 ground into mince-meat by the everlastin' ominy- 
 busses. In the fust place, I undertuck to go up 
 Broadway on the left hand side of the pavement, but 
 I mought jest as well tried to paddle a canoe up the 
 falls of Tallula. In spite of all the dodgin' I could do, 
 sumbody was all the time bumpin' up agin me, so 
 that with the bumps I got from the men and givin 
 back for the wimmin, I found I was loosin' ground 
 instead of gwine ahead. Then I kep " to the right, 
 as the law directs," but here I like to got run over 
 by the crowd of men and wimmin and children and 
 niggers, what was all gwine as fast as if ther houses 
 was afire, or they was runnin' for the doctor. And 
 if I happened to stop to look at anything the fust 
 thing I knowed I was jammed out among the ominy- 
 busses, what was dashin' and whirlin' along over the 
 stones like one eternal train of railroad cars, makin' 
 a noise like heaven and yeath was cumin' together. 
 Then ther was the carriages and hacks and market 
 wagons and milk carts, rippin' and tearin' along in 
 every direction ; the drivers hollerin' and poppin' 
 ther whips the peeple talkin' to one another as if 
 ther lungs was made out of sole leather ; soldiers 
 marchin' with bands of music, beatin' of ther drums 
 and blowin' and slidin' ther tromboons and trumpets 
 with all ther might, — all together makin' noise enuff 
 to drive the very old Nick himself out of his senses. 
 It was more than I could stand ; my dander begun to 
 
MAJOR JONES'S TRAVELS. 239 
 
 g^it up, and I rushed out into the fust street I cum 
 to, to try to git out of the racket before it sot me 
 crazy sure enuff, when what should I meet but a 
 dratted grate big nigger with a bell in his hand, 
 ringin' it rite in my face as hard as he could, and 
 hollerin' sumthing loud enuff to split the hed of 
 a lamp-post. That was too much, and I made a 
 lick at the feller with my cane that would lowered 
 his key if it had hit him, at the same time that I 
 grabbed him by the collar, and ax'd him what in the 
 name of thunder he meant by sich imperence. The 
 feller drapped his bell and shut his catfish mouth, 
 and rollin' up the whites of his eyes, 'thout sayin' a 
 word, he broke away from me as hard as he could 
 tear, and I hastened on to find some place less like 
 bedlam than Broadway. 
 
 By this time it was most dark, and after walkin' 
 down one street til I cum to a garte big gardin with 
 trees in it, whar it was so still that noises begun to 
 sound natural to me agin, I sot down on the railins 
 and rested myself awhile, and then sot out for my 
 hotel. I walked and walked for some time, but 
 somehow or other I could n't find the way. I in- 
 quired for the American Hotel two or three times, 
 and got the direction, but the streets twisted about 
 so that it was out of the question for me to foller 
 'em when they told me, and I begun to think I 'd 
 have to take up my lodgins somewhar else for that 
 night, I was so tired. Bimeby I cum to a street that 
 was very still and quiet, what they called Chambers 
 Street ; and while I was standin' on the corner, 
 thinkin' which way I should go, 'long cum a pore 
 woman with a bundle under her arm, creepin' along 
 as if she was n't hardly able to walk. When she 
 
240 ODDIllES IN SOUTHERN LIFE. 
 
 seed me she cum up to me and put her hankcrchef 
 to her eyes, and ses she : — 
 
 " Mister, I 'm a pore woman, and my husban 's so 
 sick he ain't able to do any work, and me and my 
 pore Uttle children is almost starvin' for bred. Won't 
 you be good enuff to give me two shillins ? " 
 
 I looked at her a bit, and thought of the way the 
 match-boy served me in Baltimore, and ses I, — 
 
 ** Hain't you got no relations nor neighbors that 
 can help you ? " 
 
 "■ Oh, no, sir ; I 'm too pore to have relations or 
 neighbors. I was better off once, and then I had 
 plenty of frends." 
 
 That 's the way of the world, thinks I ; we always 
 have frends til we need 'em. 
 
 " Oh, sir, if you only know'd how hard I have to 
 work, you 'd pity me, — I know you would." 
 
 "■ What do you do for a livin' } " ses I ; for she 
 looked too delicate to do much. 
 
 *' I do fine washin' and ironin'," ses she ; '' but I 'm 
 sick so much that I can't make enuff to support 
 us ; " and then she coffed a real graveyard coff. 
 
 "Why don't you git sum of Schenck's Pulmonic 
 Syrup } " ses I. 
 
 '* Oh, sir," ses she, " I 'm too pore to buy medicin, 
 when my pore little children is dyin' for bred." 
 
 That touched me, to think sich a delicate young 
 cretur as her should have to struggle so hard, and I 
 tuck out my purse and gin her a dollar. 
 
 " Thar," ses I, ** that will help you a little." 
 
 "Oh, bless you, sir; you're so kind. Now I '11 
 buy sum medicin for my pore husband. Will you 
 be good enuff to hold this bundle for me til I step 
 
MAJOR JONES'S TRAVELS. 24I 
 
 back to that drug-store on the corner ? It *s so 
 heavy. I '11 be back in a minit," ses she. 
 
 I felt so sorry for the pore woman that I could n't 
 refuse her sich a little favor, so I tuck her bundle to 
 hold it for her. She said she was 'fraid the fine 
 dresses mought git rumpled, and then her custom- 
 ers would n't pay her ; so I tuck 'em in my arms 
 very careful, and she went to the store after the med- 
 icin. 
 
 Ther was a good many peeple passin' by, and I 
 walked up from the corner a little ways, so they 
 should n't see me standin' thar with the bundle in 
 my arms. I begun to think it was time for the 
 woman to cum back, and the bundle was beginnin' 
 to git pretty heavy, when I thought I felt sumthing 
 movin' in it. I stopped rite still, and held my breth 
 to hear if it was anything, when it begun to squirm 
 about more and more, and I heard a noise jest like 
 a tom-cat in the bundle. I never was so supprised 
 in my life, and I cum in a ace of lettin' it drap rite 
 on the pavement. Thinks T, in the name of crea- 
 tion, what is it .'' I walked down to the lamp-post to 
 see what it was, and Mr. Thompson, would you be- 
 lieve me, it was a live baby ! I was so completely 
 tuck aback that I staggered up agin the lamp-post 
 and held on to it, while it kicked and squalled like 
 a young panter, and the sweat jest poured out of 
 me in a stream. What upon yeath to do I did n't 
 know. Thar I was in a strange city, whar nobody 
 did n't know me, out in the street with a little young 
 baby in my arms. I never was so mad at a female 
 woman before in all my life, and I never felt so 
 much like a dratted fool as I did that minit. 
 
 I started for the drug-store, with the baby squallin' 
 
 I > 
 
242 ODDITIES IX SOUTHERN LIFE. 
 
 like rath, and the more I tried to liusli it the h)uder 
 it squalled. The man what kep the store said he had 
 n't seed no such woman, and I mus' n't bring no 
 babys in than 
 
 By this time a everlastin' crowd of peeple — men 
 and wdmmin — was gathered round, so I c jald n't go 
 no whar, all gabblin' and talkin' so I could n't hardly 
 hear the baby squall. 
 
 I told 'em how it was, and told 'em I was a 
 stranger in New York, and ax'd 'em what I should 
 do with the baby. But ther was no gettin' any 
 sense out of 'em, and none of 'em would n't touch it 
 no more 'n if it had been so much pisen. 
 
 " That won't do," ses one feller. " You can't 
 cum that game over this crowd." 
 
 "No, indeed," ses another little runty-lookin* 
 feller ; " we 've got enuff to do to take care of our 
 own babys in these diggins." 
 
 " Take your baby home to its ma," ses another, 
 ** and support it like a onest man." 
 
 I tried to git a chance to explain the bisness to 
 'em, but drat the word could I git in edgeways. 
 
 •'Take 'em both to the ToomiS," ses one, "and 
 make 'em giv a account of themselves." 
 
 With that two or three of 'em cum toward me, 
 and I grabbed my cane in one hand, while I held 
 on to the bundle with the other. 
 
 ** Gentlemen," ses I — the baby squeelin' all the 
 time like forty cats in a bag — " gentlemen, I 'm not 
 gwine to be used in no sich way. I '11 let you know 
 that I 'm not gwdne to be tuck to no Tooms. I 'm a 
 stranger in your city, and I 'm not gwine to sup- 
 port none of your babys. My name is Joseph 
 Jones, of Pineville, Georgia, and anybody vvhc 
 
 u-.*- 
 
MAJOR JONES'S TRAVELS. 243 
 
 ;vants to know who I am can find me at the 
 American " — 
 
 " Majer Jones ! Majer Jones, of Pineville ! " ses a 
 dozen of 'em at the same time. 
 
 " Majer Jones," ses a clever-lookin' young man, 
 what pushed his way into the crowd when he heard 
 my name. " Majer, don't be disturbed in the least," 
 ses he. " I '11 soon have this matter fixed." 
 
 With that he spoke to a man with a lether ribbon 
 on his hat, who tuck the baby, bundle and all, and 
 carried it off to the place what they 've got made in 
 New York a purpose to keep sich pore little cr- 
 fans in. 
 
 By this time my frend, Mr. Jacob Littlehigh, who 
 is a Georgian, livin' in New York, had interduced 
 himself to me and 'bout twenty other gentlemen, 
 and I begun to find myself 'bout as much of a object 
 of attraction after the baby was gone as I was be- 
 fore. I never seed one of 'em before in my life, but 
 they all sed they had red my book, and they did n't 
 know nobodv else. So much for bein' a author. 
 
 They was all monstrous glad to see me, and 
 wanted to know how Mary and the baby was at 
 home ; and 'fore they let me off they made me go 
 down to Bardotte & Shelly's Caffe Tortoni, and eat 
 one of the biggest kind of oyster suppers, and drink 
 sum sherry coblers what would develop the intel- 
 lect of a barber's block, and expand the heart of a 
 Florida live-oak. Thev was the cleverest set of 
 fellers I ever seed out of Georgia, and after spendin' 
 a pleasant hour with 'em, laughin' over the incidents 
 of the evenin', they showed me home to my hotel, 
 tvhar I soon went to bed to dream of bundles full of 
 babys and oceans of sherry coblers. 
 
244 ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN LIFE. 
 
 You must excuse this long letter, under the cir- 
 cumstances. No more from 
 
 Your friend, till death, Jos. Jones. 
 
 P. S. — Don't for the world let Mary know any- 
 thing about the baby, for she 'd want to know what 
 upon yeath I was runnin' about the street at night 
 for, holdin' bundles for pore wimmin, and I never 
 could explain it to her satisfaction. Ther 's one 
 thing monstrous certain — I '11 go a hundred yards 
 round the next woman I meet in the street with a 
 bundle in her arms. 
 
DAVY CROCKETT. 
 
 Among the unreal characters of Southern fiction, there is none 
 more unique than the real personage, Davy Crockett. Indeed, the 
 story of this rough-and-ready humorist of the backwoods reads like 
 a romance. He was born in Greene County, Tennessee, the 17th of 
 August, 1786. His father, a Revolutionary soldier, of Irish extraction, 
 was a poor frontiersman, and the son, born and reared in the log cabin 
 of the period, received no eaucation whatever. But he distinguished 
 himself very early in life as a marksman, and became a great local 
 favorite on account of his amiability and courage. He commanded a 
 battalion of rifles in the Creek campaign of iS 13-14, and at the 
 close of the war of 1S12-15 divided his time as a bear-hunter and a 
 member of the Tennessee legislature. In 1S27 he was elected a rep- 
 resentative to the Twentieth Congress, taking his seat in the House' 
 on the first Monday of December of that year. He was subsequently 
 reelected in 1S29, and defeated in 1831 ; was returned for a third 
 term in 1833. Although he entered public life as the friend of Gen- 
 eral Jackson, he became bitterly opposed to the administration when 
 the General was elected President. This, united to his original and 
 quaint character, his perfect integrity and courage, and his odd and 
 expressive colloquial powers, made him a prodigious 'popularity in 
 anti-Jackson circles. He was quoted and feted on all hands ; his 
 sayings formed a part of the political capital and campaign phrase- 
 ology of his time ; and, upon a tour he mad'i in the North and East, 
 the people everywhere turned out en masse to meet and greet him. 
 In 1835, th^ whole power of the administration being put forth to 
 beat him, he lost his election by a scant majority. In his canvass he 
 said to the people, " If 3'ou reelect me to Congress, I will serve you 
 faithfully. If you don't, you may go to the devil, and I \\\\\ go to 
 Texas." In accordance with this promise, no sooner was the election 
 over and the result announced than he set out for the seat of war in 
 the young republic. He arrived in time to take part in the first bat- 
 tle and capture of San Antonio de Bexar, and to die bravely fighting 
 in the defense of the Alamo, the 6th of March, 1836. This sudden 
 and tragic end of a career so conspicuous and so whimsical made a 
 
246 ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN LIFE. 
 
 deep impression upon the country ; and ever since the nnme and fame 
 of Davy Crockett have held a lender ])lace in the reineml:)rance of his 
 countrymen. Colonel Crockett dictated quite a number of reminis- 
 cences and anecdotes of his adventures for publication, and from 
 such of these as seem authentic I have taken the following ex- 
 tracts : — 
 
 I. 
 
 A USEFUL COON SKIN. 
 
 While on the subject of election matters, I will 
 just relate a little anecdote about myself, which will 
 show the people to the east how we manage these 
 things on the frontiers. It was when I first run for 
 Congress ; I was then in favor of the Hero, for he 
 had chalked out his course so sleek in his letter to 
 the Tennessee legislature that, like Sam Patch, says 
 I, ''There can be no mistake in him," and so I went 
 ahead. No one dreamt about the monster and the 
 deposits at that time, and so, as I afterward found, 
 many like myself were taken in by these fair prom- 
 ises, which were worth about as much as a flash in 
 the pan when you have a fair shot' at a fat bear. 
 
 But I am losing sight of my story. Well, I started 
 off to the Cross Roads dressed in my hunting shirt, 
 and my rifle on my shoulder. Many of our constitu- 
 ents had assembled there to get a taste of the qual- 
 ity of the candidates at orating. Job Snelling, a 
 gander-shanked Yankee, who had been caught some- 
 wdiere about Plymouth Bay, and been shipped to the 
 West with a cargo of codfish and rum, erected a large 
 shantee, and set up shop for the occasion. A large 
 posse of the voters had assembled before I arrived, 
 and my opponent had already made considerable 
 headway with his speechifying and his treating, 
 
DAVY CROCKETT. 247 
 
 when they spied me about a rifle shot from the 
 camp, sauntering along as if I was not a party in 
 business. " There comes Crockett," cried one. *' Let 
 us hear the colonel," cried another ; and so I mounted 
 tl^e stump that had been cut down for the occasion, 
 and began to bushwhack in the most approved style. 
 
 I had not been up long before there was such an 
 uproar in the crowd that I could not hear my own 
 voice, and some of my constituents let me know 
 that they could not listen to me on such a dry sub- 
 ject as the welfare of the nation until they had 
 something to drink, and that I must treat them. Ac- 
 cordingly I jumped down from the rostrum, and led 
 the way to the shantee, followed by my constituents, 
 shouting, '* Huzza for Crockett," and " Crockett for- 
 ever ! 
 
 When we entered the shantee Job was busy deal- 
 ing out his rum in a style that showed he was mak- 
 ing a good day's work of it, and I called for a quart 
 ot the best ; but the crooked oritur returned no other 
 answer than by pointing to a board over the bar, on 
 which he had chalked in large letters, '* Pay to-d^y 
 and trust to-morrow.'" Now that idea brought me 
 up all standing ; it was a sort of cornering in which 
 there was no back out, for ready money in the West, 
 in those times, was the shyest thing in all natur, and 
 it was most particularly shy with me on that occa- 
 sion. 
 
 The voters, seeing my predicament, fell off to the 
 other side, and I was left deserted and alone, as the 
 Government will be, when he no longer has any 
 offices to bestow. I saw as plain as day that the 
 tide of popular opinion was against me, and that 
 unless I got some rum speedily I should lose my 
 
248 ODDITIES LV SOUTHERN LIFE. 
 
 election as sure as there are snakes in Virginny ; 
 and it must be done soon, or even burnt brandy 
 would n't save me. So I walked away from the 
 shantee, but in another guess sort from the way I 
 entered it, for on this occasion I had no train after 
 me, and not a voice shouted, " Huzza for Crockett." 
 Popularity sometimes depends on a very small mat- 
 ter indeed ; in this particular it was worth a quart 
 of New England rum, and no more. 
 
 Well, knowing that a crisis was at hand, I struck 
 into the woods, with my rifle on my shoulder, my 
 best friend in time of need ; and, as good fortune 
 would have it, I had not been out more than a quar- 
 ter of an hour before I treed a fat coon, and in the 
 pulling of a trigger he lay dead at the root of the 
 tree. I soon whipped his hairy jacket off his back, 
 and again bent my steps towards the shantee, and 
 walked up to the bar, but not alone, for this time I 
 had half a dozen of my constituents at my heels. I 
 threw down the coon skin upon the counter, and 
 called for a quart, and Job, though busy in dealing 
 out rum, forgot to point at his chalked rules and 
 regulations; for he knew that a coon was as good a 
 legal tender for a quart in the West as a New York 
 shilling any day in the year. 
 
 My constituents now flocked about me, and cried, 
 ''Huzza for Crockett," ''Crockett forever," and find- 
 ing the tide had taken a turn, I told them several 
 yarns to get them in a good humor ; and having soon 
 dispatched the value of the coon, I went out and 
 mounted the stump without opposition, and a clear 
 majority of the voters followed me to hear what I 
 had to offer for the good of the nation. Before I 
 was half through one of my constituents moved 
 
DAVY CROCKETT. 249 
 
 that they would hear the balance of my speech after 
 they had washed down the first part with some more 
 of Job Snelling's extract of cornstalk and molasses, 
 and the question being put, it was carried unani- 
 mously. It was n't considered necessary to tell the 
 yeas and nays, so we adjourned to the shantee, and 
 on the way I began to reckon that the fate of the 
 nation pretty much depended upon my shooting an- 
 other coon. 
 
 While standing at the bar, feeling sort of bashful 
 while Job's rules and regulations stared me in the face, 
 I cast down my eyes, and discovered one end of the 
 coon skin sticking between the logs that supported 
 the bar. Job had slung it there in the hurry of busi- 
 ness. I gave it a sort of quick jerk, and it followed 
 my hand as natural as if I had been the rightful 
 owner. I slapped it on the counter, and Job, little 
 dreaming that he was barking up the wrong tree, 
 shoved along another bottle, which my constituents 
 quickly disposed of with great good humor, for some 
 of them saw the trick ; and then we withdrew to the 
 rostrum to discuss the affairs of the nation. 
 
 I don't know how it was, but the voters soon be- 
 came dry again, and nothing would do but we must 
 adjourn to the shantee ; and as luck would have it, 
 the coon skin was still sticking between the logs, as 
 if Job had flung it there on purpose to tempt me. I 
 was not slow in raising it to the counter, the rum 
 followed, of course, and I wish I may be shot if I 
 did n't, before the day was over, get ten quarts for 
 the same identical skin, and from a fellow, too, who 
 in those parts was considered as sharp as a steel 
 trap and as bright as a pewter button. 
 
 This joke secured me my election, for it soon cir- 
 
250 ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN LIFE. 
 
 Ciliated like smoke among my constituents, and they 
 allowed, with one accord, that the man who could 
 ^et the whip hand of Job Snelling in fair trade, 
 could outwit Old Nick himself, and was the real 
 grit for them in Congress. Job was by no means 
 popular ; he boasted of always being wide awake, 
 and that any one who could take him in was free 
 to do so, for he came from a stock that, sleeping or 
 waking, had always one eye open, and the other not 
 more than half closed. The whole family were 
 geniuses. His father was the inventor of wooden 
 nutmegs, by which Job said he might have made a 
 fortune, if he had only taken out a patent and kept 
 the business in his own hands ; his mother, Patience, 
 manufactured the first white oak pumpkin seeds of 
 the mammoth kind, and turned a pretty penny the 
 first season ; and his aunt Prudence w^as the first to 
 discover that corn husks, steeped into tobacco water, 
 would make as handsome Spanish wrappers as ever 
 came from Havana, and that oak leaves would an- 
 swer all the purpose of filling, for no one could dis- 
 cover the difference except the man who smoked 
 them, and then it would be too late to make a stir 
 about it. Job himself bragged of having made some 
 useful discoveries, the most profitable of which 
 was the art of converting mahogany sawdust into 
 cayenne pepper, which he said was a profitable 
 and safe business ; for the people have been so long 
 accustomed to having dust thrown in their e3^es 
 that there was n't much danger of being found out. 
 
 The way I got to the blind side of the Yankee 
 merchant was pretty generally known before elec- 
 tion day, and the result was that my opponent 
 might as well have whistled jigs to a milestone as 
 
DAW CROCKETT. 25 I 
 
 attempt to beat up for votes in that district. I beat 
 him out and out, quite back into the old year, and 
 there was scarce enough left of him, after the can- 
 vass was over, to make a small grease spot. He dis- 
 appeared without even leaving a mark behind ; and 
 such will be the fate of Adam Huntsman, if there is 
 a fair fight and no gouging. 
 
 After the election was over, I sent Snelling the 
 price of the rum, but took good care to keep the 
 fact from the knowledge of my constituents. Job 
 refused the money, and sent me word that it did 
 him good to be taken in occasionally, as it served to 
 brighten his ideas ; but I afterwards learnt when he 
 found out the trick that had been played upon him, 
 he put all the rum I had ordered in his bill against 
 my opponent, who, being elated with the speeches 
 he had made on the affairs of the nation, could not 
 descend to examine into the particulars of a bill of a 
 vender of rum in the small way. 
 
 11. 
 
 EN ROUTE FOR TEXAS. 
 
 I mounted my horse and pushed forward on my 
 road to Fulton. When I reached Washington, a 
 village a few miles from the Red River, I rode up to 
 the Black Bear tavern, when the following convert 
 sation took place between me and the landlord, 
 which is a pretty fair sample of the curiosity of some 
 folks : — 
 
 "Good morning, mister — I don't exactly recol- 
 lect your name now," said the landlord, as I alighted. 
 
 ** It 's of no consequence," said I. 
 
252 ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN LIFE. 
 
 "I 'm pretty sure I 've seen you somewhere." 
 
 " Very likely you may. I 've been there fre- 
 quently." 
 
 " I was sure 't was so ; but strange I sl:oulcl forget 
 your name," says he. 
 
 " It is indeed somewhat strange that you should 
 forget what you never knew," says I. 
 
 '' It is unaccountable strange. It 's what I 'm not 
 often in the habit of, I assure you. I have, for the 
 most part, a remarkably detentive memory. In the 
 power of people that pass along this way, I 've 
 scarce ever made, as the doctors say, a slapsiis slin- 
 kinn of this kind afore." 
 
 *' Eh heh ! " I shouted, while the critter con- 
 tinued. 
 
 " Traveling to the western country, I presume, 
 mister } " 
 
 "■ Presume anything you please, sir," said I ; " but 
 don't trouble me with your presumptions." 
 
 "O Lord, no, sir — I won't do that ; I 've no ideer 
 of that, — not the least ideer in the world," says 
 he. "I suppose you 've been to the westward afore 
 now t " 
 
 " Well, suppose I have ? " 
 
 ''Why, on that supposition, I was going to say 
 you must be pretty well — that is to say, you must 
 know something about the place." 
 
 "Eh heh!" I ejaculated, looking sort of mazed 
 full in his face. The tarnal critter still went ahead. 
 
 " I take it you 're a married man, mister } " 
 
 " Take it as you will, that is no affair of mine," 
 says I. 
 
 ''Well, after all, a married life is the most hap- 
 piest way of living ; don't you think so, mister? " 
 
DAVY CROCKETT. " 253 
 
 "Very possible," says I. 
 
 " I conclude you have a family of children, sir ? " 
 
 " I don't know what reason you have to conclude 
 so. 
 
 " Oh, no reason in the world, mister, not the 
 least," says he ; **but I thought I might just take 
 the liberty to make the presumption, you know ; 
 that's all, sir. I take it, mister, you 're a man about 
 my age ? " 
 
 " Eh heh ! " 
 
 " How old do you call yourself, if I may be so 
 bold ? " 
 
 ** You 're bold enough, the devil knows," says I ; 
 and as I spoke rather sharp, the varment seemed 
 rather staggered, but he soon recovered himself, and 
 came up to the chalk again. 
 
 " No offense, I hope — I — I — I — would n't be 
 thought uncivil, by any means ; I always calculate 
 to treat everybody with civility." 
 
 *' You have a very strange way of showing it." 
 
 "True, as you say, I ginerally take my own way in 
 these ere matters. Do you practice law, mister, or 
 farming, or mechanicals .-* " 
 
 '' Perhaps so," says I. 
 
 "Ah, I judge so ; I was pretty certain it must be 
 the case. Well, it 's as good business as any there 
 is followed nowadays." 
 
 *' Eh heh ! " I shouted, and my lower jaw fell in 
 amazement at his perseverance. 
 
 "I take it you've money at interest, mister.?" 
 continued the varment, without allowing himself 
 time to take breath. 
 
 ** Would it be of any particular interest to you to 
 find out } " says I. 
 
254 ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN LIFE. 
 
 "Oh, not at all, not the least in the world, sir; 
 I 'm not at all inquisitive about other people's mat- 
 ters ; I minds my own business, — that 's my way." 
 
 " And a very odd way you have of doing it, too." 
 
 " I 've been thinking what persuasion you 're of, — ■ 
 whether you 're a Unitarian or Baptist, or whether 
 you belong to the Methodisses." 
 
 " Well, what 's the conclusion } " 
 
 " Why, I have concluded that I 'm pretty near 
 right in my conjectures. Well, after all, I 'm in- 
 clined to think they 're the nearest right of any per- 
 suasion — though some folks think differently." 
 
 " Eh heh ! " I shouted again. 
 
 "As to pollyticks, I take it, you — that is to say, 
 I suppose, you " — 
 
 " Very likely." 
 
 " Ah ! I could have sworn it was so from the mo- 
 ment I saw you. I have a knack at finding out a 
 man's sentiments. I dare say, mister, you 're a jus- 
 tice in your own country .? " 
 
 " And if I may return the compliment, I should 
 say you *re a just ass everywhere." But this time I 
 began to get weary of his impertinence, and led my 
 horse to the trough to water, but the darned critter 
 followed me up. 
 
 " Why, yes," said he, " I 'm in the commission of 
 the peace, to be sure — and an officer in the militia, 
 — though, between you and I, I would n't wish to 
 boast of it." 
 
 My horse having finished drinking, I put one foot 
 in the stirrup, and was preparing to mount. " Any 
 more inquiries to make .'' " said I. 
 
 " Why, no, nothing to speak on," said he. *' When 
 do you return, mister ? " 
 
DAVY CROCKETT. 255 
 
 "About the time I come back," said I ; and, leap- 
 ing into the saddle, galloped off. The pestiferous 
 v^arment bawled after me, at the top of his voice, — 
 
 '* Well, I shall look for ye, then. I hope you won't 
 fail to call." 
 
 Now, who in all natur do you reckon the critter 
 was who afforded so fine a sample of the imper- 
 tinent curiosity that some people have to pry into 
 other people's affairs ? 
 
 I knew him well enough at first sight, though he 
 seemed to have forgotten me. It was no other than 
 Job Snelling, the manufacturer of cayenne pepper 
 out of mahogany sawdust, and upon whom I played 
 the trick with the coon skin. I pursued my journey 
 to Fulton, and laughed heartily to think wdiat a 
 swither I had left poor Job in, at not gratifying his 
 curiosity ; for I knew he was one of those fellows 
 A^ho would peep down your throat just to ascertain 
 what you had eaten for dinner. 
 
 III. 
 
 THE GAME OF THIMBLERIG. 
 
 I saw a small cluster of passengers at one end of 
 the boat, and hearing an occasional burst of laughter, 
 thinks I, there 's some sport started in that quarter, 
 and having nothing better to do, I '11 go in for my 
 share of it. Accordingly, I drew nigh to the cluster, 
 and seated on the chest was a tall, lank, sea-sarpent 
 looking blackleg, who had crawled over from Natchez 
 under the hill, and was amusing the passengers with 
 his skill at thimblerig ; at the same time he was 
 picking up their shillings just about as expeditiously 
 
256 ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN LIFE. 
 
 as a hungry gobbler would a pint of corn. He was 
 doing what might be called an average business in a 
 small way, and lost no time in gathering up the frag- 
 ments. 
 
 I watched the whole process for some time, and 
 found that he had adopted the example set by the 
 old tempter himself, to get the weathergage of us 
 poor weak mortals. He made it a point to let his 
 victims win always the first stake, that they might 
 be tempted to go ahead ; and then, when they least 
 suspected it, he would come down upon them like a 
 hurricane in a cornfield, sweeping all before it. 
 
 I stood looking on, seeing him pick up the chicken 
 feed from the greenhorns, and thought if men are 
 such darned fools as to be cheated out of their hard 
 earnings by a fellow who has just brains enough to 
 pass a pea from one thimble to another, with such 
 sleight of hand that you could not tell under which 
 he had deposited it, it is not astonishing that the 
 magician of Kinderhook should play thimblerig upon 
 the big figure, and attempt to cheat the whole na- 
 tion. I thought that "the Government" was play- 
 ing the same game with the deposites, and with such 
 address, too, that before long it will be a hard matter 
 to find them under any of the thimbles where it is 
 supposed they have been originally placed. 
 
 The thimble conjurer saw me looking on, and, 
 eyeing me as if he thought I would be a good sub- 
 ject, said carelessly, '* Come, stranger, won't you 
 take a chance t " the whole time passing the pea 
 from one thimble to the other, by way of throwing 
 out a bait for the gudgeons to bite at. 
 
 " I never gamble, stranger," says I ; '' principled 
 against it ; think it a slippery way of getting through 
 the world, at best." 
 
DAVY CROCKETT. 257 
 
 " Them are my sentiments to a notch," says he ; 
 "but this is not gambling, by no means. A Httle 
 innocent pastime, nothing more. Better take a hack 
 by way of trying your luck at guessing." All this 
 time he continued working with his thimbles ; first 
 putting the pea under one which was plain to be 
 seen, and then, uncovering it, would show that the 
 pea was there ; he would then put it under the 
 second thimble, and do the same, and then under 
 the third : all of which he did to show how easy it 
 would be to guess where the pea was deposited, if 
 one would only keep a sharp lookout. 
 
 '* Come, stranger," says he to me again, "you had 
 better take a chance. Stake a trifle, I don't care 
 how small, just for the fun of the thing." 
 
 *' I am principled against betting money," says I, 
 " but I don't mind going in for drinks for the pres- 
 ent company, for I 'm as dry as one of little Isaac 
 Hill's regular set of speeches." 
 
 " I admire your principles," says he, "and to show 
 that I play with these here thimbles just for the sake 
 of pastime I will take that bet, though I am a whole 
 hog temperance man. Just say when, stranger." 
 
 He continued all the time slipping the pea from 
 one thimble to another ; my eye was as keen as a 
 lizard's, and when he stopped I cried out, " Now, 
 the pea is under the middle thimble." He was go- 
 ing to raise it to show that it was n't there, when 
 I interfered, and said, " Stop, if you please," and 
 raised it myself, and sure enough the pea was there ; 
 but it mought have been otherwise if he had had 
 the uncovering of it. 
 
 "Sure enough, you've won the bet," says he. 
 ^^ Ycu 've a sharp eye, but I don't care if I give you 
 
 17 
 
258 ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN LIFE. 
 
 another chance. Let us go fifty cents this bout ; 
 I 'm sure you '11 win." 
 
 *' Then you 're a darned fool to bet, stranger," 
 says I ; " and since that is the case, it would be lit- 
 tle better than picking your pocket to bet with you ; 
 so I '11 let it alone." 
 
 " I don't mind running the risk," said he. 
 
 " But I do," says I ; *' and since I always let well 
 enough alone, and I have had just about glory 
 enough for one day, let us all go to the bar and liq- 
 uor." 
 
 This called forth a loud laugh at the thimble con- 
 jurer's expense ; and he tried hard to induce me to 
 take just one chance more, but he mought just as 
 well have sung psalms to a dead horse, for my mind 
 was made up ; and I told him that I looked upon 
 gambling as about the dirtiest way that a man could 
 adopt to get through this dirty world ; and that I 
 would never bet anything beyond a quart of whisky 
 upon a rifle shot, which I considered a legal bet, and 
 gentlemanly and rational amusement. *' But all this 
 cackling," says I, " makes me very thirsty, so let us 
 adjourn to the bar and liquor." 
 
 He gathered up his thimbles, and the whole com- 
 pany followed us to the bar, laughing heartily at the 
 conjurer; for, as he had won some of their money, 
 they were sort of delighted to see him beaten with 
 his own cudgel. He tried to laugh, too, but his laugh 
 was n't at all pleasant, and rather forced. The bar- 
 keeper placed a big-bellied bottle before us ; and 
 after mixing our liquor, I was called on for a toast 
 by one of the company, a chap just about as rough 
 hewn as if he had been cut out of a gum log with a 
 broad-axe, and sent into the market without even be- 
 
DAVY CROCKETT. 259 
 
 ing smoothed off with a jack plane, — one of them 
 chaps who, in their journey through Ufe, are always 
 ready for a fight or a frolic, and don't care the toss of 
 a copper which. 
 
 *' Well, gentlemen," says I, " being called upon 
 for a toast, and being in a slave-holding State, in 
 order to avoid giving offense and running the risk 
 of being lynched, it may be necessary to premise 
 that I am neither an abolitionist nor a colonization- 
 ist, but simply Colonel Crockett of Tennessee, now 
 bound for Texas." When they heard my name they 
 gave three cheers for Colonel Crockett ; and silence 
 being restored, I continued, " Now, gentlemen, I 
 will offer you a toast, hoping, after what I have 
 stated, that it will give offense to no one present ; 
 but should I be mistaken, I must imitate the ' old 
 Roman,' and take the responsibility. I offer, gen- 
 tlemen. The abolition of slavery : let the work first 
 besfin in the two Houses of Consfress. There are no 
 slaves in the country more servile than the party 
 slaves in Congress. The wink or the nod of their 
 masters is all-sufficient for the accomplishment of 
 the most dirty work." 
 
 They drank the toast in a style that satisfied me 
 that the little Magician might as well go to a pigsty 
 for wool as to beat round in that part for voters : 
 they were all either for Judge White or Old Tippe- 
 canoe. The thimble conjurer, having asked the bar- 
 keeper how much there was to pay, was told that 
 there were sixteen smallers, which amounted to one 
 dollar. He was about to lay down the blunt, but 
 not in Benton's metallic currency, which I find has 
 already become as shy as honesty with an office- 
 holder, but he planked down one of Biddle's notes, 
 
260 ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN LIFE. 
 
 when I interfered, and told him that the barkeeper 
 had made a mistake. 
 
 " How so ? " demanded the barkeeper. 
 
 "How much do you charge," said I, "when you 
 retail your liquor ? '* 
 
 "A fip a glass." 
 
 ** Well, then," says I, *' as Thimblerig here, who 
 belongs to the temperance society, took it in whole- 
 sale, I reckon you can afford to let him have it at 
 half price ? '^ 
 
 Now as they had all noticed that the conjurer 
 went what is called the heavy wet, they laughed out- 
 right, and we heard no more about temperance from 
 that quarter. When we returned to the deck, the 
 blackleg set to work with his thimbles again, and 
 bantered me to bet ; but I told him that it was 
 against my principle, and as I had already reaped 
 glory enough for one day I would just let well 
 enough alone for the present. If the *' old Roman " 
 had done the same in relation to the deposites and 
 ^' the monster," we should have escaped more diffi- 
 culties than all the cunning of the Little Flying 
 Dutchman, and Dick Johnson to boot, will be able 
 to repair. I should n't be astonished if the new 
 Vice-President's head should get wool gathering 
 before they have half unraveled the knotted and 
 twisted thread of perplexities that the old General 
 has spun, — in which case his charming spouse will 
 rio doubt be delighted, for then they will be all in 
 the family way. What a handsome display they will 
 make in the White House ! No doubt the first act 
 of Congress will be to repeal the duties on Cologne 
 and Lavender waters, for they will be in great de- 
 mand about the Palace, particularly in the dog-days. 
 
DAVY CROCKETT. 26l 
 
 IV. 
 
 THE " LITTLE MAGICIAN." 
 
 One of the passengers, hearing that I was on 
 board of the boat, came up to me and began to talk 
 about the affairs of the nation, and said a good deal 
 in favor of " the Magician," and wished to hear 
 what I had to say against him. He talked loud, 
 which is the way with all politicians educated in the 
 Jackson school ; and by his slang-whanging drew a 
 considerable crowd around us. Now this was the 
 very thing I wanted, as I knew I should not soon 
 have another opportunity of making a political 
 speech ; he no sooner asked to hear what I had to 
 say against his candidate than I let him have it, 
 strong and hot as he could take, I tell you. 
 
 " What have I to say against Martin Van Buren ? 
 He is an artful, cunning, intriguing, selfish, specu- 
 lating lawyer, who, by holding lucrative offices for 
 more than half his life, has contrived to amass a 
 princely fortune, and is now seeking the presidency, 
 principally for sordid gain, and to gratify the most 
 selfish ambition. His fame is unknown to the his- 
 tory of cur county, except as a most adroit poHtical 
 manager and successful office-hunter. He never 
 took up arms in defense of his country, in her days 
 of darkness and peril. He never contributed a dol- 
 lar of his surplus wealth to assist her in her hours 
 of greatest want and weakness. Office and money 
 have been the gods of his idolatry ; and at their 
 shrines has the ardent worship of his heart been de- 
 voted, from the earliest days of his manhood to the 
 present moment. He can lay no claim to preemi- 
 
262 ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN LIFE. 
 
 nent services as a statesman ; nor has he ever given 
 any evidences of superior talent, except as a poUtical 
 electioneerer and intriguer. As a politician, he is 
 'all things to all men.' He is for internal improve- 
 ment, and against it ; for the tariff, and against it ; 
 for the bank monopoly, and against it ; for the abo- 
 lition of slavery, and against it ; and for anything 
 else, and against anything else, just as he can best 
 promote his popularity, and subserve his own private 
 interest. He is so totally destitute of moral cour- 
 age that he never dares to give an opinion upon any 
 important question until he first finds out whether 
 it will be popular or not. He is celebrated as the 
 'Little Non-Committal Magician,' because he en- 
 lists on no side of any question until he discovers 
 which is the strongest party ; and then always moves 
 in so cautious, sly, and secret a manner that he can 
 change sides at any time as easily as a juggler or a 
 magician can play off his arts of legerdemain. 
 
 "Who is Martin Van Buren .^ He is the candi- 
 date of the office-holders, and office-expectants, who 
 nominated him for the presidency at a convention 
 assembled in the city of Baltimore, in May last. 
 The first account we have of his political life is while 
 he was a member of the Senate of New York, at 
 the time when Mr. Clinton was nominated as the 
 federal candidate for the presidency, in opposition 
 to Mr. Madison. The support he then gave Mr. 
 Clinton afforded abundant evidence of that spirit of 
 opposition to the institutions of his country which 
 was prominently developed in the conduct of those 
 with whom he was united. Shortly after the suc- 
 cess of Mr. Madison, and during the prosecution of 
 the war, Rufus King, of New York (for whom Mr. 
 
BAVV CROCKETT. 263 
 
 Van Buren voted), was elected to the Senate of the 
 United States, avowedly opposed to the administra- 
 tion. Upon his entrance into that body, instead of 
 devoting his energies to maintain the war, he com- 
 menced a tirade of abuse against the administration 
 for having attempted relief to the oppressed seamen 
 of our gallant navy, who had been compelled by 
 British violence to arm themselves against their 
 country, their firesides, and their friends- Thus 
 Martin Van Buren countenanced by his vote in the 
 Senate of New York an opposition to that war, 
 which, a second time, convinced Great Britain that 
 Amicricans could not be awed into bondage and 
 subjection. 
 
 " Subsequent to this time, Mr. Van Buren became 
 himself a member of the United States Senate, and, 
 while there, opposed every proposition to improve the 
 West, or to add to her numerical strength. 
 
 " He voted against the continuance of the national 
 road through Ohio, Indiana, Illinois, and against ap- 
 propriations for its preservation, 
 
 '* He voted against the graduation of the price of 
 the public lands. 
 
 " He voted against ceding the refuse lands to the 
 States in which they lie. 
 
 " He voted against making donations of the lands 
 to actual settlers. 
 
 " He again voted against ceding the refuse lands, 
 not worth twenty-five cents per acre, to the new 
 States for purposes of education and internal im- 
 provement. 
 
 *' He voted <2^^z;/i-^ the bill providing 'settlement 
 and preemption rights ' to those who had assisted 
 in opening and improving the western country, 
 
264 ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN LIFE. 
 
 and thus deprived many an honest poor man of a 
 home. 
 
 "He voted against donations of land to Ohio, to 
 prosecute the Miami Canal ; and, although a mem- 
 ber of the Senate, he was not present when the vote 
 was taken upon the engrossment of the bill giving 
 land to Indiana for her Wabash and Erie Canal, and 
 was known to have opposed it in all its stages. 
 
 "He voted in favor of erecting toll gates on the 
 national road ; thus demanding a tribute from the 
 West for the right to pass upon her own highways, 
 constructed out of her own money, — a thing never 
 heard of before. 
 
 " After his term of service had expired in the 
 Senate, he was elected Governor of New York, by 
 a plurality of votes. He was afterwards sent to 
 England as minister plenipotentiary, and upon his 
 return was elected Vice-President of the United 
 States, which office he now holds, and from which 
 the office-holders are seeking to transfer him to the 
 presidency." 
 
 My speech was received with great applause, and 
 the politician, finding that I was better acquainted 
 with his candidate than he was himself, for I wrote 
 his life, shut his fly trap, and turned on his heel 
 without •saying a word. He found that he had 
 barked up the wrong tree. I afterward learnt that 
 he was a mail contractor in those parts, and that he 
 also had large dealings in the land office, and there- 
 fore thought it necessary to chime in with his penny 
 whistle, in the universal chorus. There 's a large 
 band of the same description, but I 'm thinking 
 Uncle Sam will some day find out that he has paid 
 too much for the piper. 
 
J. PROCTOR KNOTT. 
 
 I AM conscious of many omissions in this attempt to illustrate the 
 humorous characteristics of Southern life ; but these omissions would 
 be inexcusable if they should include Proctor Knott's famous " Du- 
 luth Speech." It made a great impression on the occasion of its 
 production in the House, and has since stood the test of time, being 
 still in greater demand than any other congressional document. In- 
 deed, as 2. jell d'esp7'it no less than a current hit, it possesses an en- 
 during title to the merit claimed for it, of being the most quaint and 
 genial effusion ever delivered before a deliberative body. Although 
 carefully elaborated, it is replete with Southernisms. Its identity 
 could nowhere be mistaken. It is essentially an offspring of the 
 imagination and intellect, the humor of the South. 
 
 The Hon. J. Proctor Knott was born near Lebanon, Kentucky, 
 August 29, 1830. He received a liberal education, and had been ad- 
 mitted to the bar before reaching his majority, beginning practice in 
 Missouri, whither he had removed on quitting school. His success- 
 was rapid and brilliant, so much so that, after serv^ing a term in the 
 Legislature, he was, in 1859, appointed Attorney-General of the State, 
 In 1862 he was elected by the people to this office ; but a year later 
 he returned to his old home in Kentucky, where he has since resided. 
 He was elected a Representative in Congress from his district in 
 1867, and, with the exception of two terras of voluntary retirement, 
 has served continuously ever since. During the 44th, 45th, and 46th 
 Congresses, he was chairman of the Judiciary Comm-ittee,. the first law 
 position of the House. 
 
 Mr. Knott, who in many respects recalls the versatile and brilliant 
 Thomas Corwin of other days, is, as Mr. Corwin used to be, a little 
 ashamed of his facetious performances. I am sorry to say that he 
 has done what he could to blot out the memcvry of " Duluth." An 
 able and learned jurist, an industrious, practical legislator with a rare 
 turn for the solemnities and solidarities of the public business, the 
 statesman is disposed to resent the imputation of being a humorist. 
 But, as nothing could suppress the exquisite Sdiire of the utterancCr 
 
266 ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN LIFE. 
 
 so nothing can obscure the shine and sparkle it has left behind it on 
 the dull and musty record of the debates of Congress. 
 
 Mr. Knott is as skillful with his pencil as with his tongue and pen ; 
 among his familiars a most genial companion, though somewhat 
 austere in his intercourse with the larger public ; temperate in his ex- 
 pression, but of opinions inflexible ; and respected wherever he is 
 known as one of the most upright and conscientious of our public 
 men. 
 
 The House having under consideration the joint 
 resolution (S. R. No. ii) extending the time to con- 
 struct a railroad from the St. Croix river or lake to 
 the west end of Lake Superior and to Bayfield — 
 
 Mr. Knott said : — 
 
 Mr. Speaker : If I could be actuated by any con- 
 ceivable inducement to betray the sacred trust re- 
 posed in me by those to whose generous confidence 
 I am indebted for the honor of a seat on this floor ; 
 if I could be influenced by any possible consideration 
 to become instrumental in giving away, in violation 
 of their known wishes, any portion of their interest 
 in the public domain for the mere promotion of any 
 railroad enterprise whatever, I should certainly feel 
 a strong inclination to give this measure my most 
 earnest and hearty support ; for I am assured that 
 its success would materially enhance the pecuniary 
 prosperity of some of the most vakied friends I have 
 on earth, — friends for whose accommodation I would 
 be willing to make almost any sacrifice not involv- 
 ing my personal honor or my fidelity as the trustee 
 of an express trust. And that fact of itself would 
 be sufficient to countervail almost any objection I 
 might entertain to the passage of this bill not in- 
 spired by an imperative and inexorable sense of 
 public duty. 
 
 But, independent of the seductive influences of pri- 
 
y. PROCTOR KNOTT. 26/ 
 
 vate friendship, to which I admit I am, perhaps, as 
 susceptible as any of the gentlemen I see around 
 me, the intrinsic merits of the measure itself are of 
 such an extraordinary character as to commend it 
 most strongly to the favorable consideration of ev- 
 ery member of this House, myself not excepted, not- 
 withstanding my constituents, in whose behalf alone 
 I am acting here, would not be benefited by its pas- 
 sage one particle more than they would be by a 
 project to cultivate an orange grove on the bleakest 
 summit of Greenland's icy mountains. [Laughter.] 
 
 Now, sir, as to those great trunk lines of railway, 
 spanning the continent from ocean to ocean, I con- 
 fess my mind has never been fully made up. It is 
 true thev mav afford some triflins: advantages to 
 local traffic, and they may even in time become the 
 channels of a more extended commerce. Yet I have 
 never been thoroughly satisfied either of the neces- 
 sity or expediency of projects promising such meagre 
 results to the great body of our people. But wilh 
 regard to the transcendent merits of the gigantic en- 
 terprise contemplated in this bill I never entertained 
 the shadow of a doubt. [Laughter.] 
 
 Years ago, when I first heard that there was 
 somewhere in the vast terra incognita^ somewhere in 
 the bleak regions of the great Northwest, a stream 
 of water known to the nomadic inhabitants of the 
 neighborhood as the river St. Croix, I became satis- 
 fied that the construction of a railroad from that 
 raging torrent to some point in the civilized world 
 was essential to the happiness and prosperity of the 
 American people, if not absolutely indispensable ^o 
 the perpetuity of republican institutions on this con- 
 tinent. [Great laughter.] I felt instinctively thsr 
 
268 ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN LIFE. 
 
 the boundless resources of that prolific region of 
 sand and pine shrubbery would never be fully devel- 
 oped without a railroad constructed and equipped at 
 the expense of the Government, and perhaps not 
 then. [Laughter.] I had an abiding presentiment 
 that, some day or other, the people of this whole 
 country, irrespective of party afifiliations, regardless 
 of sectional prejudices, and "without distinction of 
 race, color, or previous condition of servitude," 
 would rise in their majesty, and demand an outlet 
 for the enormous agricultural productions of those 
 vast and fertile pine barrens, drained in the rainy 
 season by the surging waters of the turbid St. Croix. 
 [Great laughter.] 
 
 These impressions, derived simply and solely 
 from the "eternal fitness of things," w^ere not only 
 strengthened by the interesting and eloquent debate 
 on this bill, to which I listened with so much pleas- 
 ure the other day, but intensified, if possible, as I 
 read over this morning the lively colloquy which 
 took place on that occasion, as I find it reported in 
 last Friday's *' Globe." I will ask the indulgence of 
 the House while I read a few short passages, which 
 are sufficient, in my judgment, to place the merits 
 of the great enterprise contemplated in the measure 
 now under discussion beyond all possible contro- 
 versy. 
 
 The honorable gentleman from Minnesota [Mr. 
 Wilson], who, I believe, is managing this bill, in 
 speaking of the character of the country through 
 which this railroad is to pass, says this: — 
 
 " We want to have the timber brought to us as cheaply 
 as possible. Now, if you tie up the lands in this way, so 
 ihat no title can be obtained to them, — for no settler will 
 
y. PROCTOR KNOTT. 269 
 
 go on these lands, for he cannot make a living, — you de- 
 prive us of the benefit of that timber." 
 
 Now, sir, I would not have it by any means in- 
 ferred from this that the gentleman from Minnesota 
 would insinuate that the people out in his section 
 desire this timber merely for the purpose of fencing 
 up their farms, so that their stock may not wander 
 off and die of starvation among the bleak hills of the 
 St. Croix. [Laughter.] I read it for no such pur- 
 pose, sir, and make no such comment on it myself. 
 In corroboration of this statement of the gentleman 
 from Minnesota, I find this testimony given by the 
 honorable gentleman from Wisconsin [Mr. Wash- 
 burn]. Speaking of these same lands, he says, — 
 
 " Under the bill, as amended by my friend from Min- 
 nesota, nine tenths of the land is open to actual settlers 
 at $2.50 per acre ; the remaining one tenth is pine-tim- 
 bered land, that is not fit for settlement, and never will 
 be settled upon ; but the timber will be cut off. I admit 
 that it is the most valuable portion of the grant, for most 
 of the grant is not valuable. It is quite valueless ; and if 
 you put in this amendment of the gentleman from In- 
 diana, you may as v/ell just kill the bill, for no man and 
 no company will take the grant and build the road." 
 
 I simply pause here to ask some gentleman better 
 versed in the science of mathematics than I am to 
 tell me, if the timbered lands are in fact the most 
 valuable portion of that section of country, and they 
 would be entirely valueless without the timber that 
 is on them, what the remainder of the land is worth 
 which has no timber on it at all. [Laughter.] 
 
 But further on I find a most entertaining and in- 
 structive interchange of views between the gentle- 
 man from Arkansas [Mr. Rogers], the gentleman 
 
2 JO ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN LIFE. 
 
 from Wisconsin [Mr. Wasburn], and the gentleman 
 from Maine [Mr. Peters] upon the subject of pine 
 lands generally, which I will tax the patience of the 
 House to read : — 
 
 *'Mr. Rogers. Will the gentleman allow me to ask him 
 a question ? 
 
 " Mr. Washburn, of Wisconsin. Certainly. 
 
 *- Mr. Rogers. Are these pine lands entirely worthless 
 except for timber .'' 
 
 " Mr. Washburn, of Wisconsin. They are generally 
 worthless for any other purpose. I am perfectly familiar 
 with that subject. These lands are not valuable for pur- 
 poses of settlement. 
 
 " Mr. Farnsworth. They will be after the timber is 
 taken off. 
 
 " Mr. Washburn, of Wisconsin. No, sir. 
 
 " Mr. Rogers. I want to know the character of these 
 pine lands. 
 
 " Mr. Washburn, of Wisconsin. They are generally 
 sandy, barren lands. My friend from the Green Bay dis^ 
 trict [Mr. Sawj'er] is himself perfectly familiar with this 
 question, and he will bear me out in what I say, that these 
 pine-timber lands are not adapted to settlement. 
 
 " Mr. Rogers. The pine lands to which I am accus- 
 tomed are generally very good. What I want to know is, 
 what is the difference between our pine lands and your 
 pine lands ? 
 
 " Mr. Washburn, of Wisconsin. The pine timber of 
 Wisconsin generally grows upon barren, sandy land. The 
 gentleman from Maine [Mr. Peters], who is familiar with 
 pine lands, will, I have no doubt, say that pine timber 
 grows generally upon the most barren lands. 
 
 " Mr. Peters. As a general thing pine lands are not 
 worth much for cultivation." 
 
 And further on I find this pregnant question, the 
 
J. PROCTOR KNOTT. 27 1 
 
 joint production of the two gentlemen from Wis- 
 consin : — 
 
 "Mr. Paine. Does my friend from Indiana suppose 
 that in any event settlers will occupy and cultivate these 
 pine lands ? 
 
 " Mr, Washburn, of Wisconsin. Particularly without 
 
 a railroad ? " 
 
 Yes, sir, " particularly without a railroad." It will 
 be asked after a while, I am afraid, if settlers will go 
 anywhere unless the Government builds a railroad 
 for them to go on. [Laughter.] 
 
 I desire to call attention to only one more state- 
 ment, which I think sufficient to settle the question. 
 It is one made by the gentleman from Wiconsin 
 [Mr. Paine], who says, — 
 
 " These lands will be abandoned for the present. It 
 may be that at some remote period there will spring up 
 in that re2:ion a new kind of as^riculture, which will cause 
 a demand for these particular lands ; and they may then 
 come into use and be valuable for agricultural purposes. 
 But I know, and I cannot help thinking that my friend 
 from Indiana understands, that for the present, and for 
 many years to come, these pine lands can have no pos- 
 sible value other than that arising from the pine timber 
 which stands on them." 
 
 Now, sir, who, after listening to this emphatic and 
 unequivocal testimony of these intelligent, competent, 
 and able-bodied witnesses, [laughter], who that is 
 not as incredulous as St. Thomas himself, will doubt 
 for a moment that the Goshen of America is to be 
 found in the sandy valleys and upon the pine-clad 
 hills of the St, Croix ? [Laughter.] Who will have 
 the hardihood to rise in his seat on this floor and 
 
2/2 ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN LIFE. 
 
 assert that, excepting the pine bushes, the entire 
 region would not produce vegetation enough in ten 
 years to fatten a grasshopper? [Great laughter.] 
 Where is the patriot who is willing that his country 
 shall incur the peril of remaining another day with- 
 out the amplest railroad connection with such an in- 
 exhaustible mine of agricultural wealth ? [Laughter.] 
 Who wdll answer for the consequences of abandon- 
 ing a great and warlike people, in possession of a 
 country like that, to brood over the indifference and 
 neglect of their Government .'' [Laughter.] How 
 long would it be before they would take to studying 
 the Declaration of Independence, and hatching out 
 the damnable heresy of secession } How long be- 
 fore the grim demon of civil discord would rear 
 again his horrid head in our midst, " gnash loud his 
 iron fangs, and shake his crest of bristling bayo- 
 nets " } [Laughter.] 
 
 Then, sir, think of the long and painful process of 
 reconstruction that must follow, with its concomitant 
 amendments to the Constitution ; the seventeenth, 
 eighteenth, and nineteenth articles. The sixteenth, it 
 is of course understood, is to be appropriated to those 
 blushing damsels who are, day after day, beseeching 
 us to let them vote, hold ofBce, drink cock-tails, ride 
 astraddle, and do everything else the men do. [Roars 
 of laughter.] But above all, sir, let me implore 
 you to reflect for a single moment on the deplorable 
 condition of our country in case of a foreign war, 
 with all our ports blockaded all our cities in a state 
 of siege ; the gaunt spectre of famine brooding like 
 a hungry vulture over our starving land ; our com- 
 missary stores all exhausted, and our famishing 
 armies withering away in the field, a helpless prey 
 
 \ 
 
y. PROCTOR KNOTT. 2/3 
 
 to the insatiate demon of hunger ; our navy rotting 
 in the docks for want of provisions for our gallant 
 seamen, and we without any railroad communication 
 whatever with the prolific pine thickets of the St. 
 Croix. [Great laughter.] 
 
 Ah, sir, I could very well understand why m^ 
 amiable friends from Pennsylvania [Mr. Myers, Mr. 
 Kelley, and Mr. O'Neill] should be so earnest in their 
 support of this bill the other day, and if their honor- 
 able colleague, my friend, Mr. Randall, will pardon 
 the remark, I will say I considered his criticism of 
 their action on that occasion as not only unjust, but 
 ungenerous. I knew they were looking forward 
 with the far-reaching ken of enlightened statesman- 
 ship to the pitiable condition in which Philadelphia 
 will be left, unless speedily supplied with railroad 
 connection in some way or other with this garden 
 spot of the universe. [Laughter.] And besides, sir, 
 this discussion has relieved my mind of a mystery 
 that has weighed upon it like an incubus for years. 
 I could never understand before why there was so 
 much excitement during the last Congress over the 
 acquisition of Alta Vela. I could never understand 
 why it was that some of our ablest statesmen and 
 most disinterested patriots should entertain such 
 dark forebodings of the untold calamities that w^ere 
 to befall our beloved country unless we should take 
 immediate possession of that desirable island. But 
 I see now that they were laboring under the mis- 
 taken impression that the Government would need 
 the guano to manure the public lands on the St. 
 Croix. [Great laughter.] 
 
 Now, sir, I repeat I have been satisfied for years 
 
 that if there was any portion of the inhabited globe 
 
 i8 
 
274 ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN LIFE. 
 
 absolutely in a suffering condition for want of a rail* 
 road it was these teeming pine barrens of the St. 
 Croix. [Laughter.] At what particular point on 
 that noble stream such a road should be commenced 
 I knew was immaterial, and so it seems to have been 
 considered by the draughtsman of this bill. It might 
 be up at the spring or down at the foot-log, or the 
 Watergate, or the fish-dam, or anywhere along the 
 bank, no matter where. [Laughter.] But in what 
 direction should it run, or where should it termi- 
 nate, were always to my mind questions of the most 
 painful perplexity. I could conceive of no place 
 on "God's green earth" in such straitened circum- 
 stances for railroad facilities as to be likely to desire 
 or willing to accept such a connection. [Laughter,] 
 I knew that neither Bayfield nor Superior City would 
 have it, for they both indignantly spurned the munif- 
 icence of the Government when coupled with such 
 ignominious conditions, and let this very same land 
 grant die on their hands years and years ago, rather 
 than submit to the degradation of a direct commu- 
 nication by railroad with the piny woods of the St. 
 Croix ; and I knew that what the enterprising in- 
 habitants of those giant young cities would refuse 
 to take would have few charms for others, whatever 
 their necessities or cupidity might be. [Laughter.] 
 Hence, as I have said, sir, I was utterly at a loss 
 to determine where the terminus of this great and 
 indispensable road should be, until I accidentally 
 overheard some gentlemen the other day mention 
 the name of " Duluth." [Great laughter.] Duluth ! 
 The word fell upon my ear with peculiar and inde- 
 scribable charm, like the gentle murmur of a low 
 fountain stealing forth in the midst of roses, or the 
 
y. PROCTOR KNOTT. 27$ 
 
 soft, sweet accents of an angel's whisper in the 
 bright, joyous dream of sleeping innocence. Duluth! 
 'T was the name for which my soul had panted for 
 years, as the hart panteth for the water-brooks. [Re- 
 newed laughter.] But where was Duluth ? Never, 
 in all my hmited reading, had my vision been glad- 
 dened by seeing the celestial word in print. [Laugh- 
 ter.] And I felt a profounder humiliation in my 
 ignorance that its dulcet syllables had never before 
 ravished my delighted ear. [Roars of laughter.] I 
 was certain the draughtsman of this bill had never 
 heard of it, or it would have been designated as 
 one of the termini of this road. I asked my friends 
 about it, but they knew nothing of it. I rushed to 
 the library, and examined all the maps I could find. 
 [Laughter.] I discovered in one of them a delicate, 
 hair-like line, diverging from the Mississippi near a 
 place marked Prescott, which I supposed was in- 
 tended to represent the river St. Croix, but I could 
 nowhere find Duluth. 
 
 Nevertheless, I was confident it existed some- 
 where, and that its discovery would constitute the 
 crowning glory of the present century, if not of all 
 modern times. [Laughter.] I knew it was bound 
 to exist in the very nature of things ; that the sym- 
 metry and perfection of our planetary system would 
 be incomplete without it [renewed laughter] ; that 
 the elements of material nature would long since 
 have resolved themselves back into original chaos, if 
 there had been such a hiatus in creation as would 
 have resulted from leaving out Duluth. [Roars of 
 daughter.] In fact, sir, I was overwhelmed with the 
 conviction that Duluth not only existed somewhere, 
 but that, wherever it was, it was a great and glorious 
 
276 ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN LIFE. 
 
 place. I was convinced that the i^reatest calamity 
 that ever befell the benighted nations of the ancient 
 world was in their having passed away without a 
 knowledge of the actual existence of Duluth ; that 
 their fabled Atlantis, never seen save by the hal- 
 lowed vision of inspired poesy, was, in fact, but an- 
 other name for Duluth ; that the golden orchard of 
 the Hesperides was but a poetical synonym for the 
 beer gardens in the vicinity of Duluth. [Great 
 laughter.] I was certain that Herodotus had died 
 a miserable death because in all his travels and with 
 all his geographical research he had never heard of 
 Duluth. [Laughter.] I knew that if the immortal 
 spirit of Homer could look down from another 
 heaven than that created by his own celestial genius 
 upon the long lines of pilgrims from every nation of 
 the earth to the gushing fountain of poesy opened 
 by the touch of his magic wand ; if he could be per- 
 mitted to behold the vast assemblage of grand and 
 glorious productions of the lyric art called into be- 
 ing by his own inspired strains, he would weep tears 
 of bitter anguish that, instead of lavishing all the 
 stores of his mighty genius upon the fall of Ilion, it 
 had not been his more blessed lot to crystallize in 
 deathless song the rising glories of Duluth. [Great 
 and continued laughter.] Yet, sir, had it not been 
 for this map, kindly furnished me by the Legislature 
 of Minnesota, I might have gone down to my ob- 
 scure and humble grave in an agony of despair, 
 because I could nowhere find Duluth. [Renewed 
 laughter.] Had such been my melancholy fate, I 
 have no doubt that, with the last feeble pulsation 
 of my breaking heart, with the last faint exhalation 
 of my fleeting breath, I should have whispered, 
 *' Where is Duluth ? " [Roars of laughter.] 
 
y. PROCTOR KNOTT. 2'J'J 
 
 But, thanks to the beneficence of that band of 
 ministering angels who have their bright abodes in 
 the far-off capital of Minnesota, just as the agony 
 of my anxiety was about to culminate in the frenzy 
 of despair, this blessed map was placed in my hands ; 
 and as I unfolded it a resplendent scene of ineffable 
 glory opened before me, such as I imagine burst 
 upon the enraptured vision of the wandering peri 
 through the opening gates of paradise. [Renewed 
 laughter.] There, there for the first time, my en- 
 chanted eye rested upon the ravishing word " Du- 
 luth." 
 
 This map, sir, is intended, as it appears from its 
 title, to illustrate the position of Duluth in the 
 United States ; but if gentlemen will examine it, I 
 think they will concur with me in the opinion that 
 it is far too modest in its pretensions. It not only 
 illustrates the position of Duluth in the United 
 States, but exhibits its relations with all created 
 things. It even goes farther than this. It lifts the 
 shadowy veil of futurity, and affords us a view of the 
 golden prospects of Duluth far along the dim vista 
 of ages yet to come. 
 
 If gentlemen will examine it, they will find Duluth 
 not only in the centre of the map, but represented 
 in the centre of a series of concentric circles, one 
 hundred miles apart, and some of them as much as 
 four thousand miles in diameter, embracing alike in 
 their tremendous sweep the fragrant savannas of 
 the sun-lit South and the eternal solitudes of snow 
 that mantle the ice-bound North. [Laughter.] How 
 these circles were produced is perhaps one of those 
 primordial mysteries that the most skillful paleolo- 
 gist will never be able to explain. [Renewed laugh* 
 
2^^ ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN LIFE., 
 
 ter.] But the fact is, sir, Duluth is preeminently a 
 central place, for I am told by gentlemen who have 
 been so reckless of their own personal safety as to 
 venture away into those awful regions where Duluth 
 is supposed to be that it is so exactly in the centre 
 of the visible universe that the sky comes down at 
 precisely the same distance all around it. [Roars of 
 laughter.] 
 
 I find by reference to this map that Duluth is 
 situated somewhere near the western end of Lake 
 Superior ; but as there is no dot or other mark in- 
 dicating its exact location, I am unable to say 
 whether it is actually confined to any particular spot, 
 or whether "it is just lying around there loose." 
 [Renewed laughter.] I really cannot tell whether 
 it is one of those ethereal creations of intellectual 
 frostwork, more intangible than the rose-tinted 
 clouds of a summer sunset, — one of those airy ex- 
 halations of the speculator's brain, which I am told 
 are ever flitting in the form of towns and cities 
 along those lines of railroad, built with Government 
 subsidies, luring the unwary settler as the mirage of 
 the desert lures the famishing traveler on, and ever 
 on, until it fades away in the darkening horizon, — 
 or whether it is a real bond fide, substantial city, all 
 ** staked off," with the lots marked with their own- 
 ers' names, like that proud commercial metropolis 
 recently discovered on the desirable shores of San 
 Domingo. [Laughter.] But, however that may be, 
 I am satisfied Duluth is there, or thereabout, for I 
 see it stated here on this map that it is exactly thir- 
 ty-nine hundred and ninety miles from Liverpool 
 [laughter], though I have no doubt, for the sake of 
 convenience, it will be moved back ten miles, so as 
 
y. PROCTOR KNOTT. 279 
 
 to make the distance an even four thousand. [Re- 
 newed laughter.] 
 
 Then, sir, there is the chmate of Duluth, unques- 
 tionably the most salubrious and delightful to be 
 found anywhere on the Lord's earth. Now, I have 
 always been under the impression, as I presume other 
 gentlemen have, that in the region around Lake Su- 
 perior it was cold enough for at least nine months in 
 the year to freeze the smoke-stack off a locomotive. 
 [Great laughter.] But I see it represented on this 
 map that Duluth is situated exactly half-way be- 
 tween the latitudes of Paris and Venice, so that gen- 
 tlemen who have inhaled the exhilarating airs of the 
 one or basked in the golden sunlight of the other 
 may see at a glance that Duluth must be a place 
 of untold delights [laughter], a terrestrial paradise, 
 fanned by the balmy zephyrs of an eternal spring, 
 clothed in the gorgeous sheen of ever-blooming 
 flowers, and vocal with the silvery melody of nat- 
 ure's choicest songsters. [Laughter.] In fact, sir, 
 since I have seen this map I have no doubt that 
 Byron was vainly endeavoring to convey some faint 
 conception of the delicious charms of Duluth when 
 his poetic soul gushed forth in the rippling strains 
 of that beautiful rhapsody : — 
 
 "Know ye the land of the cedar and vine, 
 Where the flowers ever blossom, the beams ever shine ; 
 Where the light wings of Zephyr, oppressed with perfume, 
 Wax faint o'er the gardens of Gul in her bloom ; 
 Where the citron and olive are fairest of fruit, 
 And the voice of the nightingale never is mute ; 
 Whe?e the tints of the earth and the hues of the sky, 
 In color though varied, in beauty may vie .-' " 
 
 [Laughter.] 
 
 As to the commercial resources of Duluth, sir. 
 
28o ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN LIFE. 
 
 they are simply illimitable and inexhaustible, as is 
 shown by this map. I see it stated here that there 
 is a vast scope of territory, embracing an area of 
 over two million square miles, rich in every element 
 of material wealth and commercial prosperity, all 
 tributary to Duluth. Look at it, sir [pointing to the 
 map]. Here are inexhaustible mines of gold, im- 
 measurable veins of silver, impenetrable depths of 
 boundless forest, vast coal-measures, wide, extended 
 plains of richest pasturage, all, all embraced in this 
 vast territory, which must, in the very nature of 
 things, empty the untold treasures of its commerce 
 into the lap of Duluth. [Laughter.] 
 
 Look at it, sir ! [Pointing to the map.] Do not 
 you see from these broad, brown lines drawn around 
 this immense territory that the enterprising inhabit- 
 ants of Duluth intend some day to inclose it all in 
 one vast corral, so that its commerce will be bound 
 to go there, whether it would or not t [Great laugh- 
 ter.] And here, sir [still pointing to the map], I find 
 within a convenient distance the Piegan Indians, 
 which, of all the many accessories to the glory of 
 Duluth, I consider by far the most inestimable. For, 
 sir, I have been told that when the small-pox breaks 
 out among the women and children of that famous 
 tribe, as it sometimes does, they afford the finest 
 subjects in the world for the strategical experiments 
 of any enterprising military hero who desires to im- 
 prove himself in the noble art of war [laughter] ; 
 especially for any valiant lieutenant, general whose 
 
 " Trenchant blade, Toledo trusty, 
 For want of fighting has grown rusty, 
 And eats into itself for lack 
 Of somebody to hew and hack." 
 
y. PROCTOR KNOTT. 28 1 
 
 [Great laughter.] 
 
 Sir, the great conflict now raging in the Old World 
 has presented a phenomenon in military science un- 
 precedented in the annals of mankind, — a phenom- 
 enon that has reversed all the traditions of the 
 past as it has disappointed all the expectations of the 
 present. A great and warlike people, renowned 
 alike for their skill and valor, have been swept away 
 before the triumphant advance of an inferior foe, 
 like autumn stubble before a hurricane of fire'. For 
 aught I know, the next flash of electric fire that 
 shimmers along the ocean cable may tell us that 
 Paris, with every fibre quivering with the agony of 
 impotent despair, writhes beneath the conquering 
 heel of her loathed invader. Ere another moon shall 
 wax and wane the brightest star in the galaxy of na- 
 tions may fall from the zenith of her glory never to 
 rise again. Ere the modest violets of early spring 
 shall ope their beauteous eyes, the genius of civiliza- 
 tion may chant the wailing requiem of the proudest 
 nationality the world has ever seen, as she scatters 
 her withered and tear-moistened lilies o'er the bloody 
 tomb of butchered France. But, sir, I wish to ask if 
 you honestly and candidly believe that the Dutch 
 would have ever overrun the French in that kind of 
 style if General Sheridan had not gone over there 
 and told King William and Von Moltke how he had 
 managed to whip the. Piegan Indians. [Great laugh- 
 ter.] 
 
 And here, sir, recurring to this map, I find in the 
 immediate vicinity of the Piegans " vast herds of 
 buffalo " and ** immense fields of rich wheat lands." 
 
 [Here the hammer fell.] 
 
 [Many cries : '' Go on ! " " Go on ! "] 
 
282 ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN LIFE. 
 
 The Speaker. Is there objection to the gentle- 
 man from Kentucky continuing his remarks ? The 
 Chair hears none. The gentleman will proceed. 
 
 Mr. Knott. I was remarking, sir, upon these vast 
 " wheat fields " represented on this map as in the 
 immediate neighborhood of the buffaloes and the 
 Piegans, and was about to say that the idea of there 
 being these immense wheat fields in the very heart 
 of a wilderness, hundreds and hundreds of miles be- 
 yond the utmost verge of civilization, may appear to 
 some gentlemen as rather incongruous, as rather too 
 great a strain on the "blankets" of veracity. But 
 to my mind there is no difficulty in the matter what- 
 ever. The phenomenon is very easily accounted 
 for. It is evident, sir, that the Piegans sowed that 
 wheat there and plowed it with buffalo bulls. [Great 
 laughter.] Now, sir, this fortunate combination of 
 buffaloes and Piegans, considering their relative 
 positions to each other and to Duluth, as they are 
 arranged on this map, satisfies me that Duluth is 
 destined to be the beef market of the world. 
 
 Here, you will observe [pointing to the map], are 
 the buffaloes, directly between the Piegans and Du- 
 luth ; and here, right on the road to Duluth, are the 
 Creeks. Now, sir, when the buffaloes are sufficiently 
 fat from grazing on these immense wheat fields, you 
 see it will be the easiest thing in the world for the 
 Piegans to drive them on down, stay all night with 
 their friends, the Creeks, and go into Duluth in the 
 morning. [Great laughter.] I think I see them 
 now, sir, a vast herd of buffaloes, with their heads 
 down, their eyes glaring, their nostrils dilated, their 
 tongues out, and their tails curled over their backs, 
 tearing along towards Duluth, with about a thousand 
 
y. PROCTOR KNOTT. 283 
 
 Piegans on their grass-bellied ponies yelling at their 
 heels ! [Great laughter.] On they come I And as 
 they sweep past the Creeks, they join in the chase, 
 and away they all go, yelling, bellowing, ripping, and 
 tearing along, amid clouds of dust, until the last 
 buffalo is safely penned in the stock-yards of Duluth ! 
 [Shouts of laughter.] 
 
 Sir, I might stand here for hours and hours, and 
 expatiate with rapture upon the gorgeous prospects 
 of Duluth, as depicted upon this map. But human 
 life is too short and the time of this House far too 
 valuable to allow me to linger longer upon the de- 
 lightful theme. [Laughter.] I think every gentle- 
 man on this floor is as well satisfied as 1 am that 
 Duluth is destined to become the commercial me- 
 tropolis of the universe, and that this road should be 
 built at once. I am fully persuaded that no pa- 
 triotic representative of the American people, who 
 has a proper appreciation of the associated glories 
 of Duluth and the St. Croix, will hesitate a moment 
 to say that every able-bodied female m the land, be • 
 tween the ages of eighteen and forty-five, who is in 
 favor of "women's rights " should be drafted and set 
 to work upon this great work without delay. [Roars 
 of laughter.] Nevertheless, sir, it grieves my very 
 soul to be compelled to say that I cannot vote for 
 the grant of lands provided for in this bill. 
 
 Ah, sir, you can have no conception of the poign- 
 ancy of my anguish that I am deprived of that 
 blessed privilege ! [Laughter.] There are two in- 
 superable obstacles in the way. In the first place, 
 my constituents, for whom I am acting here, have 
 no more interest in this road than they have in the 
 great question of culinary taste now perhaps agitat- 
 
284 ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN LIFE. 
 
 ing the public mind of Dominica, as to whether the 
 illustrious commissioners who recently left this capi- 
 tal for that free and enlightened republic would be 
 better fricasseed, boiled, or roasted [great laughter] ; 
 and, in the second place, these lands which I am 
 asked to give away, alas, are not mine to bestow ! 
 My relation to them is simply that of trustee to an 
 express trust. And shall I ever betray that trust ? 
 Never, sir! Rather perish Duluth ! [Shouts of 
 laughter.] Perish the paragon of cities ! Rather 
 let the freezing cyclones of the bleak Northwest 
 bury it forever beneath the eddying sands of the 
 raging St. Croix ! [Great laughter.] 
 
"BILL ARP." 
 
 " Bill Arp, so called," may be described as a rough-and-tumble, 
 random, local, current, and partisan dissertator upon the topics of the 
 time, and, in this character, has always enjoyed immense popularity 
 in the South. The greater part of the volume, from which the ac- 
 companying excerpts are taken, is made up of material the wit of 
 which lay largely in its relevancy and application. The writer, Mr. 
 Charles H. Smith, is a politician as well as a humorist, and in much 
 of his lucubration, produced just after the war, the feeling and sar- 
 casm are in excess of the humor. A former citizen and mayor of 
 Rome, in Georgia, Mr. Smith has, for several years, resided near At- 
 lanta. He is a lawyer by profession and practice, and assumes the 
 part of " Bill Arp " only on occasion and for a purpose. 
 
 BILL ARP ON LITIGATION. 
 
 The fust case I ever had in a Justice Court I em- 
 ploid old Bob Leggins, who was a sorter of a self- 
 eddicated fool. I giv him two dollars in advanse, 
 and he argud the case, as I thot, on two sides, and 
 was more luminus a2:in me than for me. I lost the 
 case, and found out atterwards that the defendant 
 had employed Leggins atter I did, and gin him five 
 dollars to lose my case. ' I look upon this as a 
 warnin' to all klients to pay big fees and keep your 
 lawver out of temtashun. 
 
 My xperience in liti2:asbun hav not been satisfak- 
 tory. I sued Sugar Black oust for the price of a 
 
286 ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN LIFE. 
 
 lode of shuks. He seel he wanted to buy sum ruff- 
 ness, and I agreed to bring him a lode of shuks for 
 two dollers. My waggin got broke and he got tired 
 a waitin', and sent out atter the shuks himself. 
 When I called on him for the pay, he seemed sur- 
 prised, and sed it had cost him two dollars and a 
 half to hav the shuks hauld, and that I justly owd 
 him a half a dollar. He were more bigger than I 
 was, so I swallerd my bile and sued him. His law^ 
 yer pled a set-off for haulin'. He pled that the shuks 
 was unsound ; that they was barred by limitashuns ; 
 that they did n't agree with his cow ; and that he 
 never got any shuks from me. He spoak about a 
 hour, and allooded to me as a swindler about forty- 
 five times. The bedevild Jewry went out, and brot 
 in a verdik agin me for fifty cents, and four dollars 
 for costs. I hain't saved many shuks on my planta- 
 shun sence, and I don't intend to til it gits less 
 xpensiv. I look upon this as a warnin' to all foaks 
 never to go to law about s kicks, or any other small 
 sirkumstanse. 
 
 The next trubble I had was with a feller I hired 
 to dig me a well. He was to dig it for twenty dol- 
 lers, and I was to pay him in meat and meal, and 
 sich like. The vagabon kep gittin' along til he got 
 all the pay, but had n't dug nary a foot in the ground. 
 So I made out my akkount, and sued him as follers, 
 to wit : — 
 
 Old John Hanks, to Bill Arp Dr. 
 
 To I well you did n't dig. ^20 
 
 Well, Hanks, he hired a cheep lawyer, who rared 
 round xtensively, and sed a heep of funny things at 
 my xpense, and finally dismissd my case for what 
 
BILL ARP. 287 
 
 he .calld its "ridikulum abserdum." I paid those 
 costs, and went home a sadder and a wiser man. I 
 pulld down my little kabbin and mooved it sum 
 three hundred yards nigher the spring, and I hav 
 drunk mity little well water sence. I look upon this 
 case as a warnin' to all foaks never to pay for euy- 
 t hi Jig till y on git it, espesJially if it has to be dug. 
 
 The next law case I had I ganed it all by myself, 
 by the forse of sirkumstanses. I bot a man's note 
 that was giv for the hire of a nigger boy, Dik. 
 Findin' he would n't pay me, I sued him before old 
 Squire Maginnis, beleevin' that it was sich a ded 
 thing that the devil could n't keep me out of a ver- 
 dik. The feller pled failur of konsiderashun, and 
 no7i est faktuvty and ignis fatnis, and infansy, and 
 that the nigger's name was n't Dik, but Richard. 
 The old Squire was a powerful sesesh, and hated 
 the Yankees amazin'. So, atter the lawyer had got 
 thru his speech and finished up his readin' from a 
 book called '' Greenleaf," I rose forward to a atti- 
 tood. Stretchin' forth my arms, ses I, " Squire Ma- 
 ginnis, I would ax, sur, if this is a time in the his- 
 try of our afflikted kountry when Yankee law books 
 should be admitted in a Southern patriot's Court ? 
 Hain't we got a State of our own and a code of 
 Georgy laws that 's printed on Georgy sile ? On 
 the very fust page of the gentleman's book I seed 
 the name of the sitty of Bosting. Yes, sur, it was 
 ritten in Bosting, where they don't know no more 
 about the hire of a nigger than an ox knows the 
 man who will tan his hide." I sed sum more things 
 that was pinted and patriotik, and closd my argy- 
 ment by handin' the book to the Squire. He put 
 on his speks, and atter lookin' at the book about a 
 minit, ses he, — 
 
288 ODDITIES IN SOCfTHERN LIFE. 
 
 *' Mr. Arp, you can have a judgment, and I hope 
 that from hensefourth no lawyer will presoom to 
 cum before this honerabul court with pisen doky- 
 ments to proove his case. If he do, this court will 
 take it as an insult, and send him to jail." 
 
 I look upon this case as a warnin' to all foaks who 
 gambel in law to hold a good hand and play it well. 
 High jestice and patriotism are winning trumps. 
 
 My next case was about steeUn' a hog. Larseny 
 from the woods, I think they call it. I did n't hav 
 but one hog, and we had to let him run out to keep 
 him alive, for akorns was cheeper than corn at my 
 house. Old Romulus Ramsour sorter wanted sum 
 fresh meat, and so he shot my shote in the woods, 
 and was catched carrying him home. He had cut 
 off his ears and throwed em away ; but we found 
 em, with the under bit in the right and swaller fork 
 in the left, and so Romulus was brot up square be- 
 fore the Jewry, and his defense w^as that it was a 
 wild hog. The Jewry was out about two hours and 
 brot in a verdik : " We the Jewry know that shortly 
 atter the war the kountry was scarce of provishuns, 
 and in considerashun of the hard time our poor pee- 
 pul had in maintanin' their families, and the temta- 
 shuns that surrounded em, we find the defendant 
 not guilty, but we rekommend him not to do so any 
 more." The motto of this case is that a man ortent 
 to keep hogs in a poor naberhood. 
 
 After this I had a diffikulty with a man by the 
 name of Kohen, and I thot I would n't go to law, 
 but would arbytrate. I had bot Tom Swillins' 
 wheat at a dollar a bushel, (f he couldnt do any bet- 
 ter, and if he could do better he was to cum back 
 Biud giv me the prejfej'ense. The skamp went off and 
 
BILL ARP, 289 
 
 sold the wheat to Kohen for a dollar and five cents, 
 and Kohen knowd all about his kontrak with me. 
 Me and him lik to hav fit, and perhaps would, if I 
 had n't been puny : but we finally left it to Josh 
 Billins to arbytrate. Old Josh deliberated on the 
 thing three days and nites, and finally brot in an 
 award that Kohen should hav the wheat and / 
 should hav the preffereiise. I hain't submitted no 
 more cases to arbytration sinse, and my advise to 
 all peepul is to arbytrate nuthin' if your case is hon- 
 est, for there ain't no judge there to keep one man 
 from trikkin' the other. An honest man don't stan 
 no chance nowhere xceptin' in a court house with a 
 good lawyer to back him. The motto of this case 
 is, never to arbytrate nuthin' but a bad case, and 
 take a good lawyer to advise, and pay him fur it be- 
 fore you do that. 
 
 But I got Fretman. / did n't, but my lawyer, 
 Marks, did. Fretman was a nutmeg skhool teacher 
 who had gone round my naborhood w^ith his skool 
 artikles, and I put down of Troup and Calhoun to 
 go, and intended to send seven or eight more if he 
 proved himself right. I soon found that the little 
 nullifiers warn't lernin' enything, and on inquiry I 
 found that nutmeg was a givin' powerful long re- 
 sessess, and employin' his time cheefly in carryin' 
 on with a tolerbul sized female gal that was a goin* 
 to him. Troup sed he heerd the gal squeel one day, 
 and he knowd Fretman was a squeezin' of her. I 
 I don't mind our boys a squeezin' of the Yankee 
 gals, but I '11 be blamed if the Yankees shall be a 
 squeezin' ourn. So I got mad and took the childern 
 away. At the end of the term Fretman sued me for 
 eighteen dollars, and hired a cheep lawyer to koUekt 
 
 ^9 
 
290 ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN LIFE. 
 
 it. Before this time I had lerned sum sense about 
 a lawyer, so I hired a good one, and spred my pokit 
 book down before him, and told him to take what 
 would satisfi him. And he took. Old Phil Davis 
 was the jestice. Marks made the openin' speech to 
 the effek that every profeshunal man ort to be able 
 to illustrate his trade, and he therefore proposed to 
 put Mr. Fretman on the stan and spell him. This 
 moshun was font hard, but it agreed with old Phil's 
 noshuns of '' high jestice," and ses he, " Mr. Fret- 
 man, you will hav to spell, sur." Marks then swore 
 him that he would giv true evidense in this case, and 
 that he would spell evry word in Dan'l Webster's 
 spellin' book correkly to the best of his knowledge 
 and beleef, so help him, etc. I saw then that he 
 were a tremblin' all over like a cold wet dog. Ses 
 Marks, *' Mr. Fretman, spell ' tisik.' " Well, he 
 spelt it, puttin' in 3.ph and a th and 2i gk and a zh, 
 and I don't know what all, and I thot he were gone 
 up the fust pop, but Marks sed it were right. He 
 then spelt him right strate along on all sorts of big 
 words, and little words, and long words, and short 
 words, and he knowd 'em all, til finally Marks ses, 
 "Now, sur, spell ' Ompompynusuk.' " Fretman 
 drawd a long breth and sed it warn't in the book. 
 Marks proved it was by a old preecher who was a 
 settin' by, and old Phil spoke up with power, ses he, 
 *' Mr. Fretman, you must spell it, sur," Fretman 
 was a swettin' like a run down filly. He took one 
 pass at it, and missd. 
 
 "You can cum down, sur," ses Marks, ''you've 
 lost your case ; " and shore enuf, old Phil giv a ver- 
 dik agin him like a darn. 
 
 Marks was a whale in his way. At the same 
 
BILL ARP. 291 
 
 court he was about to nonsoot a Doktor bekaus he 
 did n't hav his diplomy, and the Doktor begged the 
 court for time to go home after it. He rode seven 
 miles and back as hard as he could lick it, and 
 when he handed it over, Marks, ses he, " Now, sur, 
 you will just take the stand and translate this lattin' 
 into English, so that the court may onderstand it." 
 Well, he jest caved, for he could n't do it. 
 
 He lost his case in two minits, for the old squire 
 sed that a dokter who could n't read his diplomy 
 had no more right to praktise than a magistrate 
 what could n't read the license had to jine two cuple 
 
 together! 
 
 II. 
 
 A FEW OF MR. ARP S REFLECTIONS. 
 
 I rekon I 've lived as much as mostfoaks accordin* 
 to age, and I ain't tired of livin' yit. I like it. I 've 
 seen good times, and bad times, and hard times, and 
 times that tried men's soles, but I never seed a time 
 that I couldent extrakt sum cumfort out of trubble. 
 When I was a boy I was a lively little devil, and lost 
 my edycashun bekaus I could n't see enuf fun in 
 the spellin' book to get thru it. I 'm sorry for it 
 now, for a blind man can see what a fool I am. The 
 last skhoolin' I got was the day I run from John 
 Norton, and there was so much fun in that my 
 daddy sed he rekoned I 'd got larnin' enuf. I had 
 a bile on my back as big as a ginney ^gg, and it was 
 mighty nigh ready to bust. We boys had got in a 
 way of ringin' the bell before old Norton got there, 
 and he sed that the first boy he kotch at it would 
 ketch hail kolumby. Shore enuf he slipped upon 
 
292 ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN LIFE. 
 
 US one mornin', and before I knovvd it he had me b)! 
 the collar, and was layin' it on like killin' snakes. I 
 hollered, " My bile, my bile, don't hit me on my bile," 
 and just then he popped a center shot, and I jumped 
 three feet in the atmosphere, and with a hoop and a 
 beller I took to my heels. I run and hollered like 
 the devil was after me, and shore enuf he was. His 
 long legs gained on me at every jump, but just as 
 he was about to grab me I made a double on him, 
 and got a fresh start. I was aktiv as a cat, and so 
 we had it over fences, thru the woods, and round the 
 meetin' house, and all the boys was standin' on skool 
 house hill a hollerin', '* Go it, my Bill — go it, my 
 Bill." As good luck would have it there was a grape 
 vine a swingin' away ahead of me, and I ducked my 
 head under it just as old Norton was about two 
 jumps behind. He had n't seen it, and it took him 
 about the middle, and throwed him the hardest sum- 
 merset I ever seed a man git. He was tired, and I 
 knowd it, and I stopped about three rods off and 
 laffed at him as loud as I could ball. I forgot all 
 about my bile. He never follered me another step, 
 for he was plum giv out, but he set there bareheaded 
 and shook his hickory at me, lookin' as mad and as 
 miserable as possible. That lick on my bile was 
 about the keenest pain I ever felt in my life, and 
 like to have killed me. It busted as wide open as 
 a soap trof, and let every 'drop of the juice out, but 
 I 've had a power of fun thinkin' about it for the 
 last forty years. 
 
 But I did n't start to tell you about that. 
 
BILL ARP. 293 
 
 JIM ALLCORN. 
 
 I was only thinkin' how much better it is to be in 
 a lively humor than be goin' about like a disap- 
 pointed ofifis seeker. Good humor is a blessed thing 
 in a family and smoothes down a heap of trubble. 
 I never was mad but a few times in my life, and 
 then I was n't mad long. Foaks thought I was mad 
 when I fout Jim Allcorn, but I wasent. I never 
 had had any grudge agin Jim. He had never done 
 me any harm, but I could hear of his sayin' around 
 in the naborhood that Bill Arp had played cock of 
 the walk long enuf. So one day I went over to 
 Chulio court ground to joak with the boys, and 
 shore enuf Jim was there, and I soon perseeved that 
 the devil was in him. He had never been whipped 
 by anybody in the distrikt, and he outweighed me by 
 about fifteen pounds. A drink or two had made 
 him sassy, and so he commenced walkin' around 
 first to one crowd, and then another, darin' anybody 
 to fite him. He would pint to his forrerd and say, 
 " I '11 give anybody five dollars to hit that." I was 
 standin' tawkin' to Frank Air and John Johnsin, and 
 as nobody took up Jim's offer, thinks, says I to my- 
 self, if he cums round here a huntin' for a fite he 
 shall have one, by golly. If he dares me to hit him 
 I '11 do it if it 's the last lick I ever strike on this 
 side of Jordin. Frank Air looked at me, and seemed 
 to know what I was a thinkin', and says he, " Bill, 
 jest let Allcorn alone. He 's too big for you, and 
 besides, there ain't nothin' to fite about." By this 
 time Jim was makin' rite towards us. I put myself 
 in position, and by the time he got to us every 
 muscle in my body was strung as tite as a banjo. I 
 
294 ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN LIFE. 
 
 was worked up powerful, and felt like I could whip 
 a camp meetin'of wild cats. Shore enuf Jim stepped 
 up defiantly, and lookin' me rite in the eye, says he, 
 '* I dare anybody to hit that," and he touched his 
 knuckles to his forrerd. He had barely straitened 
 before I took him rite in the left eye with a sock- 
 dolyger that popped like a wagin' whip. It turned 
 him half round, and as quick as lightnin' I let him 
 hav another on the right temple, and followed it up 
 with a leap that sprawded him as flat as a foot mat. 
 I knowed my customer, and I never giv him time 
 to rally. If ever a man was diligent in business it 
 was me. I took him so hard and so fast in the eyes 
 with my fists, and in his bred basket with my knees, 
 that he did n't hav a chance to see or to breathe, 
 and he was the worst whipped man in two minets I 
 ever seed in my life. When he hollered I helped 
 him up and breshed the dirt off his clothes, and he 
 was as umble as a ded nigger and as sober as a 
 Presbyterian Preacher. We took a dram on the 
 strength of it, and was always good frends after- 
 wards. 
 
 But I dident start to tell you about that. 
 
 JIM PERKINS (cousin of Eli). 
 
 I jist wanted to say that I wasent mad with Jim 
 Allcorn, as sum peepul supposed ; but it do illus- 
 trate the onsertainty of human kalkulashuns in this 
 subloonery world. The disappintments of life are 
 amazin', and if a man wants to fret and grumble at 
 his luck he can find a reesunable oppertunity to do 
 so every day that he lives. Them sort of constitu- 
 tional grumblers ain't much cumpany to me. I 'd 
 rather be Jim Perkins with a bullit hole through me 
 
BILL ARP. 295 
 
 and take my chances. Jim, you know, was shot 
 down at Gains' Mill, and the ball went in at the um- 
 bilikus, as Dr. Battey called it, and cum out at the 
 backbone. The Doktor sounded him, and sez he, 
 "Jeems, my friend, your wound is mortal." Jim 
 looked at the Doktor, and then at me, and sez he, 
 " That 's bad, ain't it t " '* Mighty bad," sez I, and I 
 was as sorry for him as I ever was for anybody in 
 my life. Sez he, " Bill, I 'd make a will if it warn't 
 for one thing." ''What's that, Jim.?" sez I. He 
 sorter smiled and sez, " I hain't got nuthin' to will." 
 He then raised up on his elbow, and sez he, *' Dok- 
 tor, is there one chance in a hundred for me .-* " and 
 the Doktor sez, "Jest about, Jim." '' Well, then," sez 
 he, " I '11 git well — I feel it in my gizzard." He 
 looked down at the big hole in his umbilikus, and 
 sez he, '* If I do git well, won't it be a great naval 
 viktry, Doktor Battey 't " Well, shore enuff he did 
 git well, and in two months he was a fitin' the Yanks 
 away up in Maryland. 
 
 But I did n't start to tell you about that. 
 
 KE MACKOY. 
 
 I jest stuck it in by way of illustratin' the good 
 effeks of keepin' up one's spirits. My motto has 
 always been to never say die, as Gen. Nelson sed at 
 the battle of Madagascar, or sum other big river. 
 All things considered, I 've had a power of good 
 luck in my life. I don't mean money luck, by no 
 means, for most of my life I 've been so ded poor that 
 Lazarus would hev been considered a note shaver 
 compared with me. But I 've been in a heap of 
 close places, and sumhow always cum out rite side 
 up with keer. Speakin' of luck, I don't know that 
 
296 ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN LIFE. 
 
 I ever told you about that rasscl I had with Ike Mo 
 Koy at Bob Hide's barbyku. You see Ike was per- 
 haps the best rasler in all Cherokee, and he jest 
 hankered after a chance to break a bone or two in 
 my body. Now, you know, I never hunted for a fite 
 nor a fuss in my life, but I never dodged one. I 
 dident want a tilt with Ike, for my opinyun was that 
 he was the best man of the two, but I never sed 
 anything and jest trusted to luck. We was both at 
 the barbyku, and he put on a heap of airs, and 
 strutted around with his shirt collar open clean 
 down to his waist, and his hat cocked on one side 
 as sassy as a confedrit quartermaster. He took a 
 dram or two and stuffed himself full of fresh meat 
 at dinner time. Purty soon it was norated around 
 that Ike was going to banter me for a rassel, and, 
 shore enuff, he did. The boys were all up for sum 
 fun, and Ike hollered out, '' I '11 bet ten dollars I can 
 paster the length of any man on the ground, and I '11 
 giv Bill Arp five dollars to take up the bet." Of 
 course there was no gittin' around the like of that 
 The banter got my blood up, and so, without waitin' 
 for preliminaries, I shucked myself and went ia 
 The boys was all powerfully excited, and was a 
 bettin' evry dollar they could raise ; and Bob Moore, 
 the feller I had licked about a year before, jumped 
 on a stump and sed hed bet twenty dollars to ten 
 that Ike would knock the breath out of me the first 
 fall. I jest walked over to him with the money and 
 sed, " I '11 take that bet." The river was right close 
 to the ring, and the bank was purty steep. I had on 
 a pair of old breeches that had been sained in and 
 dried so often they was about half rotten. When 
 we hitched, Ike took good britches hold, and lifted 
 
BILL ARP. 297 
 
 me up and down a few times like I was a child. He 
 was the heaviest, but I had the most spring in me, 
 and so I jest let him play round for sum time, limber 
 like, until he suddenly took a notion to make short 
 work of it by one of his backleg movements. He 
 drawed me up to his body and lifted me in the air 
 with a powerful twist. Just at that minit his back 
 was close to the river bank, and as my feet touched 
 the ground I giv a tremenjius jerk backwards, and 
 a shuv fowards, and my britches busted plum open 
 on the back, and tore clean off in front, and he fell 
 from me and tumbled into the water, kerchug, and 
 went out of sight as clean as a mud turtle in a mill 
 pond. Such hollerin' as them boys done I rekon 
 never was heard in them woods. I jumped in and 
 helped Ike get out as he riz to the top. He had 
 took in a quart or two of water on top of his bar- 
 byku, and he set on the bank and throwd up enuf 
 vittels to feed a pack of houns for a week. When he 
 got over it he laffd, and sed Sally told him before he 
 left home he 'd better let Bill Arp alone — for no- 
 body could run agin his luck. Ike always believed 
 he would hav throwd me if britches holt hadent 
 broke, and I rekon may be he would. One thing is 
 sertin, it cured him of braggin', and that helps any- 
 body. I never did like a braggin' man. As a genrul 
 thing they ain't much akkount, and remind me of a 
 dog I used to have, named Cesar. 
 
 DOGS. 
 
 But I dident start to tell you a dog story — only 
 now, since I 've mentioned him, I must tell you a 
 circumstance about Cees. He was a middlin' size 
 broot, with fox ears and yaller spots over his eyes, 
 
298 ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN LIFE. 
 
 and could out bark and out brag all creation when 
 he was inside the yard. If another dog was goin' 
 along he 'd run up and down the palins and bark 
 and take on like he 'd give the world if that fence 
 wasent there. So one day when he was showin' off 
 in that way I caught him by the nap of the neck as 
 he run by me, and jest histed him right over and 
 drapped him. He struck the ground like an injun 
 rubber ball, and was back agin on my side in a 
 jiffy. If he had ever jumped that fence before I 
 dident know it. The other dog run a quarter of a 
 mile without stoppin'. Now, that 's the way with 
 sum foaks. If you want to hear war tawk jest put a 
 fence between em ; and if you want it stopped, jest 
 take the fence away. Dogs is mighty like peepul 
 anyhow. They 've got karacter. Sum of em are 
 good honest, trusty dogs that bark mity little, and bite 
 at the right time. Sum are good pluk, and will fite 
 like the dickens when their masters is close by to 
 back em, but ain't worth a cent by themselves. Sum 
 make it a bizness to make other dogs fite. You 've 
 seen these little fices a runnin' around growlin' and 
 snappin' when two big dogs cum together. They 
 are jest as keen to get up a row and see a big dog 
 fite as a store clerk or a shoemaker, and seem to en- 
 joy it as much. And then, there's them mean yaller 
 eyed bull terriers that don't care who they bite, so 
 they bite sumbody. They are no respekter of persons, 
 and I never had much respekt for a man who kept 
 one on his premises. But of all mean, triflin', con- 
 temptible dogs in the world, the meanest of all is a 
 country nigger's houn — one that will kill sheep, and 
 suck eggs, and lick the skillet, and steal evrything he 
 can find, and try to do as nigh like his master as pos- 
 
BILL ARP. 299 
 
 sibul. Sum dogs are filosofers, and study other dogs' 
 natur, just like foaks study foaks. It 's amazin' to 
 see a town dog trot up to a country dog and inter- 
 view him. How quick he finds out whether it will 
 do to attack him or not. If the country dog shows 
 fite jest notis the consequential dignity with which 
 the town dog retires. He goes off like there was a 
 sudden emergency of bisness a callin' him away. 
 Town dogs sumtimes combine agin a country dog, 
 jest like town boys try to run over country boys. I 
 wish you could see Dr. Miller's dog Cartoosh. He 
 jest lays in the piazzer all day watchin' out for a stray 
 dog, and as soon as he sees him he goes for him, and 
 he can tell in half a minit whether he can whip him 
 or run him ; and if he can, he does it instanter, and 
 if he can't, he runs to the next yard, where there 's 
 two more dogs that nabor with him, and in a minit 
 they all cum a tarin' out together, and that country 
 dog has to run or take a whippin', shore. I 've seen 
 Cartoosh play that game many a time. These town 
 pups remind me powerfully of small editurs prowlin* 
 around for news. In my opinyun they is the inven- 
 tors of the interview bisness. 
 
 INTERVIEWERS. 
 
 If it ain't a doggish sort of bisnes I 'm mistaken 
 in my idees of the proprietes of life. When a man 
 gits into trubble, these sub editurs go fur him right 
 strait, and they force their curosity away down into 
 his heart strings, and bore into his buzzom with an 
 augur as hard and as cold as chilld iron. Then 
 away they go to skatter his feelins and sekrets to 
 the wide, wide world. You see the poor feller can't 
 help himself, for if he won't talk they 'II go off and 
 
300 ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN LIFE. 
 
 slander him, and make the publik beleeve he 's dun 
 sumthing mean, and is ashamed to own it. I 've 
 knowd em to go into a dungeon and interview a 
 man who dident have two hours to live. Dod rot 
 em. I wish one of em would try to interview me. 
 If he dident catch leather under his coat tail it 
 would be bekaus he retired prematurely — that 's 
 all. But I like editurs sorter — especially sum. I 
 like them that is the guardeens of sleepin' liberty, 
 and good morals, and publik welfare, and sich like ; 
 but there 's sum kinds I don't like. Them what 
 makes sensation a bizness ; feedin' the peepul on 
 skandal, and crime, and gossip, and private quar-, 
 rels, and them what levies black mail on polytiks, 
 and won't go for a man who won't pay em, and 
 will go for a man that will. Them last watch for 
 elekshun times jest like a sick frog waitin' for rain. 
 
 As Bill Nations used to say, I 'd drather be a lu- 
 niak and gnaw chains in an asylum, than to be an 
 editur that evrybody feard and nobody respekted. 
 
 BILL NATIONS. 
 
 You never knowd Bill, I rekun. Hes gone to Ar- 
 kensaw, and I don't know whether hes ded or alive. 
 He was a good feller, Bill was, as most all whisky 
 drinkers are. Me and him both used to love it pow- 
 erful — especially Bill. We soaked it when we could 
 git it, and when we coudent we hankered after it 
 amazingly. I must tell you a little antidote on Bill, 
 tho I dident start to tell you about that. 
 
 We started on a little jurney one day in June, and 
 took along a bottle of ''old rye," and there was so 
 many springs and wells on the road that it was 
 mighty nigh gone before dinner. We took our 
 
BILL ARP. 301 
 
 snack, and Bill drained the last drop, for he said 
 we would soon git to Joe Paxton's, and that Joe al- 
 ways kept some. 
 
 Shore enuff Joe dident have a drop, and we con- 
 cluded, as we was mighty dry, to go on to Jim Al- 
 ford's, and stay all night. We knew that Jim had it, 
 for he always had it. So we whipped up, and the 
 old Bay had to travel, for I tell you when a man 
 wants whiskey everything has to bend to the gittin' 
 of it. Shore enuff Jim had some. He was mity 
 glad to see us, and he knovvd what we wanted, for 
 he knowd how it was hisself. So he brought out an 
 old fashend glass decanter, and a shugar bowl, and 
 a tumbler, and a spoon, and says he, " Now, boys, jest 
 wait a minit till you git rested sorter, for it ain't 
 good to take whiskey on a hot stomack. I 've jest 
 been readiu' a piece in Grady's newspaper about a 
 frog — the darndest frog that perhaps ever come 
 from a tadpole. It was found up in Kanetucky, and 
 is as big as a peck measure. Bill, do you take this 
 paper and read it aloud to us. I 'm a poor hand to 
 read, and I want to hear it. I '11 be hanged if it ain't 
 the darndest frog I ever hearn of." He laid the paper 
 on my knees, and I begun to read, thinkin' it was a 
 little short anticdote, but as I turned the paper over 
 I found it was mighty nigh a column. I took a side 
 glance at Bill, and I saw the little dry twitches a 
 jumpin' about on his countenance. He was mighty 
 nigh dead for a drink. I warent so bad off myself, 
 and I was about half mad with him for drainin' the 
 bottle before dinner ; so I just read along slow, and 
 stopped two or three times to clear my throat just to 
 consume time. Pretty soon Bill got up and com- 
 menced walkin' about, and he would look at the de- 
 
3v")J ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN LIFE. 
 
 kan^cr like he would give his daylights to choke the 
 corn juice out of it. I read along slowly. Old Al- 
 voyd was a listniu' and chawin' his tobakker and 
 spittin' out of the door. Bill come up to me, his 
 face red and twitchin', and leanin' over my shoulder 
 he seed the length of the story, and I will never for- 
 git his pityful tone as he whispered, ** Skip some. 
 Bill, for heaven's sake skip some." 
 
 My heart relented, and I did skip some, and hur- 
 ried through, and we all jined in a drink; but I'll 
 never forgit how Bill looked when he whispered to 
 me to ** skip some, Bill, skip some." I 've got over 
 the hke of that, bo^^s, and I hope Bill has, too, but I 
 don't know. I wish in my soul that everybody had 
 quit it, for you may talk about slavery, and peniten- 
 tiary, and chain-gangs, and the Yankees, and Gen- 
 eral Grant, and a devil of a wife, but whiskey is the 
 worst master that ever a man had over him. I know 
 how it is myself. 
 
 But there is one good thing about drinkin'. I al- 
 most wish every man was a reformd drunkard. No 
 man who has n't drank liker knows what a luxury 
 cold water is. I have got up in the night in cold 
 wether after I had been spreein' around, and gone 
 to the well burnin' up with thirst, feeling like the 
 gallows, and the grave, and the infernal regions was 
 too good for me, and when I took up the bucket in 
 my hands, and with my elbows a tremblin' like I had 
 the shakin' ager, put the water to my lips ; it was 
 the most delicious, satisfyin', luxurius draft that 
 ever went down my throat. I have stood there and 
 drank and drank until I could drink no more, and 
 gone back to bed thankin' God for the pure, inno- 
 cent, and coolin' beverig, and cursin' myself from 
 
BILL ARP. 303 
 
 my inmost soul for ever touchin' the accursed 
 whisky. In my torture of mind and body I have 
 made vows and promises, and broken em within a 
 day. But if you want to know the luxury of cold 
 water, get drunk, and keep at it until you get on fire, 
 and then try a bucket full with your shirt on at the 
 well in the middle of the night. You won't want a 
 gourd full — you'll feel like the bucket ain't big 
 enuf, and when you begin to drink an earthquake 
 could n't stop you. My fathers, how good it was ! 
 I know a hundred men who will swear to the truth 
 of what I say : but you see its a thing they don't 
 like to talk about. It 's too humiliatin'. 
 
 But I dident start to talk about drinkin'. In fact, 
 I 've forgot what I did start to tell you. My mind 
 is sorter addled now a days, anyhow, and I hav to jes 
 let my tawkin tumble out permiskuous. I '11 take 
 another whet at it afore long, and fill up the gaps. 
 
"UNCLE REMUS." 
 
 The publication of " Uncle Remus, his Sayings and his Songs, the 
 Folk-Lore of the Old Plantation, by Joel Chandler Harris," marks 
 something like the beginning of a new era in the provincial literature 
 of the South. It is in all respects, in graphic power and in spirit, tone, 
 and color, the best picture of negro life and character which has yet 
 appeared in any language. To the production of this masterpiece of 
 homely wisdom and humor, Mr. Harris brought a genius for subtle 
 observation and a thorough sympathy with his theme, which, though 
 professing the photographer's art merely, have in reality created a new 
 figure in fiction. In a carefully prepared and very suggestive intro- 
 duction to " Uncle Remus," Mr. Harris says : — 
 
 " I am advised by my publishers that this book is to be included in their catalogue 
 of humorous publications, and this friendly warning gives me an opportunity to say 
 that, however humorous it may be in effect, its intention is perfectly serious ; and, 
 even if it were otherwise, it seems to me that a volume written wholly in dialect 
 must have its solemn, not to say melancholy, features. With respect to the Folk- 
 Lore series, my purpose has been to preserve the legends themselves in their origi- 
 nal simplicity, and to wed them permanently to the quaint dialect — if, indeed, it 
 can be called a dialect — through the medium of which they have become a part of 
 the domestic history of every Southern family ; and I have endeavored to give to the 
 whole a genuine flavor of the old plantation. Each legend has its variants, but in 
 every instance I have retained that particular version which seemed to me to be the 
 most characteristic, and have given it without embellishment and without exaggera- 
 tion. The dialect, it will be observed, is wholly different from that of the Hon. 
 Pompey Smash and his literary descendants, and different also from the intolerable 
 misrepresentations of the minstrel stage, but it is at least phonetically genuine. 
 Nevertheless, if the language of Uncle Remus fails to give vivid hints of the really 
 poetic imagination of the negro ; if it fails to embody the quaint and homely humor 
 which was his most prominent characteristic; if it does not suggest a certain pict- 
 uresque sensitiveness, — a curious exaltation of mind and temperament not to be 
 defined by words, — then I have reproduced the form of the dialect merely, and not 
 the essence, and my attempt maybe accounted a failure. At any rate, I trust I ha^e 
 been successful in presenting what must be, at least to a large portion of American 
 readers, a new and by no means unattractive phase of negro character, — a phase 
 which may be considered a curiously sympathetic supplement to Mrs. Stowe's won- 
 derful defense of slavery as it existed in the South. Mrs. Stowe, let me hasten to 
 say, attacked the possibilities of slavery with all the eloquence of genius : but the 
 same genius painted the portrait of the Southern slave-owner, and defended him." 
 
UNCLE REMUS. 305 
 
 No one can read " Uncle Remus " and pronounce the purpose thus 
 set forth a failure. On the contrary, Mr. Harris has caught every ex- 
 pression, every phase, every intonation of the curious " sensitive- 
 ness " and " exaltation " of the negro character, and reproduced them 
 to the life. " The story of the rabbit and the fox," Mr. Harris con- 
 tinues, " as told by the Southern negroes, is artistically dramatic in 
 this : it progresses in an orderly way from a beginning to a well-de- 
 fined conclusion, and is full of striking episodes that suggest the cul- 
 mination. It seems to me to be to a certain extent allegorical, albeit 
 such an interpretation may be unreasonable. At least it is a fable 
 thoroughly characteristic of the negro ; and it needs no scientific in- 
 vestigation to show why he selects as his hero the weakest and most 
 harmless of all animals, and brings him out victorious in contests with 
 the bear, the wolf, and the fox. It is not virtue that triumphs, but 
 helplessness ; it is not malice, but mischievousness." 
 
 Joel Chandler Harris, the author of this rare and charming volume, 
 is a journalist of Atlanta, and yet a young man, having been born at 
 Eatonton, in Georgia, the 6th of December, 1846. 
 
 I. 
 
 UNCLE REMUS INITIATES THE LITTLE BOY. 
 
 One evening recently, the lady whom Uncle Re- 
 mus calls "Miss Sally" missed her little seven-year- 
 old. Making search for him through the house and 
 through the yard, she heard the sound of voices 
 in the old man's cabin, and, looking through the 
 window, saw the child sitting by Uncle Remus. 
 His head rested against the old man's arm, and he 
 was gazing with an expression of the most intense 
 interest into the rough, weather-beaten face that 
 beamed so kindly upon him. This is what *' Miss 
 Sally" heard: — 
 
 " Bimeby, one day, arter Brer Fox bin doin' all 
 dat he could fer ter ketch Brer Rabbit, en Brer Rab- 
 bit bin doin' all he could fer ter keep 'im fum it. Brer 
 
 Fox say to hisse'f dat he 'd put up a game on Brer 
 
 20 
 
306 ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN LIFE. 
 
 Rabbit, en he ain't mo'n got de wuds out'n his mouf 
 twel Brer Rabbit come a lopin' up de big road, look- 
 in' des ez plump, en ez fat, en ez sassy ez a Moggin 
 boss in a barley-patch. 
 
 " * Hoi' on dar, Brer Rabbit,' sez Brer Fox, sezee. 
 
 " * I ain't got time. Brer Fox,' sez Brer Rabbit, 
 sezee, sorter mendin' his licks. 
 
 " * I wanter have some confab wid you, Brer Rab- 
 bit,' sez Brer Fox, sezee. 
 
 "" * All right. Brer Fox, but you better holler fum 
 whar you stan'. I 'm monstus full er fleas dis mawn- 
 in',' sez Brer Rabbit, sezee. 
 
 ** ' I seed Brer B'ar yistiddy,* sez Brer Fox, sezee, 
 * en he sorter rake me over de coals kaze you en me 
 ain't make frens en live naberly, en I tole 'ipi dat I 'd 
 see you.' 
 
 **Den Brer Rabbit scratch one year wid his off 
 hine-foot sorter jub'usly, en den he ups en sez, 
 sezee : — 
 
 " * All a settin', Brer Fox. Spose'n you drap roun' 
 ter-morrer en take dinner wid me. We ain't got no 
 great doin's at our house, but I speck de ole 'oman 
 en de chill uns kin sorter scramble roun' en git up 
 sump'n fer ter stay yo' stummuck.' 
 
 " ' I 'm 'gree'ble, Brer Rabbit,' sez Brer Fox, 
 sezee. 
 
 " ' Den I '11 'pen' on you,' sez Brer Rabbit, sezee. 
 
 " Nex' day, Mr. Rabbit an' Miss Rabbit got up 
 soon, 'fo' day, en raided on a gyarden like Miss 
 Sally's out dar, en got some cabbiges, en some roas'n 
 years, en some sparrer-grass, en dey fix up a smash- 
 in' dinner. Bimeby one er de little Rabbits, playin' 
 out in the back-yard, come runnin' in hollerin', ' Oh, 
 ma ! oh, ma ! I seed Mr. Fox a comin' ! ' En den Brer 
 
UNCLE REMUS. 30/ 
 
 Rabbit he tuck de chilluns by der years en make um 
 set down, en den him en Miss Rabbit sorter dally 
 roun' waitin' for Brer Fox. En dey keep on waitin', 
 but no Brer Fox ain't come. Atter 'while Brer Rab- 
 bit goes to de do', easy like, en peep out, en dar, 
 stickin' out fum behime de cornder, wuz de tip-een' 
 er Brer Fox tail. Den Brer Rabbit shot de do' en 
 sot down, en put his paws behime his years en begin' 
 fer ter sing : — 
 
 " ' De place wharbouts you spill de grease, 
 Right dar youer boun' ter slide, 
 An' whar you fine a bunch er ha'r, 
 You '11 sholy fine de hide.' 
 
 " Nex day, Brer Fox sont word by Mr. Mink, en 
 skuze hisse'f kaze he wuz too sick fer ter come, en 
 he ax Brer Rabbit fer ter come en take dinner wid 
 him, en Brer Rabbit say he wuz 'gree'ble. 
 
 ** Bimeby, w'en de shadders wuz at der shortes', 
 Brer Rabbit he sorter brush up en santer down ter 
 Brer Fox's house, en w'en he got dar he yer some- 
 body groanin', en he look in de do', en dar he see 
 Brer Fox settin' up in a rockin' cheer all wrop up 
 wid flannil, en he look mighty weak. Brer Rabbit 
 look all 'roun', he did, but he ain't see no dinner. 
 De dish-pan wuz settin' on de table, en close by wuz 
 a kyarvin' knife. 
 
 " ' Look like you gwineter have chicken fer dinner, 
 Brer Fox,' sez Brer Rabbit, sezee. 
 
 " * Yes, Brer Rabbit, deyer nice, en fresh, en 
 tender,' sez Brer Fox, sezee. 
 
 ** Den Brer Rabbit sorter pull his mustarsh, en 
 say : * You ain't got no calamus root, is you, Brer 
 Fox t I done got so now dat I can't eat no chicken 
 'ceppin she 's seasoned up wid calamus root.' En 
 
308 ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN LIFE. 
 
 wid dat Brer Rabbit lipt out er de do' and dodge 
 'mong de bushes, eii sot dar watchin' fer Brer Fox ; 
 en he ain't watch long, nudder, kaze Brer Fox flung 
 off de flannil en crope out er de house en got whar 
 he could cloze in on Brer Rabbit, en bimeby Brer 
 Rabbit holler out : ' Oh, Brer Fox ! I '11 des put yo' 
 calamus root out yer on dish yer stump. Better 
 come git it while hit 's fresh,' and wid dat Brer Rab- 
 bit gallop off home. En Brer Fox ain't never kotch 
 'im yet, en w'at 's mo', honey, he ain't gwineter." 
 
 II. 
 
 THE WONDERFUL TAR-BABY STORY. 
 
 ** Didn't the fox never catch the rabbit, Uncle 
 Remus ? " asked the little boy the next evening. 
 
 ** He come mighty nigh it, honey, sho 's you bawn 
 — Brer Fox did. One day atter Brer Rabbit fool 
 'im wid dat calamus root, Brer Fox went ter wuk en 
 got 'im some tar, en mix it wid some turkentime, en 
 fix up a contrapshun wat he call a Tar-Baby ; en he 
 tuck dish yer Tar-Baby en he sot 'er in de big road, 
 en den he lay off in de bushes fer ter see wat de 
 news wuz gwineter be. En he did n't hatter wait 
 long, nudder, kaze bimeby here come Brer Rabbit 
 pacin' down de road — lippity-clippity, clippity-lip- 
 pity — dez ez sassy ez a jay -bird. Brer Fox, he lay 
 low. Brer Rabbit come prancin' 'long twel he spy 
 de Tar-Baby; en den he fotch up on his behime legs 
 like he wuz 'stonished, De Tar-Baby, she sot dar, 
 she did, en Brer Fox, he lay low. 
 
 " * Mawnin' ! ' sez Brer Rabbit, sezee — ' nice 
 wedder dis mawnin',' sezee. 
 
UNCLE REMUS. 309 
 
 " Tar-Baby ain't sayin' nuthin', en Brer Fox, he 
 lay low. 
 
 " ' How duz yo' sym'tums seem ter segashuate?' 
 sez Brer Rabbit, sezee. 
 
 " Brer Fox, he wink his eye slow, en lay low, en 
 de Tar-Baby, she ain't sayin' nuthin'. 
 
 " ' How you come on, den t Is you deaf ? ' sez 
 Brer Rabbit, sezee. ' Kase if you is, I kin holler 
 louder,' sezee. 
 
 " Tar-Baby stay still, en Brer Fox, he lay low. 
 
 " ' Youer stuck up, dat 's w'at you is,' says Brer 
 Rabbit, sezee, 'en I 'm gwineter kyore you, dat 's 
 w'at I 'm a gwineter do,' sezee. 
 
 "■ Brer Fox, he sorter chuckle in his stummuck, 
 he did, but Tar-Baby ain't sayin' nuthin'. 
 
 " * I 'm gwineter larn you howter talk ter 'spect- 
 tubble fokes ef hit 's de las' ack,' sez Brer Rabbit, 
 sezee. * Ef you don't take off dat hat en tell me 
 howdy, I 'm gwineter bus' you wide open,' sezee. 
 
 ** Tar-Baby stay still, en Brer Fox, he lay low. 
 
 ** Brer Rabbit keep on axin' 'im, en de Tar-Baby, 
 she keep on sayin' nuthin', twel present'y Brer Rab- 
 bit draw back wid his fis', he did, en blip he tuck 'er 
 side er de head. Right dar 's whar he broke his 
 merlasses jug. His fis' stuck, en he can't pull loose. 
 De tar hilt 'im. But Tar-Baby, she stay still, en 
 Brer Fox, he lay low. 
 
 " * Ef you don't lemme loose, I '11 knock you agin,' 
 sez Brer Rabbit, sezee, en wid dat he fotch 'er a wipe 
 wid de udder han', en dat stuck. Tar-Baby, she ain't 
 sayin' nuthin', en^ Brer Fox, he lay low. 
 
 '' 'Tu'n me loose, fo' I kick de natal stuffin' outen 
 you,' sez Brer Rabbit, sezee, but de Tar-Baby, she 
 ain't sayin' nuthin'. She des hilt on, en den Brer 
 
3IO ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN LIFE. 
 
 Rabbit lose de use er his feet in de same way. Brer 
 Fox, he lay low. Den Brer Rabbit squall out dat ef 
 de Tar-Baby don't tu'n 'im loose he butt 'er crank- 
 sided. En den he butted, en his head got stuck. 
 Den Brer Fox, he sa'ntered fort', lookin' des ez in- 
 nercent ez wunner yo' rrtammy's mockin'-birds. 
 
 " * Howdy, Brer Rabbit,' sez Brer Fox, sezee. 
 * You look sorter stuck up dis mawnin',' sezee, en 
 den he rolled on de groun', en laft en laft twel he 
 could n't laff no mo'. * I speck you '11 take dinner 
 wid me dis time. Brer Rabbit. I done laid in some 
 calamus root, en I ain't gwineter take no skuse,' sez 
 Brer Fox, sezee." 
 
 Here Uncle Remus paused, and drew a two-pound 
 yam out of the ashes. 
 
 " Did the fox eat the rabbit } " asked the little 
 boy to whom the story had been told. 
 
 " Dat 's all de fur de tale goes," replied the old 
 man. '* He mout, en den agin he moutent. Some 
 say Jedge B'ar come 'long en loosed 'im — some say 
 he did n't. I hear Miss Sally callin'. You better run 
 'long." 
 
 III. 
 
 HOW MR. RABBIT WAS TOO SHARP FOR MR. FOX. 
 
 " Uncle Remus," said the little boy one evening, 
 when he had found the old man with little or noth- 
 ing to do, '* did the fox kill and eat the rabbit when 
 he caught him with the Tar-Baby } " 
 
 " Law, honey, ain't I tell you 'bout dat } " replied 
 the old darkey, chuckling slyly. **I 'clar ter grashus 
 I ought 'er tole you dat, but ole man Nod wuz ridin 
 on my eyeleds 'twel a leetle mo'n I 'd a dis'mem- 
 
UNCLE REMUS. 3II 
 
 ber'd my own name, en den on to dat here come yo* 
 mammy hollerin' atter you. 
 
 ** Wat I tell you w'en I fus' begin ? I tole you 
 Brer Rabbit wuz a monstus soon beas' ; leas' ways 
 dat 's w'at I laid out fer ter tell you. Well, den, 
 honey, don't you go en make no udder kalkalashuns, 
 kaze in dem days Brer Rabbit en his fambly wuz at 
 de head er de gang w'en enny racket wuz on han', 
 en dar dey stayed. 'Fo' you begins fer ter wipe yo' 
 eyes 'bout Brer Rabbit, you wait and see whar'bouts 
 Brer Rabbit gwineter fetch up at. But dat's needer 
 yer ner dar. 
 
 " W'en Brer Fox fine Brer Rabbit mixt up wid de 
 Tar-Baby, he feel mighty good, en he roll on de 
 groun' en la£f. Bimeby he up'n say, sezee : — 
 
 *' 'Well, I speck I got you dis time, Brer Rabbit,' 
 sezee : 'maybe I ain't, but I speck I is. You been 
 runnin' roun' here sassin' atter me a mighty long 
 time, but I speck you done come ter de een' er de 
 row. You bin cuttin' up yo' capers en bouncin' 
 'roun' in dis naberhood ontwel you come ter b'leeve 
 yo'se'f de boss er de whole gang. En den youer 
 allers some'rs whar you got no bizness,' sez Brer 
 Fox, sezee. ' Who ax you fer ter come en strike up 
 a 'quaintence wid dish yer Tar-Baby t En who stuck 
 you up dar whar you iz .'' Nobody in de roun' 
 worril. You des tuck en jam yo'se'f on dat Tar- 
 Baby widout waitin' fer enny invite,' sez Brer Fox, 
 sezee, ' en dar you is, en dar you '11 stay twel I fixes 
 up a bresh-pile and fires her up, kaze I 'm gwineter 
 bobbycue you dis day, sho,' sez Brer Fox, sezee. 
 
 "Den Brer Rabbit talk mighty 'umble. 
 
 " ' I don't keer w'at you do wid me. Brer Fox,' 
 sezee, ' so you don't fling me in dat brier-patch. 
 
3 I 2 ODDITJES IN SOUTHERN LIFE. 
 
 Roas' me, Brer Fox,' sezee, * but don't fling me in 
 dat brier-patch,' sezee. 
 
 " ' Hit 's so much trouble fer ter kindle a fier,' sez 
 Brer Fox, sezee, *dat I speck I '11 hatter hang you,' 
 sezee. 
 
 " * Hang me des ez high as you please. Brer Fox,' 
 sez Brer Rabbit, sezee, * but do fer de Lord's sake 
 don't fling me in dat brier-patch,' sezee. 
 
 " ' I ain't got no string,' sez Brer Fox, sezee, * en 
 now I speck I '11 hatter drown you,' sezee. 
 
 '' 'Drown me des ez deep ez you please, Brer Fox,' 
 sez Brer Rabbit, sezee, ' but do don't fling me in dat 
 brier-patch,' sezee. 
 
 " * Dey ain't no water nigh,' sez Brer Fox, sezee, 
 * en now I speck I '11 hatter skin you,' sezee. 
 
 " ' Skin me, Brer Fox,' sez Brer Rabbit, sezee, 
 'snatch out my eyeballs, t'ar out my years by de 
 roots, en cut off my legs,' sezee, ' but do please. 
 Brer Fox, don't fling me in dat brier-patch,' sezee. 
 
 " Co'se Brer Fox wanter hurt Brer Rabbit bad ez 
 he kin, so he cotch 'im by de behime legs en slung 
 'im right in de middle er de brier-patch. Dar wuz 
 a considerbul flutter wdiar Brer Rabbit struck de 
 bushes, en Brer Fox sorter hang 'roun' fer ter see 
 w'at wuz gvvineter happen. Bimeby he hear some- 
 body call 'im, en way up de hill he see Brer Rabbit 
 settin' cross-legged on a chinkapin log koamin' de 
 pitch outen his har wid a chip. Den Brer Fox know 
 dat he bin swop off mighty bad. Brer Rabbit wuz 
 bleedzed fer ter fling back some er his sass, en he 
 holler out : — 
 
 "'Bred en bawn in a brier-patch. Brer Fox — bred 
 en bawn in a brier-patch ! ' en wid dat he skip out 
 des ez lively ez a cricket in de embers." 
 
UNCLE REMUS. 313 
 
 IV. 
 
 MR. RABBIT GROSSLY DECEIVES MR. FOX. 
 
 One evening, when the little boy, whose nights 
 with Uncle Remus are as entertaining as those Ara- 
 bian ones of blessed memory, had finished supper 
 and hurried out to sit with his venerable patron, he 
 found the old man in great glee. Indeed, Uncle 
 Remus was talking and laughing to himself at such 
 a rate that the little boy was afraid he had company. 
 The truth is. Uncle Remus had heard the child com- 
 ing, and, when the rosy-cheeked chap put his head 
 in at the door, was engaged in a monologue, the 
 burden of which seemed to be — 
 
 «' Ole Molly Har', 
 Wat you doin' dar, 
 Settin' in de cornder 
 Smokin' yo' seegyar ? " 
 
 As a matter of course this vague allusion re- 
 minded the little boy of the fact that the wicked 
 Fox was still in pursuit of the Rabbit, and he im- 
 mediately put his curiosity in the shape of a ques- 
 tion. 
 
 " Uncle Remus, did the Rabbit have to go clean 
 away when he got loose from the Tar-Baby .-* " 
 
 " Bless grashus, honey, dat he did n't. Who } 
 Him } You dunno nuthin' 'tall 'bout Brer Rabbit 
 ef dat 's de way you puttin' 'im down. Wat he gwine 
 'way fer } He mouter stayed sorter close twel de 
 pitch rub off 'n his ha'r, but twer n't menny days 
 'fo' he wuz lopin' up en down de naberhood same ez 
 ever, en I dunno ef he wer n't mo' sassier dan befo' 
 
 ''Seem like dat de tale 'bout how he got mixt 
 
314 ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN LIFE. 
 
 up wid de Tar-Baby got 'roun' 'mongst de nabers. 
 Leas' ways, Miss Meadows en de gals got win' un' 
 it, en de nex' time Brer Rabbit paid um a visit Miss 
 Meadows tackled 'im 'bout it, en de gals sot up a 
 monstus gigglement. Brer Rabbit, he sot up des 
 ez cool ez a cowcumber, he did, en let 'em run on." 
 
 " Who was Miss Meadows, Uncle Remus ? " in- 
 quired the little boy. 
 
 " Don't ax me, honey. She wuz in de tale, Miss 
 Meadows en de gals wuz, en de tale I give you like 
 hi't wer' gun ter me. Brer Rabbit, he sot dar, he 
 did, sorter lam' like, en den bimeby he cross his 
 legs, he did, and wink his eye slow, en up en say, 
 sezee : — 
 
 '' ' Ladies, Brer Fox wuz my daddy's ridin'-hoss 
 fer thirty year ; maybe mo', but thirty year dat I 
 knows un,' sezee ; en den he paid um his 'specks, 
 en tip his beaver, en march off, he did, des ez stiff 
 en ez stuck up ez a fire-stick. 
 
 " Nex' day, Brer Fox cum a callin', and w'en he 
 gun fer ter laff 'bout Brer Rabbit, Miss Meadows en 
 de gals, dey ups en tells 'im 'bout w'at Brer Rabbit 
 say. Den Brer Fox grit his toof sho' nuff, he did, en 
 he look mighty dumpy, but w'en he riz fer ter go he 
 up en say, sezee : — 
 
 " 'Ladies, I ain't 'sputin' w'at you say, but I'll 
 make Brer Rabbit chaw up his words en spit um 
 out right yer whar you kin see 'im,' sezee, en wid 
 dat off Brer Fox marcht. 
 
 " En w'en he got in de big road, he shuck de 
 dew off 'n his tail, en made a straight shoot fer Brer 
 Rabbit's house. W'en he got dar. Brer Rabbit wuz 
 spectin' un 'im, en de do' wuz shet fas'. Brer Fox 
 knock. Nobody ain't ans'er. Brer Fox knock. No- 
 
UNCLE REMUS. 315 
 
 body ans'er. Den he knock agin — blam ! blam ! 
 Den Brer Rabbit holler out mighty weak : — 
 
 " ' Is dat you, Brer Fox ? I want you ter run en 
 fetch de doctor. Dat bait er pusly w'at I e't dis 
 mawnin' is gittin' 'way wid me. Do, please. Brer 
 Fox, run quick,' sez Brer Rabbit, sezee. 
 
 " ' I come atter you. Brer Rabbit,' sez Brer Fox, 
 sezee. ' Dere 's gwineter be a party up at Miss 
 Meadows's,' sezee. ' All de gals '11 be dere, en I 
 promus' dat I 'd fetch you. De gals, dey 'lowed dat 
 hit would n't be no party 'ceppin' I fotch you,' sez 
 Brer Fox, sezee. 
 
 " Den Brer Rabbit say he wuz too sick, en Brer 
 Fox say he wuzzent, en dar dey had it up and down, 
 'sputin' en contendin'. Brer Rabbit say he can't 
 walk. Brer Fox say he tote 'im. Brer Rabbit say 
 how } Brer Fox say in his arms. Brer Rabbit say 
 he drap 'im. Brer Fox 'low he won't. Bimeby 
 Brer Rabbit say he go ef Brer Fox tote 'im on his 
 back. Brer Fox say he would. Brer Rabbit say he 
 can't ride widout a saddle. Brer Fox say he git de 
 saddle. Brer Rabbit say he can't set in saddle less 
 he have bridle fer ter hoi' by. Brer Fox say he git 
 de bridle. Brer Rabbit say he can't ride widout 
 bline bridle, kaze Brer Fox be shyin' at stumps 'long 
 de road, en fling 'im off. Brer Fox say he git bline 
 bridle. Den Brer Rabbit say he go. Den Brer Fox 
 say he ride Brer Rabbit mos' up ter Miss Meadows's, 
 en den he could git down en walk de balance er de 
 way. Brer Rabbit 'greed, en den Brer Fox lipt out 
 atter de saddle en de bridle. 
 
 " Co'se Brer Rabbit know de game dat Brer Fox 
 wuz fixin' fer ter play, en he 'termin' fer ter outdo 
 'im, en by de time he koam his ha'r en twis' his 
 
3l6 ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN LIFE. 
 
 mustarsh, en sorter rig up, yer come Brer Fox, 
 saddle en bridle on, en lookin' ez peart ez a circus 
 pony. He trot up ter de do' en stan' dar pawin' de 
 ground en chompin' de bit same like sho 'nuff boss, 
 en Brer Rabbit he mount, he did, en dey amble off. 
 Brer Fox can't see behime wid de bline bridle on, but 
 bimeby he feel Brer Rabbit raise one er his foots. - 
 
 " * Wat you doin' now. Brer Rabbit ? ' sezee. 
 
 " ' Short'nin' de lef stir'p. Brer Fox,' sezee. 
 
 " Bimeby Brer Rabbit raise up the udder foot. 
 
 " * Wat you doin' now. Brer Rabbit t ' sezee. 
 
 "'Pullin' down my pants, Brer Fox,' sezee. 
 
 *'A11 de time, bless grashus, honey. Brer Rabbit 
 wer puttin' on his spurrers, en w'en dey got close to 
 Miss Meadows's whar Brer Rabbit wuz to git off, en 
 Brer Fox made a motion fer ter stan' still. Brer Rab- 
 bit slap de spurrers into Brer Fox flanks, en you 
 better b'leeve he got over groun'. W'en dey got 
 ter de house, Miss Meadows en all de gals wuz 
 settin' on de peazzer, en stidder stoppin' at de gate, 
 Brer Rabbit rid on by, he did, en den come gallopin' 
 down de road en up ter de hoss-rack, w'ich he hitch 
 Brer Fox at, en den he santer inter de house, he did, 
 en shake ban's wid de gals, en set dar, smokin' his 
 seegyar same ez a town man. Bimeby he draw in 
 long puff, en den let hit out in a cloud, en squar 
 hisse'f back en holler out, he did : — 
 
 *' * Ladies, ain't I done tell you Brer Fox wuz de 
 ridin'-hoss fer our fambly .-* He sorter losin' his gait' 
 now, but I speck I kin fetch 'im all right in a mont' 
 er so,' sezee. 
 
 " En den Brer Rabbit sorter grin, he did, en de 
 gals giggle, en Miss Meadows, she praise up de 
 pony, en dar wuz Brer Fox hitch fas' ter de rack, en 
 could n't he'p hisse'f." 
 
UNCLE REMUS. 317 
 
 " Is that all, Uncle Remus ?" asked the little boy 
 as the old man paused. 
 
 *'Dat ain't all, honey, but 't won't do fer ter give 
 out too much cloff fer ter cut one pa'r pants," re- 
 plied the old man sententiously. 
 
 V. 
 
 MR. FOX IS AGAIN VICTIMIZED. 
 
 When *'Miss Sally's" little boy went to Uncle 
 Remus the next night to hear the conclusion of the 
 adventure in which the Rabbit made a riding-horse 
 of the Fox, to the great enjoyment and gratification 
 of Miss Meadows and the girls, he found the old 
 man in a bad humor. 
 
 " I ain't tellin' no tales ter bad chilluns," said 
 Uncle Remus, curtly. 
 
 " But, Uncle Remus, I ain't bad," said the little 
 boy, plaintively. 
 
 " Who dat chunkin' dem chickens dis mawnin' } 
 Who dat knockin' out fokes's eyes wid dat Yaller- 
 bammer sling des 'fo' dinner } Who dat sickin' dat 
 pinter puppy atter my pig 1 Who dat scatterin' my 
 ingun sets } Who dat flingin' rocks on top er my 
 house, w'ich a little mo' en one un en would er drap 
 spang on my head t " 
 
 "■ Well, now. Uncle Remus, I did n't go to do it. 
 I won't do so any more. Please, Uncle Remus, if 
 you will tell me, I '11 run to the house and bring you 
 some tea-cakes." 
 
 " Seein' um's better 'n hearin' tell un urn," replied 
 the old man, the severity of his countenance relax- 
 ing somewhat ; but the little boy darted out, and in 
 
3l8 ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN LIFE. 
 
 a few minutes came running back with his pockets 
 full and his hands full. 
 
 '* I lay yo' mammy '11 'spishun dat de rats' stum- 
 mucks is widenin' in dis naberhood w'en she come 
 fer ter Count up 'er cakes," said Uncle Remus, with 
 a chuckle. " Deze," he continued, dividing the 
 cakes into two equal parts, ** deze I '11 tackle now, 
 en deze I '11 lay by fer Sunday. 
 
 " Lemme see. I mos' dis'member wharbouts Brer 
 Fox en Brer Rabbit wuz." 
 
 " The rabbit rode the fox to Miss Meadows's, and 
 hitched him to the horse-rack," said the little boy. 
 
 ** W'y, co'se he did," said Uncle Remus. " Co'se 
 he did. Well, Brer Rabbit rid Brer Fox up, he did, 
 en tied 'im to de rack, en den sot out in de peazzer 
 wid de gals a smokin' er his seegyar wid mo' proud- 
 ness dan wa't you mos' ever see. Dey talk, en dey 
 sing, en dey play on de peanner, de gals did, twel 
 bimeby hit come time fer Brer Rabbit fer to be 
 gwine, en he tell um all good-by, en strut out to de 
 hoss-rack same 's ef he wuz de king er de patter- 
 rollers,^ en den he mount Brer Fox en ride off. 
 
 " Brer Fox ain't sayin' nuthin' 'tall. He des rack 
 off, he did, en keep his mouf shet, en Brer Rabbit 
 know'd der wuz bizness cookin' up fer him, en he 
 feel monstus skittish. Brer Fox amble on twel he 
 git in de long lane, outer sight er Miss Meadows's 
 house, en den he tu'n loose, he did. He rip en he 
 r'ar, en he cuss en he swar ; he snort en he cavort." 
 
 1 Patrols. In the country districts, order was kept on the planta- 
 tions at night by the knowledge that they were liable to be visited at 
 any moment by the patrols. Hence a song current among the ne- 
 groes, the chorus of which was, — 
 
 " Run, nigger, run; patter-roller ketch you, — 
 Run, nigger, run ; hit's almos' day." 
 
UNCLE REMUS. 319 
 
 "What was he doing that for, Uncle Remus?" 
 the little boy inquired. 
 
 " He wuz tryin' fer ter fling Brer Rabbit off'n his 
 back, bless yo' soul ! But he des might ez well er 
 rastle wid his own shadder. Every time he hump his- 
 se'f Brer Rabbit slap de spurrers in 'im, en dar dey 
 had it, up en down. Brer Fox fa'rly to' up de groun', 
 he did, en he jump so high en he jump so quick dat 
 he mighty nigh snatch his own tail off. Dey kep' 
 on gwine on dis way twel bimeby Brer Fox lay down 
 en roll over, he did, en dis sorter onsettle Brer Rab- 
 bit, but by de time Brer Fox got back on his footses 
 agin, Brer Rabbit wuz gwine thoo de underbresh mo' 
 samer dan a race-hoss. Brer Fox he lit out atter 
 'im, he did, en he push Brer Rabbit so close dat it 
 wuz 'bout all he could do fer ter git in a holler tree. 
 Hole too little fer Brer Fox fer ter git in, en he hat- 
 ter lay down en res' en gedder his mine tergedder. 
 
 " While he wuz layin' dar, Mr. Buzzard come 
 floppin' long, en seein' Brer Fox stretch out on de 
 groun', he lit en view de premuses. Den Mr. Buz- 
 zard sorter shake his wing, en put his head on one 
 side, en say to hisse'f like, sezee : — 
 
 " ' Brer Fox dead, en I so sorry,' sezee. 
 
 " * No, I ain't dead, nudder,' sez Brer Fox, sezee. 
 * I got ole man Rabbit pent up in yer,' sezee, * en 
 I 'm a gwineter git 'im dis time, ef it take twel Chris'- 
 mus,' sezee. 
 
 " Den, atter some mo' palaver. Brer Fox make a 
 bargain dat Mr. Buzzard wuz ter watch de hole, en 
 keep Brer Rabbit dar wiles Brer Fox went atter his 
 axe. Den Brer Fox, he lope off, he did, en Mr. Buz- 
 zard, he tuck up his stan' at de hole. Bimeby, w'en 
 all git still, Brer Rabbit sorter scramble down close 
 ter de hole, he did, en holler out : — 
 
320 ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN LIFE. 
 
 " ' Brer Fox ! Oh ! Brer Fox ! ' 
 
 " Brer Fox done gone, en nobody say nuthin*. 
 Den Brer Rabbit squall out like he wuz mad ; se- 
 zee : — 
 
 '* * You needn't talk less you wanter,' sezee ; *I 
 knows youer dar, en I ain't keerin',' sezee. * I des 
 wanter tell you dat I wish mighty bad Brer Tukkey 
 Buzzard wuz here,' sezee. 
 
 " Den Mr. Buzzard try ter talk like Brer Fox : — 
 
 " * Wat you want wid Mr. Buzzard } ' sezee. 
 
 " * Oh, nuthin' in 'tickler, 'cep' dere 's de fattes' 
 gray squir'l in yer dat ever I see,' sezee, * en ef Brer 
 Tukkey Buzzard wuz 'roun' he 'd be mighty glad fer 
 ter git 'im,' sezee. 
 
 " * How Mr. Buzzard gwine ter git 'im } * sez de 
 Buzzard, sezee. 
 
 " ' Well, dars a little hole roun' on de udder side 
 er de tree,' sez Brer Rabbit, sezee, ' en ef Brer Tuk- 
 key Buzzard wuz here so he could take up his stan* 
 dar,' sezee, * I 'd drive dat squir'l out,' sezee. 
 
 " 'Drive 'im out, den,' sez Mr. Buzzard, sezee, 'en 
 I '11 see dat Brer Tukkey Buzzard gits 'im,' sezee. 
 
 " Den Brer Rabbit kick up a racket, like he wer' 
 drivin' sumpin' out, en Mr. Buzzard he rush 'roun' 
 fer ter ketch de squir'l, en Brer Rabbit, he dash out, 
 he did, en he des fly fer home." 
 
 At this point Uncle Remus took one of the tea- 
 cakes, held his head back, opened his mouth, 
 dropped the cake in with a sudden motion, looked 
 at the little boy with an expression of astonishment, 
 and then closed his eyes, and begun to chew, mum- 
 bling as an accompaniment the plaintive tune of 
 "Don't you Grieve atter Me." 
 
 The seance was over ; but, before the little boy 
 
uncle: REMUS. 321 
 
 went into the " big house," Uncle Remus laid his 
 rough hand tenderly on the child's shoulder, and re- 
 marked in a confidential tone : — 
 
 *' Honey, you mus' git up soon Chris'mus mawnin' 
 en open de do' ; kase I 'm gwineter bounce in on 
 Marse John en Miss Sally, en holler Chris'mus gif 
 des like I useter endurin' de fahmin' days fo' de war, 
 w'en ole Miss wuz 'live. I boun' dey don't fergit 
 de ole nigger, nudder. W'en you hear me callin' de 
 pigs, honey, you des hop up en onfassen de do'. I 
 lay I '11 give Marse John wunner deze yer 'sprize par- 
 ties." 
 
 VI. 
 
 SONGS OF "UNCLE REMUS." 
 
 REVIVAL HYMN. 
 
 Oh, whar shill we go w'en de great day comes, 
 
 Wid de blowin' er de trumpits en de bangin' er de drums ? 
 
 How many po' sinners '11 be kotched out late 
 
 En fine no latch ter de golden gate ? 
 
 No use fer ter wait twel ter-morrer ! 
 
 De sun mus n't set on yo' sorrer, 
 
 Sin 's ez sharp ez a bamboo-brier — 
 
 Oh, Lord ! fetch de mo'ners up higher ! 
 
 W'en de nashuns er de earf is a stan'in all aroun', 
 Who 's a gwineter be choosen fer ter w'ar de glory- 
 crown ? 
 Who 's a gwine fer ter stan' stiff-kneed en bol', 
 En answer to der name at de callin' er de roll ? 
 You better come now ef you comiri' — 
 Ole Satun is loose en a bummin' — 
 De wheels er distruckshun is a hummin' — 
 Oh, come 'long, sinner, ef you comin' 1 
 21 
 
322 ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN LIFE. 
 
 De song er salvashun is a mighty sweet song, 
 
 En de Pairidise win' blow fur en blow strong, 
 
 En Aberham's bosom, hit 's saft en hit 's wide, 
 
 En right dar 's de place whar de sinners oughter hide ! 
 
 Oh, you nee'nter be a stoppin' en a lookin' ; 
 
 Ef you fool wid ole Satun you '11 git took in ; 
 
 You '11 hang on de aidge en get shook in, 
 
 Ef you keep on a stoppin' en a lookin'. 
 
 De time is right now, en dish yer 's de place — 
 Let de sun er salvashun shine squar' m yo' face j 
 Fight de battles er de Lord, fight soon en fight late, 
 En you '11 allers fine a latch ter de golden gate. 
 
 No use fer ter wait twel ter-morrer, 
 
 De sun mus n't set on yo' sorrer — 
 
 Sin 's ez sharp ez a bamboo-brier, 
 
 Ax de Lord fer ter fetch you up higher ! 
 
 CAMP-MEETING SONG.^ 
 
 Oh, de worril is roun' en de worril is wide — 
 
 Lord ! 'member deze chillun in de mornin' — 
 Hit 's a mighty long ways up de mountain side. 
 En dey ain't no place for dem sinners fer ter hide, 
 En dey ain't no place whar sin kin abide. 
 Wen de Lord shill come in de mornin' ! 
 Look up en look aroun', 
 Fling yo' burden on de groun'. 
 Hit 's a gittin' mighty close on ter mornin* ! 
 Smoove away sin's frown — 
 Retch up en git de crown, 
 Wat de Lord will fetch in de mornin* ! 
 
 1 In the days of slavery, the religious services held by the negroes 
 »vho accompanied their owners to the camp-meetings were marvels of 
 earnestness and devotion. 
 
UNCLE REMUS. 323 
 
 De han' er ridem'shun, hit 's hilt out ter you — 
 
 Lord ! 'member dem sinners in de mornin' ! 
 Hit 's a mighty pashent han', but de days is but few. 
 Wen Satun, he '11 come a demandin' un his due, 
 En de stiff-neck sinners '11 be smotin' all fru — 
 Oh, you better git ready fer de mornin' ! 
 Look up en set yo' face 
 Todes de green hills er grace 
 *Fo' de sun rises up in de mornin' — 
 Oh, you better change yo' base, 
 Hit 's yo' soul's las' race 
 Fer de glory dat 's comin' in de mornin' ! 
 
 De farmer gits ready w'en de Ian 's all plowed 
 
 Fer ter sow dem seeds in de mornin' — 
 De sperrit may be puny en de flesh may be proud, 
 But you better cut loose fum de scoffin' crowd, 
 En jine dese Christuns w'at 's a cryin' out loud 
 Fer de Lord fer ter come in de mornin' ! 
 Shout loud en shout long, 
 Let de ekkoes ans'er strong, 
 W'en de sun rises up in de mornin' ! 
 Oh, you allers will be wrong 
 Twel you choose ter belong 
 Ter de Marster w'at 's a comin' in de mornin* ! 
 
 CORN-SHUCKING SONG. 
 
 Oh, de fus news you know de day '11 be a breakin' — 
 (Hey O ! Hi O ! Up'n down de Bango !) ^ 
 
 An' de fier be a burhin' en' de ash-cake a bakin', 
 (Hey O ! Hi O ! Up'n down de Bango !) 
 
 An' de hen '11 be a hollerin' en de boss '11 be a wakin' — 
 (Hey O ! Hi O ! Up'n down de Bango !) 
 
 1 So far as I know, " Bango " is a meaningless term, introduced on 
 account of its sonorous ruggedness. 
 
324 ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN LIFE. 
 
 Better git up, nigger, en give yo'se'f a shakin' — 
 (Hi O, Miss Sindy Ann !) 
 
 Oh, honey ! w'en you see dem ripe stars a fallin' — 
 
 (Hey O ! Hi O ! Up'n down de Bango !) 
 Oh, honey ! w'en you year de rain-crow a callin' — 
 
 (Hey O ! Hi O ! Up'n down de Bango !) 
 Oh, honey ! w'en you year dat red calf a bawlin' — 
 
 (Hey O ! Hi O ! Up'n down de Bango !) 
 Den de day time 's comin', a creepin' en a crawlin' — 
 
 (Hi O, Miss Sindy Ann !) 
 
 Fer de los' ell en yard -^ is a huntin' fer de mornin', 
 
 (Hi O ! git 'long ! go way !) 
 En she '11 ketch up widdus 'fo' we ever git dis corn 
 in — 
 
 (Oh, go 'way, Sindy Ann !) 
 
 Oh, honey ! w'en you year dat tin-horn a tootin' — 
 
 (Hey O ! Hi O ! Up'n down de Bango !) 
 Oh, honey, w'en you year de squinch-owl a hootin' — 
 
 (Hey O ! Hi O ! Up'n down de Bango !) 
 Oh, honey ! w'en you year dem little pigs a rootin' — 
 
 (Hey O ! Hi O ! Up'n down de Bango !) 
 Right den she 's a comin' a skippin' en a scootin' — 
 
 (Hi O, Miss Sindy Ann !) 
 
 Oh, honey, w'en you year dat roan mule whicker — 
 
 (Hey O ! Hi O ! Up'n down de Bango !) 
 W'en you see Mister Moon turnin' pale en gittin' sicker — ■ 
 
 (Hey O ! Hi O ! Up'n down de Bango !) 
 Den hit's time fer ter handle dat corn a little quicker — 
 
 (Hey O ! Hi O ! Up'n down de Bango !) 
 Ef you wanter git a smell er old Marster's jug er licker- 
 
 (Hi O, Miss Sindy Ann !) 
 
 1 The sword and belt in the constellation of Orion. 
 
UNCLE REMUS. 325 
 
 Fer de los' ell en yard is a huntin' fer de mornin', 
 
 (Hi O ! git 'long ! go 'way !) 
 En she '11 ketch up widdus 'fo' we ever git dis corn in — 
 
 (Oh, go 'way, Sindy Ann !) 
 
 You niggers 'cross dar ! you better stop your dancin' — 
 
 (Hey O ! Hi O ! Up'n down de Bango !) 
 No use fer ter come a flingin' un yo' " sha'n'ts " in — 
 
 (Hey O ! Hi O ! Up'n down de Bango !) 
 No use fer ter come a flingin' un yo' " can'ts " in — 
 
 (Hey 1 Hi O ! Up'n down de Bango !) 
 Kaze dey ain't no time fer yo' pattin' ner yo' prancin' I 
 
 (Hi O, Miss Sindy Ann I) 
 
 Mr. Rabbit see de Fox, en he sass um en jaws um — 
 
 (Hey O ! Hi O ! Up'n down de Bango !) 
 Mr. Fox ketch de Rabbit, en he scratch um en he claws 
 um — 
 
 (Hey O ! Hi O ! Up'n down de Bango !) 
 En he tar off de hide, en he chaws um en he gnyaws um^ 
 
 (Hey O ! Hi O ! Up'n down de Bango !) 
 Same like gal chawin' sweet gum en rozzum — 
 
 (Hi O, Miss Sindy Ann !) 
 
 Fer de los' ell en yard is a huntin' fer de mornin', 
 
 (Hi O ! git 'long ! go 'way !) 
 En she '11 ketch up widdus 'fo' we ever git dis corn in — 
 
 (Oh, go 'way, Sindy Ann !) 
 
 Oh, work on, boys ! give deze shucks a mighty wringin' — 
 
 (Hey O ! Hi O ! Up'n down de Bango !) 
 'Fo' de boss come aroun' a dangin' en a dingin' — 
 
 (Hey O ! Hi O ! Up'n down de Bango !) 
 Git up en move aroun' ! set dem big ban's ter swingin' — 
 
 (Hey O ! Hi O ! Up'n down de Bango !) 
 Git up'n shout loud 1 let de w'ite folks year you singin' ! 
 
 (Hi O, Miss Sindy Ann !) 
 
326 ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN' LIFE. 
 
 Fer de los' ell en yard is a huntin' fer de mornin' 
 
 (Hi O ! git 'long ! go 'way !) 
 En she '11 ketch up widdus 'fo' we ever git dis corn in 
 
 (Oh, go 'way, Sindy Ann !) 
 
 THE PLOUGH-HANDS* SONG. 
 
 Nigger mighty happy w'en he layin' by co'n — 
 
 Dat sun 's a slantin' ; 
 Nigger mighty happy w'en he year he dinner-h'on — 
 
 Dat sun 's a slantin' ; 
 En he mo' happy still w'en de night draws on — 
 
 Dat sun 's a slantin' ; 
 Dat sun 's a slantin' des ez sho 's you bo'n ! 
 
 En it 's rise up, Primus ! fetch anudder yell : 
 Dat ole dun cow 's des a shakin' up 'er bell. 
 En de frogs chunin' up 'fo' de jew done fell : 
 Good-night., Mr. Killdee ! J wish you ?nighiy well I 
 
 — Mr. Killdee ! I wish you mighty well ! 
 
 — I wish you mighty well I 
 
 De co'n '11 be ready 'g'inst dumplin' day — 
 
 Dat sun 's a slantin' ; 
 But nigger gotter watch, en stick, en stay — 
 
 Dat sun 's a slantin' ; 
 Same ez de bee-martin watchin' un de jay — 
 
 Dat sun 's a slantin' ; 
 Dat sun 's a slantin' en a slippin' away ! 
 
 Den it 's rise up, Primus ! en gin it t'um strong : 
 De cow 's gwine home wid der ding-dang-dong — « 
 Sling in anudder tetch er de ole-time song : 
 Good-night, Mr. Whipperwill ! doJi' t stay long ! 
 
 — Mr. Whipperivill ! don^t stay long ! 
 
 — Dofi'i stay long/ 
 
UNCLE REMUS. _ 32; 
 
 CHRISTMAS PLAY-SONG. 
 
 Hi my rinktum ! Black gal sweet, 
 
 Same like goodies w'at de w'ite folks eat ; 
 
 Ho my Riley ! don't you take 'n tell 'er name, 
 
 En den ef sumpin' happen you won't ketch de blame i 
 
 Hi my rinktum ! better take 'n hide yo' plum j 
 
 Joree don't holler eve'y time he fine a wum. 
 
 Den it 's hi my rinktum ! 
 Don't git no udder man ; 
 
 En it 's ho my Riley 1 
 
 Fetch out Miss Dilsey Ann ! 
 
 Ho my Riley ! Yaller gal fine ; 
 
 She may be yone but she oughter be mine ! 
 
 Hi my rinktum ! Lemme git by, 
 
 En see w'at she mean by de cut er dat eye 1 
 
 Ho my Riley ! better shet dat do' — 
 
 De w'ite folks '11 b'leeve we er t'arin up de flo*. 
 
 Den it 's ho my Riley ! 
 Come a siftin' up ter me ! 
 
 En it 's hi my rinktum ! 
 
 Dis de way ter twis' yo' knee ! 
 
 Hi my rinktum ! Ain't de eas' gittin' red ? 
 
 De squinch owl shiver like he wanter go ter bed | 
 
 Ho my Riley ! but de gals en de boys, 
 
 Des now gittin' so dey kin sorter make a noise. 
 
 Hi my rinktum ! let de yaller gal 'lone ; 
 
 Niggers don't hanker arter sody in de pone. 
 
 Den it 's hi mv rinktum ! 
 Better try anudder plan ; 
 
 An' it 's ho my Riley ! 
 
 Trot out Miss Dilsey Ann ! 
 
328 ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN LIFE. 
 
 Ho my Riley ! In de happy Chrismus' time 
 
 De niggers shake der cloze a huntin' fer a dime 
 
 Hi my rinktum ! En den dey shake der feet, 
 
 En greaze derse'f wid de good ham meat. 
 
 Ho my Riley ! dey eat en dey cram, 
 
 En bim^by ole Miss '11 be a sendin' out de dram. 
 
 Den it 's ho my Riley ! 
 You hear dat, Sam ! 
 
 En it 's hi my rinktum ! 
 Be a sendin' out de dram ! 
 
 11 
 
DUKESBOROUGH TALES. 
 
 Why it is I know not, but certain it is that Georgia, which is made 
 the scene of so much of the humor of the South, has furnished a very 
 large proportion of the humorists themselves. The author of " Uukes- 
 borough Tales " is a native Georgian, and, although he is but just 
 coming into the general notice of the public, that original volume 
 made its appearance nearly ten years ago. It deserved prompter 
 and more cordial recognition. The sketches of which it is com- 
 posed are redolent of the rusticity of the South. They breathe the 
 very life of the village, and present us a series of characters both new 
 and naive, but whimsically true to the quaint, simple, serio-comic ex- 
 istence, that, like a country stream, ran through Dixieland during the 
 years preceding the great war, \Yhich, a mere episode in the one sec- 
 tion of the Union, was a " deluge " to the other section. 
 
 Richard M. Johnston, the author of these " tales," was in the old 
 time Professor of Belles Lettres in the University of Georgia. It does 
 not appear, however, that in those days he applied his brilliantly de- 
 scriptive talents to more than a passing anecdote. He is described 
 by a recent writer in a Georgia newspaper as a great social favorite. 
 " Dick Johnston, as he was called," says this writer, " a familiarly 
 welcomed comer in every household in middle Georgia, not only 
 drilled them in classic lore, but taught them manners, — that is, how 
 to behave at home and abroad, how to be mindful of the feelings and 
 charitable of the frailties of others, — and polished them off with the 
 polite arts of the drawing-room, and the important lesson of knowing 
 how to preside at the head of a table and carve a turkey without scat- 
 tering the joints on the floor and splashing the dressing upon the 
 clothes of the guests." And, pursuing the same strain, he gives the 
 following somewhat meagre particulars : — 
 
 " In the better days before the great trouble came upon Southern 
 society, Dick Johnston was the favored guest at all dinner parties, and 
 the central figure about which gathered lawyers, jurors, litigants, and 
 visitors at the country taverns, when the labors of the former were 
 over for the day, and the night was given to social converse and 
 
330 ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN LIFE, 
 
 story-telling. In the ridings of two of the judicial circuits of Georgia 
 there was not such a raconteur to be found ; and this is saying much, 
 when it is remembered that in the days of which we write the bench 
 and bar of the State were noted for men of great culture and intel- 
 lectuality, who flavored the dry readings of the law with plentiful 
 pinches of Attic salt. The young barrister, with his sheepskin and 
 saddle-bags, looking for courts and clients during a tour of the circuit, 
 was made to feel by the presence and example of the men with whom 
 he was thrown that though the way to fortune and eminence was 
 rugged and far, in the nightly symposiums of wit and humor, the 
 toils, the struggles and disappointments of the day might be drowned. 
 The necessity which swept away the old homesteads, the landmarks 
 of a noble race, the struggles for existence which scattered many 
 happy households, carried ' Dick Johnston ' to Maryland. Georgia 
 had no reason to be ashamed of her contribution, and Maryland 
 gained not only an honored citizen, but an ornament to her already 
 cultivated society. Near Baltimore he fixed his home, and has de- 
 voted himself with quiet success to the cultivation and education of 
 youth, varied by an occasional tour abroad for recreation and health. 
 Always easy, open, and affable, there is nothing about the man to 
 denote the student and worker beyond a slight stoop of the shoulders. 
 Yet his life has been a busy one. In addition to the daily duties of 
 his classes, he has found time to prepare and deliver a series of lect- 
 ures upon the ancient and modern classics, and upon several themes 
 of art and poetry." 
 
 I. 
 
 HOW MR. BILL WILLIAMS TOOK THE RESPONSIBILITY. 
 
 ** Our honor teacheth us 
 That we be bold in every enterprise." 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 When Josiah Lorriby came into our neighborhood 
 to keep a school I was too young to go to it alone. 
 Having no older brother or sister to go along with 
 me, my parents, although they were desirous for me 
 to begin, were about to give it up, when fortunately 
 it was ascertained that William Williams, a big fel- 
 low, whose widowed mother resided near to us, in- 
 
DUKESBOROUGH TALES. 33 1 
 
 tended to go for one term and complete his educa- 
 tion preparatory to being better fitted for an object 
 of vast ambition which he had in view. His way 
 lay by our door, and as he was one of the most ac- 
 commodating persons in the world he proffered to 
 take charge of me. Without hesitation and with 
 much gratitude this was accepted, and I was de- 
 livered over into his keeping. 
 
 William Williams was so near being a man that 
 the little boys used to call him Mr. Bill. I never 
 can forget the stout homespun dress-coat which he 
 used to wear, with the big pockets opening horizon- 
 tally across the outer side of the skirts. Many a 
 time, when I was fatigued by walking or the road 
 was wet with rains, have I ridden upon his back, 
 my hands resting upon his shoulders and my feet 
 standing in those capacious pockets. Persons who 
 have never tried that way of traveling have no just 
 idea, I will venture to say, how sweet it is. Mr. 
 Bill had promised to take care of me, and he kept 
 his word. 
 
 On the first morning when the school was opened, 
 we went together to it. About one mile and a half 
 distant stood the school-house. Eighteen by twenty 
 feet were its dimensions. It was built of logs and 
 covered with clapboards. It had one dcor, and op- 
 posite to that a hole in the wall two feet square, 
 which was called the window. It stood in the corner 
 of one of our fields (having formerly been used as a 
 fodder-house), and on the brow of a hill, at the foot 
 of which, overshadowed by oak-trees, was a noble 
 spring of fresh water. Our way led us by this 
 spring. Just as we reached it, Mr. Bill pointed to 
 the summit and said:-— 
 
332 ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN LIFE. 
 
 "Yonder it is, Squire." ^ 
 
 Mr. 13111 frequently called me Squire, partly from 
 mere facetiousness, and partly from his respect for 
 my father, who was a Justice of the Peace. 
 
 I did not answer. We ascended the hill, and Mr. 
 Bill led me into the presence of the genius of the 
 place. 
 
 Mr. Josiah Lorriby was a remarkable man, at least 
 in appearance. He was below the middle height, but 
 squarely built. His body was good enough, but his 
 other parts were defective. He had a low flat head, 
 with very short hair and very long ears. His arms 
 were reasonably long, but his hands and legs were 
 disproportionately short. Many tales were told of 
 his feet, on which he wore shoes with iron soles. 
 He was sitting on a split-bottom chair, on one side 
 of the fire-place. Under him, with his head peering 
 out between the rounds, sitting on his hind legs and 
 standing on his fore legs, was a small yellow dog, 
 without tail or ears. This dog's name was Rum. 
 On the side of the hearth, in another split-bottom, 
 sat a tall raw-boned woman, with the reddest eyes 
 that I have ever seen. This was Mrs. Mehitable, 
 Mr. Lorriby's wife. She had ridden to the school 
 on a small aged mare, perfectly white and totally 
 blind. Her name was Kate. 
 
 When I had surveyed these four personages, — 
 this satyr of a man, this tailless dog, this red-eyed 
 woman, and this blind old mare, — a sense of fear and 
 helplessness came over me, such as I had never felt 
 before, and have never felt since. I looked at Mr. 
 Bill Williams, but he was observing somebody else, 
 and did not notice me. The other pupils, eighteen 
 or twenty in number, seemed to be in deep medita- 
 
DUKESBOROUGH TALES. 333 
 
 tion. My eyes passed from one to another of the 
 objects of my dread ; but they became finally fast- 
 ened upon the dog. His eyes also had wandered, but 
 only with vague curiosity, around upon all the pupils, 
 until they became fixed upon me. We gazed at each 
 other several moments. Though he sat still, and I 
 sat still, it seemed to me that we were drawing con- 
 tinually nearer to each other. Suddenly I lifted up 
 my voice and screamed with all my might. It was 
 so sudden and sharp that everybody except the 
 woman jumped. She indifferently pointed to the 
 dog. Her husband arose, came to me, and in sooth- 
 ing tones asked what was the matter. 
 
 '' I am scared ! " I answered, as loud as I could 
 speak. 
 
 '' Scared of what, my little man 1 Of the dog t " 
 
 *' I am scared of all of you ! " 
 
 He laughed with good humor, bade me not be 
 afraid, called up Rum, talked to us both, enjoined 
 upon us to be friends, and prophesied that we would 
 be such, — the best that had ever been in the world. 
 The little creature became cordial at once, reared 
 his fore feet upon his master, took them down, 
 reared them upon me, and in the absence of a tail 
 to wag twisted his whole hinder-parts in most vio- 
 lent assurance that if I should say the word we were 
 friends already. Such kindness, and so unexpected, 
 dissolved my apprehensions. I was in a condition 
 to accept terms far less liberal. So I acceded, and 
 went to laughing outright. Everybody laughed, and 
 Rum, who could do nothing better in that line, ran 
 about and barked as joyously as any clog with a tail 
 could have done. In the afternoon, when school was 
 dismissed, I invited Rum to go home with me ; but 
 
334 ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN LIFE. 
 
 he, waiting as I supposed for a more intimate ac- 
 quaintance, declined. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 It was delightful to consider how auspicious a be- 
 ginning I had made. Other little boys profited by 
 it. Mr. Lorriby had no desire to lose any of his 
 scholars, and we all were disposed to take as much 
 advantage as possible of his apprehension, however 
 unfounded, that on account of our excessive timidity 
 our parents might remove us from the school. Be- 
 sides, we knew that we were to lose nothing by being 
 on friendly terms with Rum. The dread of the 
 teacher's wife soon passed away. She had but little 
 to say, and less to do. Nobody had any notion of 
 any reason which she had for coming to the school. 
 At first she occasionally heard a spelling-class recite. 
 After a little time she began to come much less 
 often, and in a few weeks her visits had decreased to 
 one in several days. Mrs. Lorriby seemed a very 
 proud woman ; for she not only had little to say to 
 anybody, but, although she resided only a mile and 
 a half from the school-house, she never walked, but 
 invariably rode old Kate. These were small things, 
 yet we noticed them. 
 
 Mr. Lorriby was not of the sort of school-masters 
 whom men used to denominate by the title of knock- 
 down and dras: out. He was not such a man as Is- 
 rael Meadows. But although he was good-hearted 
 enough, he was somewhat politic also. Being a new- 
 comer, and being poor, he determined to manage his 
 business with due regard to the tastes, the wishes, 
 and the prejudices of the community in which he 
 
DUKESBOROUGH TALES. ^ 335 
 
 labored. He decidedly preferred a mild reign ; but 
 it was said he could easily accommodate himself to 
 those who required a more vigorous policy. He soon 
 learned that the latter was the favorite here. Peo- 
 ple complained that there was little or no whipping. 
 Some who had read the fable of the frogs who de- 
 sired a sovereign were heard to declare that Josiah 
 Lorriby was no better than " Old King Log." One 
 patron spoke of taking his children home, placing 
 the boy at the plow, and the girl at the spinning- 
 wheel. 
 
 Persons in those days loved their children, doubt- 
 less, as well as now ; but they had some strange 
 ways of showing their love. The strangest of all 
 was the evident gratification which the former felt 
 when the latter were whipped at school. While they 
 all had a notion that education was something which 
 it was desirable to get, it was believed that the im- 
 partation of it needed to be conducted in most mys- 
 terious ways. The school-house of that day was, in 
 a manner, a cave of Trophonius, into which urchins 
 of both sexes entered amid certain incomprehen- 
 sible ceremonies, and w^ere everlastingly subject, 
 and used to be whirled about, body and soul, in a 
 vortex of confusion. I mis^ht pursue the analogy, 
 and say that, like the votaries of Trophonius, they 
 were not wont to smile until long after this violent 
 and rotatory indoctrination ; but rather to weep and 
 lament, unless they were brave like Apollonius, or 
 big like Allen Thigpen, and so could bully the priest 
 far enough to have the bodily rotation dispensed 
 with. According to these notions, the principles of 
 the education of books were not to be addressed to 
 the mind and to the heart ; but, if they were ex- 
 
336 ^ ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN LIFE. 
 
 pected to stick, they must be beaten with rods into 
 the back. Through this ordeal of painful ceremo- 
 nies had the risen generation gone, and through the 
 same ordeal they honestly believed that the present 
 generation ought to go, and must go. No exception 
 was made in favor of genius. Its back was to be 
 kept as sore as stupidity's ; for, being yoked with 
 the latter, it must take the blows, the oaths, and the 
 imprecations. I can account for these things in no 
 other way than by supposing that the old set of per- 
 sons had come out of the old system with minds so 
 bewildered as to be ever afterwards incapable of 
 thinking upon it in a reasonable manner. In one 
 respect there is a considerable likeness between 
 mankind and some individuals of the brute creation. 
 The dog seems to love best that master who beats 
 him before giving him a bone. I have heard persons 
 say (those who had carefully studied the nature 
 and habits of that animal) that the mule is wont to 
 evince a gratitude somewhat touching when a bun- 
 dle of fodder is thrown to him at the close of a day 
 on which he has been driven within an inch of his 
 life. So with the good people of former times. 
 They had been beaten so constantly and so myste- 
 riously at school that they seemed to entertain a 
 grateful affection for it ever afterwards. It was, 
 therefore, with feelings of benign satisfaction, some- 
 times not unmixed with an innocent gayety of mind, 
 that they were wont to listen to their children when 
 they complained of the thrashings they daily re- 
 ceived, some of which would be wholly unaccount- 
 able. Indeed, the latter sort seemed to be consid- 
 ered, of all others, the most salutary. When the 
 punishment was graduated by the offense, it was 
 
DUKESBOROUGH TALES. 337 
 
 supporting too great a likeness to the affairs of 
 every-day life, and therefore wanting in solemn im- 
 pressiveness. But when a school-master, for no ac- 
 countable reason, whipped a boy, and so set his mind 
 in a state of utter bewilderment as to what could be 
 the matter, and the most vague speculations upon 
 what was to become of him in this world, to say 
 nothing of the next, — ah ! then it was that the ex- 
 perienced felt a happiness that was gently ecstatic. 
 They recurred in their minds to their own school 
 time, and they concluded that, as these things had 
 not killed them, they must have done them good. 
 So some of our good mothers in Israel, on occasions 
 of great religious excitement, as they bend over a 
 shrieking sinner, smile in serene happiness as they 
 fan his throbbing temples, and fondly encourage 
 him to shriek on ; thinking of the pit from which 
 they were digged, and of the rock upon which they 
 now are standing, they shout, and sing, and fan, and, 
 fanning ever, continue to sing and shout. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 When Mr. Lorriby had sounded the depths of 
 public sentiment, he became a new man. One Mon- 
 day morning he announced that he was going to 
 turn over a new leaf, and he went straightway to 
 turning it over. Before night several boys, from 
 small to medium, had been flogged. He had not 
 begun on the girls, except in one instance. In that 
 I well remember the surprise I felt at the manner 
 in which her case was disposed of. Her name was 
 Susan Potter. She was about twelve years old, and 
 
 well grown. When she was called up, inquiry was 
 
 22 
 
338 ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN LIFE. 
 
 made by the master if any boy present was willing 
 to take upon himself the punishment which must 
 otherwise fall upon her. After a moment's silence, 
 Seaborn Byne, a boy of fourteen, rose and pre- 
 sented himself. He was good-tempered and fat, and 
 his pants and round jacket fitted him closely. He 
 advanced with the air of a man who was going to 
 do what was right, with no thought of consequences. 
 Miss Potter unconcernedly went to her seat. 
 
 But Seaborn soon evinced that he was dissatisfied 
 with a bargain that was so wholly without consider- 
 ation. I believed then, and I believe to this day, 
 that but for his being so good a mark he would have 
 received fewer stripes. But his round fat body and 
 legs stood so temptingly before the rod, and the lat- 
 ter fell upon good flesh so entirely through its whole 
 length, that it was really hard to stop. He roared 
 with pain so unexpectedly severe, and violently 
 rubbed each spot of recent infliction. When it was 
 over, he came to his seat, and looked at Susan Pot- 
 ter. She seemed to feel like laughing. Seaborn 
 got no sympathy, except from a source which he de- 
 spised ; that was his younger brother, Joel. Joel 
 was weeping in secret. 
 
 ** Shut up your mouth," whispered Seaborn, 
 threateningly, and Joel shut up. 
 
 Then I distinctly heard Seaborn mutter the fol- 
 lowing words : — 
 
 ** Ef I ever takes another for her, or any of 'em, 
 may I be dinged, and then dug up and dinged over 
 again." 
 
 I have no doubt that he kept his oath, for I con- 
 tinued to know Seaborn Byne until he w^as an old 
 man, and I never knew a person who persistently 
 
DUKESBOROUGH TALES. 339 
 
 held that vicarious system of school punishment in 
 deeper disgust. What his ideas were about being 
 "dinged," and about that operation being repeated, 
 I did not know ; but I supposed it was something 
 that, if possible, would better be avoided. 
 
 Such doings as these made a great change in the 
 feelings of us little ones. Yet I continued to run 
 the crying schedule. It failed at last, and I went 
 under. 
 
 Mr. Lorriby laid it upon me remorselessly. I had 
 never dreamed that he would give me such a flog- 
 ging, — I, who considered myself, as everybody else 
 considered me, a favorite. Now the charm was 
 gone, — the charm of security. It made me very 
 sad. I lost my love for the teacher. I even grew 
 cold tow^ards Rum, and Rum in his turn grew cold 
 towards me. Not that we got into open hostilities. 
 For, saving an occasional fretfulness, Rum w^as a 
 good fellow, and personally I had liked him. But 
 then he was from principle a thorough Lorriby, and 
 therefore our intimacy must stop, and did stop. 
 
 In a short time Mr. Lorriby had gone as nearly 
 all round the school as it was prudent to go. Every 
 boy but two had received his portion, some once, 
 some several times. These two were Mr. Bill Will- 
 iams and another big boy, named Jeremiah Hobbes. 
 These were, of- course, as secure against harm from 
 Mr. Lorriby as they would have been had he been 
 in Guinea. Every girl also had been flogged, or had 
 had a boy flogged for her, except Betsy Ann Aery, 
 the belle of the school. She was a light-haired, 
 blue-eyed, plump, delicious-looking girl, fourteen 
 years old. Now for Miss Betsy Ann Aery, as it 
 was known to everybody about the school-house, Mr. 
 
340 ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN LIFE. 
 
 Bill Williams had a partiality which, though not 
 avowed, was decided. He had never courted her in 
 set words, but he had observed her from day to day, 
 and noticed her ripening into womanhood with con- 
 stantly increasing admiration. He was scarcely a 
 match for her even if they both had been in condi- 
 tion to marry. He knew this very well. But con- 
 siderations of this sort seldom do a young man any 
 good. More often than otherwise they make him 
 worse. At least such was their effect upon Mr. Bill. 
 The greater the distance between him and Miss 
 Betsy Ann, the more he yearned across it. He sat 
 in school where he could always see her, and oh, 
 how he eyed her ! Often, often have I noticed Mr. 
 Bill, leaning the side of his head upon his arms, ex- 
 tended on the desk in front of him, and looking at 
 her with a countenance which, it seemed to me, 
 ought to make some impression. Betsy Ann re- 
 ceived it all as if it was no more than she was en- 
 titled to, but showed no sign whether she set any 
 value upon the possession or not. Mr. Bill hoped 
 she d^d ; the rest of us believed she did not. 
 
 Mr. Bill had another ambition, which was, if pos- 
 sible, even higher than the winning of Miss Aery. 
 Having almost extravagant notions of the greatness 
 of Dukesborough, and the distinction of being a res- 
 ident within it, he had long desired to go there as 
 a clerk in a store. He had made repeated applica- 
 tions to be taken in by Messrs. Bland & Jones, and 
 it was in obedience to a hint from these gentlemen 
 that he had determined to take a term of finishing 
 off at the school of Mr. Lorriby. This project was 
 never out of his mind, even in moments of his fond- 
 est imaginings about Miss Betsy Ann. It would 
 
DUKESBOROUGH TALES. 34 1 
 
 have been not easy to say which he loved the best. 
 The clerkship seemed to become nearer and nearer 
 after each Saturday's visit to town, until at last he 
 had a distinct offer of the place. The salary was 
 small, but he waived that consideration in view of 
 the exaltation of the office and the greatness of liv- 
 ing in Dukesborough. He accepted, to enter upon 
 his duties in four weeks, when the quarter session 
 of the school would expire. 
 
 The dignified ways of Mr. Bill after this made 
 considerable impression upon all the school. Even 
 Betsy Ann condescended to turn her eyes oftener in 
 the direction where he happened to be, and he was 
 almost inclined to glory in the hope that the posses- 
 sion of one dear object would draw the other along 
 with it. At least he felt that if he should lose the 
 latter the former would be the highest consolation 
 which he could ask. The news of the distinguished 
 honor that had been conferred upon him reached 
 the heads of the school early on the Monday follow- 
 ing the eventful Saturday when the business was 
 done. I say heads, for of late Mrs. Mehitable and 
 old Kate came almost every day. Mrs. Lorriby re- 
 ceived the announcement without emotion. Mr. 
 Lorriby, on the other hand, in spite of the prospect 
 of losing a scholar, was almost extravagant in his 
 congratulations. 
 
 " It was a honor to the whole school," he said. 
 ** I feels it myself. Sich it war under all the circum- 
 stances. It was obleeged to be, and sich it war, and 
 as it war sich, I feels it myself." 
 
 Seaborn Byne heard this speech. Immediately 
 afterwards he turned to me and whispered the fol- 
 lowing comment : — 
 
 " He be dinged ! the decateful old son-of-a-gun ! " 
 
342 ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN LIFE. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 It was the unanimous opinion amongst Mr. Lorri- 
 by's pupils that he was grossly inconsistent with 
 himself : that he ought to have begun with the rigid 
 policy at first, or have held to the mild. Having 
 once enjoyed the sweets of the latter, thoughts 
 would occasionally rise and questions would be 
 asked. Seaborn Byne was not exactly the head, 
 but he was certainly the orator, of a revolutionary 
 party. Not on his own account ; for he had never 
 yet, except as the voluntary substitute of Miss Susan 
 Potter, felt upon his own body the effects of the 
 change of discipline. Nor did he seem to have any 
 apprehensions on that score. He even went so far 
 as to say to Mr. Bill Williams, who had playfully 
 suggested the bare idea of such a thing, that "ef 
 old Jo Lorriby raised his old pole on him, he would 
 put his lizzard " (as Seaborn facetiously called his 
 knife) "into his paunch." He always carried a very 
 big knife, with which he would frequently stab im- 
 aginary Lorribys in the persons of saplings and 
 pumpkins, and even the air itself. This threat had 
 made his brother Joel extremely unhappy. His lit- 
 tle heart was bowed down with the never-resting 
 fear and belief that Seaborn was destined to commit 
 the crime of murder upon the body of Mr. Lorriby. 
 On the other hand. Seaborn was constantly vexed by 
 the sight of the scores of floggings which Joel re- 
 ceived. Poor Joel had somehow in the beginning 
 of his studies gotten up the wrong road, and as no- 
 body ever brought him back to the starting point he 
 was destined, it seemed, to wander about lost ever- 
 
DUKESBOROUGH TALES. 343 
 
 more. The more floggings he got the more hope- 
 less and wild were his efforts at extrication. It w^as 
 unfortunate for him that his brother took any in- 
 terest in his condition. Seaborn had great contempt 
 for him, but yet he remembered that he was his 
 brother, and his brother's heart would not allow it- 
 self to feel no concern. That concern manifested 
 itself in endeavoring to teach Joel himself out of 
 school, and in flogging him himself by way of pre- 
 venting Joel's having to submit to that disgrace at 
 the hands of old Joe. So eager was Seaborn in this 
 brotherly design, and so indocile was Joel, that for 
 every flogging which the latter received from the 
 master he got from two to three from Seaborn. 
 
 However, the inflictions which Seaborn made, 
 strictly speaking, could not be called floggings. 
 Joel, among his other infirmities, had that of being 
 unable to take care of his spelling-books. He had 
 torn to pieces so many that his mother had ob- 
 tained a paddle and pasted on both sides of it as 
 many words as could be crowded there. ]\Irs. Byne, 
 who was a woman of decision, had been heard to 
 say that she meant to head him at this destructive 
 business, and now she believed that she had done it. 
 But this instrument was made to subserve a double 
 purpose with Joel. It was at once the object, and in 
 his brother's hands was the stimulus, of his little 
 ambition. Among all these evils, floggings from Mr. 
 Lorriby and paddlings from Seaborn, and the abid- 
 ing apprehension that the former was destined to be 
 murdered by the latter, Joel Byne's was a case to be 
 pitied. 
 
 " It ar a disgrace," said Mr. Bill to me one morn- 
 ing as we were going to school, " and I wish Mr. 
 
344 ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN LIFE. 
 
 Larrabee knowed it. Between him and Sebe, that 
 little innocent individiel ar bent on bein' useded up 
 bodaciously. Whippins from Mr. Larrabee and pad- 
 dlins from Sebe ! The case ar wusser than ef thar 
 was two Larrabees. That ar the ontimeliest paddle 
 that ever / seen. He have to try to larn his paddle, 
 and when he can't larn it, Sebe, he take his paddle, 
 fling down Joel, and paddle him witJi his paddle. In 
 all my experence, I has not seed jest sich a case. It 
 ar beyant hope." 
 
 Mr. Bill's sympathy made him serious, and indeed 
 gloomy. The road on which the Bynes came to 
 school met ours a few rods from the spring. We 
 were now there, and Mr. Bill had scarcely finished 
 this speech when we heard behind us the screams of 
 a child. 
 
 •* Thar it is agin," said Mr. Bill. *' At it good and 
 soon. It do beat everything in this blessed and on- 
 timely world. Ef it don't, ding me ! " 
 
 We looked behind us. Here came Joel at full 
 speed, screaming with all his might, hatless, with 
 his paddle in one hand and his dinner-bucket, with- 
 out cover, hanging from the other. Twenty yards 
 behind him ran Seaborn, who had been delayed by 
 having to stop in order to pick up Joel's hat and the 
 bucket-cover. Just before reaching the spring, the 
 fugitive was overtaken and knocked down. Seaborn, 
 then getting upon him and fastening his arms with 
 his own knees, seized the paddle, and exclaimed, — 
 
 " Now, you rascal ! spell that word agin, sir. Ef 
 you don't, I '11 paddle you into a pancake. Spell 
 ^Crucifix! sir." 
 
 Joel attempted to obey. 
 
 ^* 5 agin, you little devil ! S-i, si! Ding my skin 
 
DUKESBOROUGH TALES. 345 
 
 ef you shan't larn it, or I '11 paddle you as long as 
 thar 's poplars to make paddles outen." 
 
 And he turned Joel over and made him ready. 
 
 " Look a here, Sebe ! " interposed Mr. Bill ; 
 "fun's fun, but too much is too much." 
 
 Now what these words were intended to be pre- 
 liminary to, there was no opportunity of ascertain- 
 ing ; for just then Mr. Josiah Lorriby, who had di- 
 verged from his own way in order to drink at the 
 spring, presented himself. 
 
 " What air you about thar, Sebion Byne ? " 
 
 Seaborn arose, and though he considered his con- 
 duct not only justifiable, but praiseworthy, he looked 
 a little crest-fallen. 
 
 " Ah, indeed ! You 're the assistant teacher, air 
 you } Interfering with my business, and my rights, 
 and my duties, and my — hem ! Let us all go to the 
 school-house now. Mr. Byne will manage business 
 hereafter. I — as for me, I ain't nowhar now. Come, 
 Mr. Byne, le's go to school." 
 
 Mr. Lorriby and Seaborn went on, side by side. 
 Mr. Bill looked as if he were highly gratified. " Ef 
 he don't get it now, he never will." 
 
 Alas for Joel ! Delivered from Seaborn, he was 
 yet more miserable than before, and he forgot his 
 own griefs in his pity for the inpending fate of Mr. 
 Lorriby, and his apprehension for the ultimate con- 
 sequence of this day's work to his brother. He 
 pulled me a little behind Mr. Bill, and tremblingly 
 whispered, — 
 
 *' Poor Mr. Larrabee ! Do you reckon they will 
 hang Seaby, Phil } " 
 
 " What for .? " I asked. 
 
 " For killing Mr. Larrabee." 
 
346 ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN LIFE. 
 
 I answered that I hoped not. 
 
 " Oh, Phil ! Seaby have sich a big knife ! An' he 
 have stob more saplins ! and more punkins ! and 
 more vvatermiUions ! and more mushmilUons ! And 
 he have even stob our old big yaller cat ! And he 
 have call every one of 'em Larrabee. And it 's my 
 pinion that ef it war n't for my paddle, he would a 
 stob me befo' now. You see, Phil, paddlin' me 
 sorter cools and swages him down a leetle bit. Oh, 
 Seaby ar a tremenduous boy, and he zx goiii to stob 
 Mr. Larrabee this blessed day." 
 
 As we neared the school-house we saw old Kate 
 at the usual stand, and wx knew that Mrs. Lorriby 
 was at hand. She met her husband at the door, 
 and they had some w^hispering together, of which 
 the case of Seaborn was evidently the subject. Joel 
 begged me to stay with him outside until the hor- 
 rible thing was over. So we stopped and peeped in 
 between the logs. We had not to wait long. Mr. 
 Lorriby, his mate standing by his side, at once be- 
 gan to lay on, and Seaborn roared. The laying on 
 and the roaring continued until the master was 
 satisfied. When all was over, I looked into Joel's 
 face. It was radiant with smiles. I never have 
 seen greater happiness upon the countenance of 
 childhood. Happy little fellow ! Seaborn would 
 not be hung. That illusion was gone forever. He 
 actually hugged his paddle to his breast, and with a 
 gait even approaching the triumphant, walked into 
 the house. 
 
DUKESBOROUGH TALES. 347 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 Having broken the ice upon Seaborn, Mr. Lorriby 
 went into the sport of flogging him whenever he felt 
 like it. Seaborn's revolutionary sentiments grew 
 deeper and stronger constantly. But he was now, 
 of course, hopeless of accomplishing any results 
 himself, and he knew that the only chance was to 
 enlist Jeremiah Hobbes or Mr. Bill Williams, and 
 make him the leader in the enterprise. Very soon, 
 however, one of these chances was lost. Hobbes 
 received and accepted an offer to become an over- 
 seer on a plantation, and Seaborn's hopes were now 
 fixed upon Mr. Bill alone. That also was destined 
 soon to be lost by the latter' s prospective clerkship. 
 Besides, Mr. Bill being even-tempered, and never 
 having received and being never likely to receive 
 any provocation from Mr. Lorriby, the prospect of 
 making anything out of him was gloomy enough. 
 In vain Seaborn raised innuendoes concerning his 
 pluck. In vain he tried every other expedient, even 
 to secretly drawing on Mr. Bill's slate a picture of a 
 very little man flogging a very big boy, and writing 
 as well as he could the name of Mr. Lorriby near 
 the former and that of Mr. Bill near the latter. Sea- 
 born could not disguise himself ; and Mr. Bill, when 
 he saw the pictures, informed the artist that if he 
 did not mind what he was about he would get a 
 worse beating than ever Joe Larrabee gave him. 
 Seaborn had but one hope left, but that involved 
 some little delicacy, and could be managed only 
 by its own circumstances. It might do, and it 
 might not do. If Seaborn had been accustomed to 
 
348 ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN LIFE. 
 
 asking special Divine interpositions, he would have 
 prayed that if anything was to be made out of this it 
 might be made before Mr. Bill should leave. Sure 
 enough, it did come. Just one week before the 
 quarter was out it came. But I must premise the 
 narration of this great event with a few words. 
 
 Between Mrs. Lorriby and Miss Betsy Ann Aery 
 the relations were not very agreeable. Among other 
 things which were the cause of this were the unwar- 
 rantable liberties which Miss Aery sometimes took 
 with Kate, Mrs. Lorriby's mare. Betsy Ann, in spite 
 of all dangers (not the least of which was that of 
 breaking her own neck), would treat herself to an oc- 
 casional ride whenever circumstances allowed. One 
 day at play-time, when Mrs. Lorriby was out upon 
 one of her walks, which she sometimes took at that 
 hour, Betsy Ann hopped upon the mare, and ban- 
 tered me for a race to the spring and back. I ac- 
 cepted. We set out. I beat old Kate on the re- 
 turn, because she stumbled and fell. A great laugh 
 was raised, and we were detected by Mrs. Lorriby. 
 Passing me, she went up to Betsy Ann, and thus 
 spoke : — 
 
 "■ Betsy Ann Acree, libities is libities, and horses 
 is horses, which is mars is mars. I have ast you not 
 to ride this mar, which she was give to me by my 
 parrent father, and which she have not been rid, no, 
 not by Josiah Lorribee hisself, and which I have said 
 I do not desires she shall be spilt in her gaits, and 
 which I wants and desires you will not git upon the 
 back of that mar nary nother time." 
 
 After this event these two ladies seemed to re- 
 gard each other with even increased dislike. 
 
 Miss Betsy Ann. A cry had heretofore escaped cor- 
 
DUKESBOROUGH TALES. 349 
 
 rection for any of her short-comings, although they 
 were not few. She was fond of mischief, and no 
 more afraid of Mr. Lorriby than Mr. Bill Williams 
 was. Indeed, Miss Betsy Ann considered herself to 
 be a woman, and she had been heard to say that a 
 whipping was something which she would take from 
 nobody. Mr. Lorriby smiled at her mischievous 
 tricks, but Mrs. Lorriby frowned. These ladies 
 came to dislike each other more and more. The 
 younger, when in her frolics, frequently noticed the 
 elder give her husband a look which was expressive 
 of much meaning. Seaborn had also noticed this, 
 and the worse Miss Aery grew the oftener Mrs. 
 Lorriby came to the school. The truth is that Sea- 
 born had pondered so much that he at last made a 
 profound discovery. He had come to believe fully, 
 and in this he was right, that the object which the 
 female Lorriby had in coming at all was to protect 
 the male. A bright thought ! He communicated 
 it to Miss Aery, and slyly hinted several times that 
 he believed she was afraid of Old Red Eye, as he 
 denominated the master's wife. Miss Aery indig- 
 nantly repelled every such insinuation, and became 
 only the bolder in what she said and what she did. 
 Seaborn knew that the Lorribys were well aware of 
 Mr. Bill's preference for the girl, and he intensely 
 enjoyed her temerity. But it was hard to satisfy 
 him that she was not afraid of Old Red Eye. If 
 Old Red Eye had not been there, Betsy Ann would 
 have done so and so. The reason why she did not 
 do so and so was because Old Red Eye was about. 
 Alas for human nature ! — male and female. Betsy 
 Ann went on and on, until she was brought to a 
 halt. The occasion was thus. 
 
350 ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN LIFE. 
 
 There was in the school a boy of about my own 
 size, and a year or two older, whose name was Mar- 
 tin Granger. He was somewhat of a pitiful-looking 
 creature, —■ whined when he spoke, and was fre- 
 quently in quarrels, not only with the boys, but with 
 the girls. He was suspected of sometimes playing 
 the part of spy and informer to the Lorribys, both 
 of whom treated him with more consideration than 
 any other pupil, except Mr. Bill Williams. Miss 
 Betsy Ann cordially disliked him, and she honored 
 myself by calling me her favorite in the whole 
 school. 
 
 Now Martin and I got ourselves very unexpect- 
 edly into a fight. I had divided my molasses with 
 him at dinner-time for weeks and weeks. A few of 
 the pupils, whose parents could afford to have that 
 luxury, were accustomed to carry it to school in 
 phials. I usually ate my part after boring a hole 
 in my biscuit, and then filHng it up. I have often 
 wished since I have been grown that I could relish 
 that preparation as I relished it when a boy. But 
 as we grow older our tastes change. Martin Granger 
 relished the juice even more than I. In all my ob- 
 servations I have never known a person of any de- 
 scription who was as fond of molasses as he was. It 
 did me good to see him eat it. He never brought 
 any himself, but he used to hint, in his whining way, 
 that the time was not distant when his father would 
 have a whole kegful, and when he should bring it to 
 school in his mother's big snuff-bottle, which was 
 well known to us all. Although I was not so san- 
 guine of the realization of this prospect as he seemed 
 to be, yet I had not on that account become tired of 
 furnishing him. I only grew tired of his presence 
 
DUKESBOROUGH TALES. 35 I 
 
 while at my dinner, and I availed myself of a tri- 
 fling dispute one day to shut down upon him. I not 
 only did not invite him to partake of my molasses, 
 but I rejected his spontaneous proposition to that 
 effect. He had been dividing it with me so long 
 that I believe he thought my right to cut him off 
 now was estopped. He watched me as I bored my 
 holes, and poured in and ate, and even wasted, the 
 precious fluid. I could not consume it all. When 
 I had finished eating, I poured water into the phial 
 and made what we called *' beverage." I would 
 drink a little, then shake it and hold it up before me. 
 The golden bubbles shone gloriously in the sun- 
 light. I had not said a word to Martin during these 
 interesting operations, nor even looked towards him. 
 But I knew that his eyes were upon me and the 
 phial. Just as I swallowed the last drop, his full 
 heart could bear no more, and he uttered a cry of 
 pain, I turned to him and asked him what was the 
 matter. The Question seemed to be considered as 
 adding insult to injustice. 
 
 "Corn deternally trive your devilish hide," he an- 
 swered, and gave me the full benefit of his clinched 
 fist upon my stomach. He was afterwards heard to 
 say that "thar was the place whar he w^anted to hit 
 fust." We closed, scratched, pulled hair, and oth- 
 erwise struggled until we were separated. Martin 
 went immediately to Mr. Lorriby, gave his version 
 of the brawl, and just as the school was to be dis- 
 missed for the day I was called up and flogged with- 
 out inquiry and without explanation. 
 
 Miss Betsy Ann Aery had seen the fight. When 
 I came to my seat, crying bitterly, her indignation 
 could not contain itself. 
 
352 ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN LIFE. 
 
 " Mr. Larribee," she said, her cheeks growing red- 
 der, **you have whipped that boy for nothing." 
 
 Betsy Ann, with all her pluck, had never gone so 
 far as this. Mr. Lorriby turned pale, and looked at 
 his wife. Her red eyes fairly glistened with fire. 
 He understood it, and said to Betsy Ann in a hesi- 
 tating tone, — 
 
 " You had better keep your advice to yourself." 
 
 "I did not give you any advice. I just said you 
 whipped that boy for nothing, and I said the truth." 
 
 " Ain't that advice, madam } " 
 
 " I am no madam, I thank you, sir ; and if that 's 
 advice " — 
 
 *' Shet up your mouth, Betsy Ann Aery." 
 
 "• Yes, sir," said Betsy Ann, very loud, and she 
 fastened her pretty pouting lips together, elevated 
 her head, inclined a little to one side, and seemed 
 amusedly awaiting further orders. 
 
 The female Lorriby here rose, went to her hus- 
 band, and whispered earnestly to him. He hesitated, 
 and then resolved. 
 
 " Come here to me, Betsy Ann Aery." 
 
 She went up as gayly as if she expected a present. 
 
 " I am going to whip Betsy Ann Aery. Ef any 
 boy here wants to take it for her, he can now step 
 forrards." 
 
 Betsy Ann patted her foot, and looked neither to 
 the right nor to the left, nor yet behind her. 
 
 When a substitute was invited to appear, the 
 house was still as a graveyard. I rubbed my legs 
 apologetically, and looked up at Seaborn, who sat 
 by me. 
 
 - " No, sir ; if I do may I be dinged, and then dug 
 up and " — I did not listen to the remainder ; and 
 
DUKESBOROUGH TALES. 353 
 
 as no one else seemed disposed to volunteer, and as 
 the difficulty was brought about upon my own ac- 
 count, and as Betsy Ann liked me and I liked Betsy 
 Ann, I made a desperate resolution, and rose and 
 presented myself. Betsy Ann appeared to be dis- 
 gusted. 
 
 " I don't think I would whip that child any more 
 to-day, if I was in your place, especially for other 
 folk's doings." 
 
 ''That 's jest as you say." 
 
 '' Well, I say go back to your seat, Phil." 
 
 I obeyed, and felt relieved and proud of myself. 
 Mr. Lorriby began to straighten his switch. Then 
 I and all the other pupils looked at Mr. Bill Will- 
 iams. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 Oh, what an argument was going on in Mr. Bill's 
 breast ! Vain had been all efforts heretofore made to 
 bring him in any way into collision with the Lorri- 
 bys. He had even kept himself out of all combi- 
 nations to get a little holiday by an innocent duck- 
 ing, and useless had been all appeals heretofore to 
 his sympathies ; for he was like the rest who had 
 been through the ordeal of the schools, and had 
 grown to believe that it did more good than harm. 
 If it had been anybody but Betsy Ann Aery, he 
 would have been unmoved, But it was Betsy Ann 
 Aery, and he had been often heard to say that if 
 Betsy Ann Aery should have to be whipped he 
 should take upon himself the responsibility of see- 
 ing that that must not be done. And now that con- 
 tingency had come. What ought to be done } How 
 was this responsibility to be discharged } Mr. Bill 
 
 23 
 
354 ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN LIFE. 
 
 wished that the female Lorriby had stayed away 
 that day. He did not know exactly why he wished 
 it, but he wished it. To add to his other difficulties, 
 Miss Betsy Ann had never given any token of her 
 reciprocation of his regard ; for now that the nov- 
 elty of the future clerkship had worn away, she had 
 returned to her old habit of never seeming to notice 
 that there was such a person as himself. But the 
 idea of a switch falling upon her whose body, from 
 the crown of her head to the soles of her feet, was 
 so precious to him outweighed every other consid- 
 eration, and he made up his mind to be as good as 
 his word, and take the responsibility. Just as the 
 male Lorriby (the female by his side) was about to 
 raise the switch, — 
 
 " Stop a minute, Mr. Larrabee ! " he exclaimed, ad- 
 vancing in a highly excited manner. 
 
 The teacher lowered his arm and retreated one 
 step, looking a little irresolute. His wife advanced 
 one step, and, looking straight at Mr. Bill, her robust 
 frame rose at least an inch higher. 
 
 ** Mr. Larrabee ! I — ah — don't exactly consider 
 myself — ah — as a scholar here now ; because — 
 ah — I expect to move to Dukesborough in a few 
 days, and keep store thar for Mr. Bland & Jones." 
 
 To his astonishment, this announcement, so im- 
 pressive heretofore, failed of the slightest effect now, 
 when, of all times, an effect was desired. Mr. Lor- 
 riby, in answer to a sign from his wife, had recovered 
 his lost ground, and looked placidly upon him, but 
 answered nothing. 
 
 " I say," repeated Mr. Bill distinctly, as if he sup- 
 posed he had not been heard, " I say that I expect 
 in a few days to move to Dukesborough ; to live 
 thar ; to keep store thar for Mr. Bland & Jones." 
 
DUKESBOROUGH TALES. 355 
 
 '* Well, William, I think I have heard that before. 
 I want to hear you talk about it some time when it 
 ain't school time, and when we ain't so busy as we 
 air now at the present." 
 
 " Well, but " — persisted Mr. Bill. 
 
 " Well, but t " inquired Mr. Lorriby. 
 
 " Yes, sir," answered the former, insistingly. 
 
 ** Well, but what } Is this case got anything to do 
 with it } Is she got anything to do with it } " 
 
 " In cose it have not," answered Mr. Bill, sadly. 
 
 " Well, what makes you tell us of it now, at the 
 present } " Oh ! what a big word was that us, then, 
 to Josiah Lorriby ! 
 
 " Mr. Larrabee," urged Mr. Bill, in as persuasive 
 accents as he could employ ; " no, sir, Mr. Larrabee, 
 it have not got anything to do with it ; but yit " — 
 
 " Well, yit what, William .? " 
 
 " Well, Mr. Larrabee, I thought as I was a-goin' 
 to quit school soon, and as I was a-goin' to move to 
 Dukesborough — as I was a-goin' right oiiteii your 
 school intoo Dukesborough as it war, to keep store 
 thar, may be you mout, as a favor, do me a favor be- 
 fore I left." 
 
 '' Well ! may I be dinged, and then dug up and 
 dinged over agin ! " This was said in a suppressed 
 whisper by a person at my side. '* Beggin' ! beggin' ! 
 ding his white-livered hide — beg-gin ! " 
 
 " Why, William," replied Mr. Lorriby, " ef it war 
 convenant, and the favor war not too much, it mout 
 be that I mout grant it." 
 
 " I thought you would, Mr. Larrabee. The favor 
 ain't a big one, — leastways, it ain't a big one to you. 
 It would be a mighty" — But Mr. Bill thought he 
 could hardly trust himself to say how big a one it 
 would be to himself. 
 
356 ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN LIFE. 
 
 " Well, what is it William ? " 
 
 "Mr. Larrabee ! — sir, Mr. Larrabee, I ax it as a 
 favor of you, not to whip Betsy Ann, — which is 
 Miss Betsy Ann Aery." 
 
 " Thar now ! " groaned Seaborn, and bowed his 
 head in despair. 
 
 The male Lorriby looked upon the female. Her 
 face had relaxed somewhat from its stern expression. 
 She answered his glance by one which implied a 
 conditional affirmative. 
 
 ** Ef Betsy Ann Aery will behave herself, and 
 keep her impudence to herself, I will let her off this 
 time." 
 
 All eyes turnecl to Betsy Ann. I never saw her 
 look so fine as she raised up her head, tossed her 
 yellow ringlets back, and said in a tone increasing 
 in loudness from beginning to end, — 
 
 " But Betsy Ann Aery won't do it'' 
 
 *' Hello agin thar ! " whispered Seaborn, and 
 raised his head. His dying hopes of a big row were 
 revived. This was the last opportunity, and he was 
 as eager as if the last dollar he ever expected to 
 make had been pledged upon the event. I have 
 never forgotten his appearance, as, with his legs wide 
 apart, his hands upon his knees, his lips apart, but 
 his teeth firmly closed, he gazed upon that scene. 
 
 Lorriby, the male, was considerably disconcerted, 
 and would have compromised ; but Lorriby, the 
 female, again in an instant resumed her hostile at- 
 titude, and this time her great eyes looked like two 
 balls of fire. She concentrated their gaze upon 
 Betsy Ann with a ferocity which was appalling. 
 Betsy Ann tried to meet them, and did for one mo- 
 ment ; but in another she found she could not hold 
 
DUKESBOROUGH TALES. 357 
 
 out longer ; so she buried her face in her hands and 
 sobbed. Mr. Bill could endure no more. Both arms 
 fairly flew out at full length. 
 
 "The fact ar," he cried, ''that I am goin' to take 
 the responsibility ! Conshequenches may be conshe- 
 qnenches, but I shall take the responsibility." His 
 countenance was that of a man who had made up 
 his mind. It had come at last, and we were per- 
 fectly happy. 
 
 The female Lorriby turned her eyes from Betsy 
 Ann, and fixed them steadily on Mr. Bill. She ad- 
 vanced a step forward, and raised her arms and 
 placed them on her sides. The male Lorriby placed 
 himself immediately behind his mate's right arm, 
 while Rum, who seemed to understand what was 
 going on, came up, and, standing on his mistress's 
 left, looked curiously up at Mr. Bill. 
 
 Seaborn Byne noticed this last movement. *' Well, 
 ef that don't beat creation ! You in it too, is you } " 
 he muttered through his teeth. '* Well, never do 
 you mind. Ef I don't fix you, and put you whar 
 you '11 never know no more but what you 've got a 
 tail, may I be dinged, and then," etc. 
 
 It is true that Seaborn had been counted upon 
 for a more important work than the neutralizing of 
 Rum's forces ; still, I knew that Mr. Bill wanted 
 and needed no assistance. We were all ready, how- 
 ever, — that is, I should say, all but Martin. He had 
 no griefs, and therefore no desires. 
 
 Such was the height of Mr. Bill's excitement that 
 he did not even seem to notice the hostile demon- 
 strations of these numerous and various foes. His 
 mind was made up, and he was going right on to his 
 purpose. 
 
358 ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN LIFE. 
 
 " Mr. Larrabec," he said, firmly, " I am goin' to 
 take the responsibility. I axed you as a favor to do 
 me a favor before I left. I ain't much used to axin' 
 favors ; but sich it war now. It seem as ef that favor 
 cannot be grant. Yea, sich is the circumstances. 
 But it must be so. Sense I have been here they 
 ain't been no difficulties betwixt you and me, nor be- 
 twixt me and Miss Larrabee ; and no nothin' of the 
 sort, not even betwixt me and Rum. That dog have 
 sometimes snap at my legs ; but I have bore it for 
 peace, and wanted no fuss. Sich, therefore, it was 
 why I axed the favor as a favor. But it can't be 
 hoped, and so I takes the responsibility. Mr. Larra- 
 bee, sir, and you, Miss Larrabee, I am goin' from 
 this school right intoo Dukesborough, straight intoo 
 Mr. Bland's store, to clerk thar. Sich bein' all the 
 circumstances, I hates to do what I tells you I 'm 
 goin' to do. But it can't be hoped, it seem, and I ar 
 goin' to do it." 
 
 Mr. Bill announced this conclusion in a very 
 highly elevated tone. 
 
 " Oh, yes, ding your old hides of you ! " I heard at 
 my side. 
 
 " Mr. Larrabee, and you, Miss Larrabee," con- 
 tinued the speaker, " I does not desires that Betsy 
 Ann Aery shall be whipped. I goes on to say that 
 as sich it ar, and as sich the circumstances, Betsy 
 Ann Aery can't be whipped whar I ar, ef I can keep 
 it from bein' done." 
 
 "You heerd that, did n't you.?" asked Seaborn, 
 low, but cruelly triumphant; and Seaborn looked at 
 Rum as if considering how he should begin the 
 battle with him. 
 
 Mrs. Lorriby seldom spoke. Whenever she did, 
 it was to the point 
 
DUKESBOROUGH TALES. 359 
 
 " Yes, but Weelliam Weelliams, you can't keep it 
 from bein' done." And she straightened herself yet 
 taher, and, raising her hands yet higher upon her 
 sides, changed the angle of elbows from obtuse to 
 acute. 
 
 "Yes, but I kin," persisted Mr. Bill. '' Mr. Larra- 
 bee ! Mr. Larrabee ! " 
 
 This gentleman had lowered his head, and was 
 peering at Mr. Bill through the triangular opening 
 formed by his mate's side and arm. The reason why 
 Mr. Bill addressed him twice was because he had 
 missed him when he threw the first address over her 
 shoulder. The last was sent through the triangle. 
 
 " Mr. Larrabee ! I say it kin be done, and I 'm 
 goin' to do it. Sir, little as I counted on sich a case, 
 yit still it ar so. Let the conshequenches be what 
 they be, both now and some futur day. Mr. Larra- 
 bee, sir, that whippin' that you was a-goin' to give 
 to Betsy Ann Aery cannot fall upon her shoulders, 
 and — that is, upon her shoulders, and before my 
 face. Instid of sich, sir, you may jest — instid of 
 whippin' her, sir, you may — instid of her, give it, 
 sir — notwithstandin' and nevertheless — you may 
 give it to ME." 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 " Oh ! what a fall was there, my countrj'raen ! 
 Then you and I and all of us fell down ! " 
 
 If the pupils of Josiah Lorriby's school had had the 
 knowledge of all tongues ; if they had been famil- 
 iar wdth the histories of all the base men of all the 
 ages, they could have found no words in which to 
 characterize, and no person with whom to compare, 
 Mr. Bill Williams. If they had known what it was 
 
360 ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN LIFE. 
 
 to be a traitor, they might have admitted that he was 
 more like this, the most despicable of all characters, 
 than any other. But they would have argued that he 
 was baser than all other traitors, because he had 
 betrayed, not only others, but himself. Mr. Bill Will- 
 iams, the big boy, the future resident of Dukesbor- 
 ough, the expectant clerk, the vindicator of perse- 
 cuted girlhood in the person of the girl he loved, 
 the pledge-taker of responsibilities, — that he should 
 have taken the pains, just before he was going away, 
 to degrade himself by proposing to take upon his 
 own shoulders the rod that had never before de- 
 scended but upon the backs and legs of children ! 
 Poor Seaborn Byne ! If I ever saw expressed in a 
 human being's countenance disgust, anger, and ab- 
 ject hopelessness, I saw them as I turned to look at 
 him. He spoke not one word, not even in whispers, 
 but he looked as if he could never more place con- 
 fidence in mortal flesh. 
 
 When Mr. Bill had concluded his ultimatum, the 
 female Lorribv's arms came down, and the male 
 Lorriby's head went up They sent each the other 
 a smile. Both were smart enough to be satisfied. 
 The latter was more than satisfied. 
 
 " I am proud this day of William Williams. It 
 air so, and I can but say I air proud of him. Will- 
 iam Williams were now in a position to stand up 
 and shine in his new spere of action. If he went 
 to Dukesborough to keep store thar, he mout now go 
 sayin' that as he had been a good scholar, so he 
 mout expect to be a good clerk, and fit to be trusted, 
 yea, with thousands upon thousands, ef sich mout 
 be the case. But as it was so, and as he have been 
 to us all as it war, and no difficulties, and no nothin' 
 
DUKESBOROUGH TALES. 36 1 
 
 of the sort, and he war goin', and it mout be soon, 
 yea, it mout be to-morrow, from this school straight 
 intoo a store, I cannot, nor I cannot. No, far be it. 
 This were a skene too solemn and too lovely for sich. 
 I cannot, nor I cannot. William Williams may now 
 take his seat." 
 
 Mr. Bill obeyed. I was glad that he did not look 
 at Betsy Ann as she turned to go to hers. But she 
 looked at him. I saw her, and, little as I was, I saw 
 also that if he ever had had any chance of winning 
 her it was sfone from him forever. It was now late 
 in the afternoon, and we were dismissed. Without 
 saying a word to any one, Mr. Bill took his arith- 
 metic and slate (for ciphering, as it was called then, 
 was his only study). We knew what it meant, for 
 we felt, as well as he, that this was his last day at 
 his school. As my getting to school depended upon 
 continuance, I did not doubt that it was my last, also. 
 
 On the way home, but not until separating from 
 all the other boys, Mr. Bill showed some disposition 
 to boast. 
 
 "You all little fellows was monstous badly skeerd 
 this evening. Squire." 
 
 *' Was n't you scared too } " I asked. 
 
 " Skeerd } I 'd like to see the school-master that 
 could skeer me. I skeerd of Joe Larrabee.^" 
 
 ** I did not think you were scared of him." 
 
 " Skeerd of who, then ? Miss Larrabee } Old 
 Red Eye 'i She mout be redder-eyed than what she 
 ar, and then not skeer me. Why, look here. Squire,. 
 how would I look goin' into Dukesborough, into Mr. 
 Bland and Jones' store, right from bein' skeerd of 
 old Miss Larrabee ; to be runnin' right intoo Mr. 
 Bland and Jones' store, and old Mehetibilly Larra- 
 
362 ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN LIFE. 
 
 bee right arter me, or old Joe nuther? It wur well 
 for him that he never struck Betsy Ann Aery. Ef 
 he had a struck her, Joe Larrabee's strikin' days 
 would be over." 
 
 ** But was n't you goin' to take her whippin' for 
 her .? " 
 
 " Lookee here, Squire, I did n't take it, did I 1 " 
 ** No, but you said you was ready to take it." 
 " Poor little fellow ! " he said, compassionately. 
 " Squire, you are yit young in the ways of this sor- 
 rowful and ontimely world. Joe Larrabee knows 
 me, and I knows Joe Larrabee, and, as the feller said, 
 that ar sufficient." 
 
 We were now at our gate. IVIr. Bill bade me good 
 evening, and passed on ; and thus ended his pupil- 
 age and mine at the school of Josiah Lorriby. 
 
 II. 
 
 THE PURSUIT OF MR. ADIEL SLACK. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 " Companions 
 That do converse, and waste the time together, 
 Whose souls do bear an equal yoke of love." 
 
 Merchant of Venice. 
 
 Mr. Benjamin (but as everybody called him, Un- 
 cle Ben) Pea resided two miles out of Dukesbor- 
 ough. He was a small farmer, — not small in per- 
 son, but a farmer on a small scale. He raised a fair 
 crop of corn, a trifle of cotton, great quantities of 
 potatoes, and some pinders. It was said that in his 
 younger days he used to be brisk in his business, 
 and to make something by hauling wood to town. 
 He spent as little as he could, and saved as much as 
 
DUKESBOROUGH TALES. 363 
 
 ne could ; but for a certain purpose he kept as good 
 an establishment as he could. His little wagon used 
 to be good enough to carry him and the old woman 
 to town ; yet he bought a second-hand gig, and did 
 other things in proportion. It was extravagant, and 
 he knew it, but he had a purpose. That purpose 
 was to marry off his daughter Georgiana. Now, 
 Georgiana had told him for years and years, even 
 before the old woman died, that if he wanted to 
 marry her off (a thing she cared nothing about her- 
 self) the only way to do that was for the family to go 
 in a decent way. And now that the old woman had 
 died, and her father had grown old, she had her own 
 way, and that was as decent as could be afforded, 
 and no more. 
 
 Miss Georgiana Pea was heavy, — heavy of being 
 married off, and heavy of body. Her weight for 
 fifteen years at the least had not been probably less 
 than one hundred and seventy pounds. In her sea- 
 sons of highest health, which were probably oftener 
 in the latter part of the fall than at any other pe- 
 riod of the year, people used to guess that it might 
 be even more ; but there was no getting at it at 
 any time, because she always stoutly refused to be 
 weighed. True, she laced ; but that did not seem 
 to diminish her materially ; for what was pressed 
 down in one region reappeared in another. She 
 had a magnificent bust. This bust was her pride ; 
 that was evident. Indeed, she as good as confessed 
 as much to me one day. I knew the family well ; 
 she did n't mind me. I was a very small boy, and she 
 was aware that I considered that bust a wonderful 
 work of nature. I have often been amused, since I 
 have grown old and less impressible by such things, 
 
364 ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN LIFE. 
 
 to remember ht)vv tremendously magnificent I used 
 to regard the bust of Georgiana Pea. 
 
 Yet she did n't marry. The old gentleman had 
 been so anxious about it that he had lon^: aiio rather 
 given it out in a public way that upon her marriage, 
 with his consent (she was the only child ; Peter- 
 son died when a boy, of measles), he should give up 
 everything, houses, lands, furniture, and money, and 
 live upon the bounty of his son-in-law. These sev- 
 eral items of property had been often appraised by 
 neighbors as accurately as could be done (considering 
 that the exact amount of money could not be veri- 
 fied), in view of ascertaining for their own satisfac- 
 tion what her dowry might be. The appraisement 
 had gone through many gradations of figures while 
 the bridegroom delayed his coming. At the period of 
 which I am now telling, there were those who main- 
 tained that Uncle Ben was worth four thousand dol- 
 lars ; others shook their heads, and said thirty-five 
 hundred ; while others yet, who professed to know 
 more about it than anybody else, they did n't care 
 who it was, insisted that three thousand was the 
 outside. Many a man, it seemed to me, and some 
 that would have been worth having, might have 
 been caught by that bust and that prospective fort- 
 une. But they were not : and now, at thirty, or 
 thereabout, she was evidently of the opinion that 
 even if she had many desires to enter into the es- 
 tate of marriage their chances of gratification were 
 few. Indeed, Miss Pea was at that stage when she 
 ivas beginning to speak at times of the other sex 
 with disgust. 
 
 Mr. Jacob Spouter resided in the very heart of 
 Dukesborough, and kept a hotel. The town being 
 
DUKESBOROUGH TALES. . 365 
 
 small, his business was small. He was a small man, 
 but looked bright, capable, and business-like. He 
 dressed pretty well. But this was for effect, and 
 was both a delusion and a snare. It was for a sign 
 for his hotel. To look at him you would have sup- 
 posed that he kept a good hotel ; but he did not. It 
 is surprising, indeed, to consider how few men there 
 are who do. But this is a great theme, and entirely 
 independent of what I wish to tell, except so far as 
 it may relate to the fact that Mr. Spouter had yet 
 living with him an only child, a daughter, whose 
 name was Angeline. Miss Angeline, instead of tak- 
 ing after the Spouters, who were short, took after 
 the Fanigans, who were long. She was a very thin 
 young lady, almost too thin to look well, and her 
 hair and complexion were rather sallow. But then 
 that hair curled, — every hair curled. 
 
 Who has not a weakness } Miss Pea had hers, as we 
 have seen ; and now we shall see, as everybody for 
 years had seen, that Miss Spouter had hers also. It 
 was an innocent one : it was her curls. In the mem- 
 ory of man that hair had never been done up ; but 
 through all changes of circumstances and weather it 
 had hung in curls, just as it hung on the day when 
 this story begins. They had been complimented 
 thousands of times, and by hundreds of persons ; 
 the guests of years had noticed them, and had ut- 
 tered and smiled their approbation ; and there had 
 been times when Miss Spouter hoped, in spite of 
 the want of other as striking charms, and in spite of 
 the universally known fact that her father had all 
 ways been insolvent and always would be, that those 
 curls would eventually entangle the person without 
 whom she felt that she could never be fully blest 
 
366 ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN LIFE. 
 
 While this person was a man, it was not any partic- 
 ular individual of the species. Many a time had 
 she seen one who, she thought, would answer. She 
 was not very fastidious, but she positively believed 
 (and this belief made her appear to be anxious) that, 
 in view of all the circumstances of her life, the best 
 thing that she could do for herself would be to 
 marry. Yet Miss Spouter did not regard herself as 
 wholly selfish in this wish ; for there was something 
 in her, she thought, which she constantly under- 
 stood to be telling her that if she had the opportu- 
 nity she could make some man extremely happy. 
 
 But though those curls had been so often praised, 
 — yea, though they had been sometimes handled, — 
 to such a degree did people's admiration of them ex- 
 tend, that Miss Spouter, like her contemporary in 
 the country, was unmarried, and beginning to try 
 to feel as if she despised the vain and foolish world 
 of man. 
 
 These young ladies were friends, and always had 
 been. They were so much attached that each 
 seemed, to a superficial observer, to believe that she 
 had been born for but one special purpose, and that 
 was to help the other to get married ; for Miss 
 Spouter believed and Miss Pea knew that marriage 
 was a subject which, without intermission, occupied 
 the mind of her friend. It was pleasant to hear Miss 
 Pea extol Miss Spouter's curls ; then it was pleasant 
 to hear Miss Spouter, who was more sentimental 
 and the better talker of the two, praise Miss Pea's 
 " figger," by which term she meant only her bust. 
 No one ever dreamed that it was possible for any 
 jealousy to rise between them; for Miss Spouter 
 had no figure worth mentioning, and not a hair of 
 
DUKESBOROUGH TALES. 367 
 
 Miss Pea's head could be curled. Not only so, but 
 the fact was that in her heart of hearts (so curious 
 a thing is even the most constant friendship) neither 
 thought much of the other's special accomplish- 
 ment ; rather, each thought that there was entirely 
 too much of it, especially Miss Spouter touching the 
 " figger." If Miss Pea considered the property quali- 
 fication in her favor, Miss Spouter did not forget 
 that she resided right in the very heart of Dukes- 
 borough, and that her father kept a hotel. Now, as 
 long as the world stands, persons of their condition 
 who live in town will feel a little ahead of those who 
 live in the country ; while the latter, though never 
 exactly knowing why, will admit that it is so. Miss 
 Pea was generally very much liked by the neigh- 
 bors ; Miss Spouter had not made a great number 
 of friends. Probably town airs had something to do 
 in the matter. Miss Pea was considered the superior 
 character of the two, but neither of them thousfht 
 so ; Miss Spouter, especially, who knew the mean- 
 ing of many more words in the dictionary than her 
 friend, and who had read " Alonzo and Melissa" and 
 the " Three Spaniards," until she had the run of 
 them fully, never dreamed of such a thing. 
 
 Miss Spouter was fond of visiting Miss Pea, es- 
 pecially in watermelon time. Miss Pea valued the 
 friendship of Miss Spouter because it afforded her 
 frequent opportunities of staying at a hotel, a privi- 
 lege which she well knew not many country girls 
 enjoyed. To stay there, not as a boarder, but as a 
 friend of the family, to eat there and sleep there, and 
 not to pay for either of these distinctions as other 
 people did, but to do these things on invitation. 
 Now, while Miss Pea got much better eating and 
 
368 ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN LIFE. 
 
 sleeping at home, yet she could but consider the 
 former as privileges. She never would forget that 
 once when there was a show in Dukesborough, given 
 by a ventriloquist who was also a juggler, she had 
 been at Mr. J. Spouter's, and had been introduced to 
 the wonderful man, and his wife too, and had heard 
 them talk about general matters just as other people 
 did. 
 
 But time was waxing old. The bust had about 
 ceased to be ambitions, and the curls, though wish- 
 ful yet, were falling into the habit of giving only de- 
 spondent shakes. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 Miss Spouter sat in the hotel parlor ; it was on 
 the first floor, and opened upon the street. In it 
 were two wooden rocking-chairs, six split-bottoms, 
 and a half-round. I shall not undertake to describe 
 the window-curtains. She w^as pensive and silent ; 
 the still summer evening disposed her to meditation. 
 She sat silent and pensive, but not gloomy. Look- 
 ing out from the window, she espied on the further 
 side of the square Miss Pea, who was in the act of 
 turning towards her. Here she came, in yellow 
 calico and a green calash. As she w^alked, her arms 
 were crossed peacefully upon her chest. 
 
 " Howdye, stranger ! " saluted Miss Spouter. They 
 had not met in a fortnight. 
 
 " Stranger yourself." answered Miss Pea, with a 
 smile and a sigh. They embraced ; the curls fell 
 upon the bust, and the bust fostered the curls, as 
 only long-tried friends can fall upon and foster. 
 Miss Pea came to stay all night ; never had they 
 slept in the same house without sleeping together. 
 
DUKESBOROUGH TALES. 369 
 
 "Well, Georgy," Miss Spouter remarked, sweetly, 
 but almost invidiously, as they were getting into bed, 
 " figger is figger." 
 
 " It 's no sich a thing," answered Miss Pea, with 
 firm self-denial ; *'it 's curls, you know it 's curls." 
 
 " No, George, its figger." 
 
 " Angeline Spouter, you know it ain't ; it 's curls, 
 and you know it 's curls." 
 
 They blew out the candle, and for a short time 
 continued this friendly discussion ; but soon Miss 
 Pea got the best of it, as usual, and Miss Spouter, 
 by silence and other signs, admitted that it was 
 curls. 
 
 *' We 've been sleeping a long time together^ 
 George." 
 
 " We have that." 
 
 "Ten years." 
 
 " Yes, fifteen of 'em." 
 
 " Gracious me ! fifteen t " 
 
 " Yes, indeed." 
 
 "Well, but I was but a child then." 
 
 Miss Pea coughed. She was the elder by exactly 
 six months. 
 
 "Did we think ten years ago that you would now 
 be a Pea and I a Spouter } " 
 
 " I did n't think much about myself, but I had no 
 idea you would." 
 
 " Yet so it is ; you with your figger, and yet a 
 Pea." 
 
 " And what is worse, you with your, curls and yet 
 a Spouter." 
 
 " No, not worse. You ought to have been mar- 
 ried years ago, Georgiana Pea." 
 
 24 
 
370 ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN LIFE. 
 
 " If I had had your curls, and had wanted to 
 marry, I shoitid 3. been married and forgot it." 
 " No, George, I never had the requisite figger." 
 *' Angeline Spouter, do hush." 
 
 " Suppose we had married, George } " 
 
 "Well." 
 
 *' I think I could have made my husband love me 
 as few men have ever loved, be they whomsoever 
 they might." 
 
 '* Ah ! everybody knows that." 
 
 " No, alas ! none but thee, George." 
 
 ** Yes, but I know better." 
 
 Miss Spouter again gave it up. 
 
 Miss Pea would fain have gone to sleep. Her 
 hour for that purpose had come. But there was yet 
 no slumber upon the eyelids of Miss Spouter. She 
 talked away. She made hypothetical cases ; sup- 
 posing, for instance, they were married. Miss Spouter 
 ventured to look far into such a possible future, and 
 made some speculations upon the best and properest 
 ways of bringing up families. It appeared during 
 the conversation that Miss Spouter, as a general 
 thing, liked girls in families better than boys, while 
 Miss Pea's preference for boys was bold and de- 
 ided. She admitted Miss Pea's argument to be 
 ue, that girls are prettier, especially if they have 
 iris ; but, La me ! they are such a trouble ! Be-^ 
 ^xdes, boys were bad. She must admit that too. 
 But then they could be whipped and made to mind. 
 
 " Oh, you cruel creature ! " right there exclaimed 
 the merciful Miss Spouter. 
 
 " No, Angeline," remonstrated her companion, 
 
DUKESEOROUGH TALES. 37 1 
 
 " no, I am not cruel ; but I believe in makin' chil- 
 dren mind and behave theirselves." Miss Pea was 
 as firm as a rock. 
 
 *' So do I," replied Miss Spouter ; " but I can't un- 
 derstand how a woman, a good woman, and a kind 
 woman, and an affectionate woman, and a woman 
 that had — La, bless me ! how could such a woman 
 beat her own family to death, when in the wide, wide 
 world there was none others to stand by them in the 
 solemn hour, and " — 
 
 " No ! no ! no ! " interposed Miss Pea, " I don't 
 mean that. What I do mean — La ! Angeline 
 Spouter, what are you and me a talkin' about ? It 's 
 redickerlous. I 'm done." 
 
 Miss Pea laughed outright. But Miss Spouter 
 sighed, and remarked that it was n't in people to say 
 neither what was to be, nor what was n't to be. 
 
 " George, I do believe you are going to sleep." 
 
 Miss Pea declared that she was n't, and, like all 
 persons of her size, she thought she was telling the 
 truth. Miss Spouter had one or two other remarks 
 which she always made on such occasions, and which 
 she wanted to make now. 
 
 " Georgiana Pea, do you or do you not ever expect 
 to marry } I ask you candidly." 
 
 " No, Angeline, I don't. I may have had thoughts, 
 I may have had expectations ; pap looks as if he 
 would go distracted if I don't marry ; but to tell 
 you the truth, I have about come to the conclusion 
 that there's more marries now than ever does well 
 Pap declares that he means to marry me off to some- 
 body before he dies. He thinks that I could n't take 
 care of myself if he was to die, and that he takes 
 
372 ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN LIFE. 
 
 care of me now himself. I think I *m the one that 
 takes care of ////;/, and I think I could take as good 
 care of myself then as I do now. He says I shall 
 marry, though, and I 'm waitin' to see how it '11 be. 
 But I tell you, Angeline Spouter, that there 's more 
 marries now than ever does well." 
 
 ** And — well," answered Miss Spouter, '* and so 
 have I concluded about it. It is the honest expres- 
 sion of the genuine sentiments of my innermost 
 heart. What is man } A deceitful, vain, and fool- 
 ish creature, who will to-day talk his honey words 
 and praise a girl's curls, and to-morrow he is further 
 off than when we first laid our eyes on him. What 
 is your opinion of man, George } What now is your 
 opinion of Tom Dyson, who used to melt before the 
 sight of you like summer clouds ere the sun had 
 set -> " 
 
 " I think of Tom Dyson like I think of Barney 
 Bolton, who used to praise your curls just like they 
 were so much gold, and like, I think, of all of 'em, 
 and that 's about as much as I think of an old dead 
 pine-tree or post-oak." 
 
 Miss Pea had not read many books, like Miss 
 Spouter, and must necessarily, therefore, borrow her 
 comparisons from objects familiar to her country 
 life. Miss Spouter noticed the difference, but re- 
 frained from remarking on it. 
 
 "And yet, Georgiana, there is something in me; 
 I feel it. It tells me that I could have made Barney 
 Bolton much happier than Malinda Jones has. Bar- 
 ney Bolton is not happy, Georgiana Pea." 
 
 Miss Pea only coughed. 
 
 •* Yes, indeed ! Alas ! I see it in his eye ; I see 
 it in his walk ; I see it in his every action. The 
 
DUKESBOROUGH TALES. 373 
 
 image of Angeline Spouter is in his breast, and it 
 will stay there forever." 
 
 Miss Pea was always perfectly silent, and endeav- 
 ored to feel solemn when this last speech was said. 
 
 " If you were to marry, George, I should be the 
 lonesomest creature in the wide, wide world." 
 
 " Ah, well ! when I marry, which is never going 
 to be the case (that is, exceptin' pap do go dis- 
 tracted and hunt me up a good chance), you '11 be 
 married and forgot it, and that little curly-headed 
 girl will be readin', ritin', and cypherin'." Miss Pea 
 yawned, and laughed slightly. 
 
 " Never, never ! But won't you let your little boy 
 come sometimes in a passing hour to see a lonesome 
 girl, who once was your friend, but now, alas ! aban- 
 doned }'' 
 
 "Angeline Spouter, do hush." 
 
 " George, it is very warm to-night. Is it late t " 
 "I should — think — it was," answered Miss Pea, 
 and snored. 
 
 Miss Spouter lay for some time awake, but silent. 
 She then lifted the curtain from the window, through 
 which the moon, high in heaven, shone upon the 
 bed, withdrew from her cap five or six curls, ex- 
 tended them upon her snowy breast, smiled dis- 
 mally, put them up again, looked a moment at her 
 companion, then abruptly turned her back to her 
 and went to sleep. 
 
374 ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN LIFE. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 ** Is all the counsel that we too have shared, 
 The sisters' vows, the hours that we have spent 
 When we have chid the hasty-footed time 
 For parting us— O, and is all forgot ? '' 
 
 Midsummer-Night's Dream. 
 
 But friendship, like other good things, has ene« 
 mies. One of the most dangerous of these is a 
 third person. These beings are among the most in- 
 convenient and troublesome upon earth. Not often 
 do confidential conversations take place in a com- 
 pany of three, especially conversations appertaining 
 to friendship or love. When sentiment, hot from 
 the heart, has to move in triangles, it must often 
 meet with hindrances, and cool itself before it has 
 reached its destination. As in mathematics, be- 
 tween two points, so in social life between two 
 hearts, the shortest way is a straight line. A third 
 person makes a divergence and a delay. Third per- 
 sons have done more to separate very friends and 
 lovers than all the world besides. They had got- 
 ten between other persons before, and now one of 
 them had come to get between Miss Spouter and 
 Miss Pea. 
 
 Adiel Slack had left his native Massachusetts, 
 and from going to and fro upon the earth came in 
 an evil day and put up at the inn of Jacob Spouter. 
 He was tall, deep-voiced, big-footed, and the most 
 deliberate-looking man that had ever been in Dukes- 
 borough. He w^as one of those imperturbable Yan- 
 kees that could fool you when you were watching 
 him just as well as when you were not. When he 
 said that he was twenty-eight his last birthday, his 
 
DUKESBOROUGH TALES. 375 
 
 fresh-looking hair, his unwrinkled and unblushing 
 cheek, and his entire freedom from all signs of wear 
 and care made one believe that it must be so. If 
 he had said that he was forty-five, the gravity of his 
 countenance, the deliberation of his gait, and the 
 deep worldly wisdom of his eye would have made 
 one believe that he spoke truly. 
 
 The mere arrival of such a person in that small 
 community must necessarily create some stir. He 
 was decidedly the most remarkable of all the pas- 
 sengers who came by that morning's stage. While 
 they ate their breakfast with that haste which is 
 peculiar to the traveling public, he took his time. 
 The stage went away and left him at the table eat- 
 ing his fifth biscuit, while Mrs. Spouter's eyes were 
 fixed upon him with that steadfast look with which 
 she was wont to regard all persons who ate at her 
 table more than she thought was fair. He took an- 
 other biscuit, looked about for more butter, and at- 
 tempted to open a conversation with that lady ; but 
 she was not in the mood to be communicative, so he 
 set to the work of studying her. He made her out 
 to be a woman of a serious turn of mind, less atten- 
 tive to dress than her husband', but at the same time 
 aspiring, and possibly with propriety and with suc- 
 cess, to be the head of the family. After breakfast 
 he stood about, sat about, picked his teeth (" with a 
 ivory lancet, blamed if it were n't," Mr. Spouter 
 said), then took his hat and strolled about the village 
 all the forenoon. He went into both the stores, got 
 acquainted with the doctor and the blacksmith and 
 the shoemaker, found and bargained for the rent of 
 a room, and at dinner announced himself a citizen of 
 Georgia and a merchant of Dukesborough. In less 
 
376 ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN LIFE. 
 
 than a week a small stock of goods had arrived, and 
 were neatly arranged in the room, over the door of 
 which hung a sign-board, painted by himself, which 
 made Mr. Boggs and Messrs. Bland & Jones wish 
 either that they had never had sign-boards, or that 
 Adiel Slack, dry-goods merchant, had never come 
 there. 
 
 Being a single man, Mr, Slack boarded at the 
 hotel of J. Spouter. Now, no sooner was it settled 
 that he was to become a citizen than Miss Spouter, 
 according to ancient usage in such cases, felt her- 
 self to be yielding to the insidious influences of yet 
 another love. Who knew, she thought, that the fond 
 dream of her life was not destined now to become a 
 blissful realization ? The fact that Mr. Slack had 
 come from afar made her sentimental soul only the 
 more hopeful. How this was so she could not tell ; 
 but it was so, and the good girl began at once to 
 bestow the most assiduous cultivation upon every 
 charm which she thought she possessed. Mr. Slack 
 soon began to be treated with more consideration 
 than any of the boarders. He had within a week 
 moved from Mr. Spouter's end of the table up to 
 Mrs. Spouter's, and become, as it were, that lady's 
 left bower ; Miss Angeline being, of course, her right. 
 The hot biscuit were always handed first to him, and 
 if anybody got a hot waffle it was he. People used 
 to look up towards Mrs. Spouter and get occasional 
 glimpses of little plates of fresh butter and pre- 
 serves that tried to hide behind the castors or the 
 candle-stick. When there was pie, Mr. Slack was 
 helped first ; because, among other things, he was 
 the more sure of getting another piece, if the pie, 
 as it sometimes would happen, in spite of precau- 
 tion, should not go around the second time. 
 
DUKESBOROUGH TALES. 377 
 
 The servants did not like him, because he never 
 gave them a kind word nor a cent of money. But 
 let any one of them omit to hand the best things to 
 him first. Oh, the partiality that was shown as 
 plain as day to that man ! Everybody saw it, and 
 spoke of it among confidential friends. Some said 
 it was a sin ; some said it was a shame ; and som.e 
 went so far as to say it was both. 
 
 Among the boarders was one whom we have seen 
 before. For Mr. Bill Williams had now been in- 
 stalled in his office, and had already begun to take 
 new responsibilities. When this conduct towards 
 the new-comer had become notorious, he was heard 
 by many persons even to swear that he 'd " be 
 dinged ef he had had a hot waffle, even when thar 
 was waffles, sense that dadblasted Yankee had 
 moved up to old Miss Spouter's eend. As for the 
 second piece of pie, he had done gin out ever hearin' 
 of the like any more, thro'out the ages of a sorrow- 
 ful and ontimely world." He spoke with feeling, it 
 is true ; but he was a clerk in Mr. Bland's store, 
 and he thought that if he could not take some re- 
 sponsibility, the question was who could. '' Conse- 
 quenches mout be consequenches," said Mr. Bill, 
 " be they now or at some futer day. I takes the re- 
 sponsibility to say that the case ar a onfair, and a 
 imposition on the boarders and on the transhent 
 people, and it war also a shame on Dukesborough, 
 and also" — Mr. Bill shook his head for the con- 
 clusion. 
 
 But in spite of everybody and everything, Mr. 
 Slack kept his place. He soon discovered Miss 
 Spouter's weakness and her passion. Flattering as 
 it might be to find himself the favored object of her 
 
3/8 ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN LIFE. 
 
 pursuit, yet the reflection that her only capital was 
 a head of curls, which in time would fade, caused 
 him to determine, after making his calculations, that 
 no profit was to be netted in being caught. It was 
 not to be overlooked, however, that there would be, 
 if not an entire saving of expense, at least a post- 
 ponement of its payment in keeping his thoughts to 
 himself, and in seeming to be drawing nearer and 
 nearer the vortex which was ready to swallow him 
 up. The terms of board at Mr. Spouter's included 
 monthly payments. These did not suit calculations 
 which were made upon the principle of collecting 
 his own dues at once, and postponing his payments 
 as long as possible, and if possible to the end of 
 time. Now, he guessed that, great as were Mr. 
 Spouter's needs, that affectionate father would not 
 be the man to run the risk of driving off his daugh- 
 ter's suitor by worrying him with dues for a little 
 item of board, which might all come back again into 
 the family. In addition to this, he was not insen- 
 sible to the advantage of maintaining his seat at the 
 dinner-table, where biscuits, waffles, and pies, when 
 they came at all, were wont to make their first ap- 
 pearance. These several matters, being actual 
 money to him, were not to be overlooked by a man 
 who did nothing without deliberation. After delib- 
 erating, therefore, he determined to so conduct him- 
 self before the Spouters as to create the hope that 
 the time would come when he would solicit the 
 hand of her who long had been willing to bestow 
 it upon somebody. But he was careful to keep his 
 own advances and his meetings of advances without 
 the pale of such contingencies as he had learned 
 were accustomed in the South to follow breaches of 
 
DUKESBOROUGH TALES. 379 
 
 marriage contracts. If there was anything that Mr. 
 Slack was afraid of, it was a cane, or perhaps a cow- 
 hide. He maintained his place at the table, there- 
 fore, and took what it afforded in the manner of a 
 man who was very near to being one of the family. 
 He chatted in a very familiar manner with Mrs. 
 Spouter, and sympathized with her and Mr. Spout- 
 er's complaints of the high price of everything ex- 
 cept board. He lounged in the parlor, where he 
 told to Miss Angeline touching stories of his boy- 
 hood's home. He bestowed due admiration upon 
 those curls, which, every time he saw them, re- 
 minded him of a portrait of his mother (now a saint 
 in heaven), taken when she was a girl eighteen years 
 old. Then he spoke feelingly of how he had been 
 a wanderer, and how he began to think it was time 
 he had settled himself for good ; how he had never 
 felt exactly ready for that until since he had come 
 to Dukesborough ; and how — and how — and how 
 — embarrassment would prevent him from saying 
 more. But whenever he got to this point, and Miss 
 Angeline's heart would be about to burst, and she 
 would be getting ready to cast herself upon his 
 faithful bosom, he would change abruptly, become 
 frightened, and go away, and stay away for a week. 
 At their first meeting at the breakfast-table after 
 such scenes. Miss Spouter would appear quite con- 
 scious, hold herself yet straighter, and endeavor to 
 show that she had spirit. But before she had carried 
 it far she would conclude to stop where she was, go 
 back and begin again. 
 
380 ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN LIFE. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 But while these things were going on among the 
 Spouters, what had become of the Peas ? Whoever 
 supposes that Miss Georgiana was buried in the 
 country, dead or ahve, is simply mistaken. When 
 she heard that there was a new store in town 
 she wanted to see it ; and when Uncle Ben heard 
 that it was kept by a bachelor he was determined 
 that he should see his daughter ; for as he grew 
 older, his anxiety became more intense for Georgiana 
 to find somebody, as he expressed it, " to take keer 
 of her when my head gits cold." He begged her 
 several times to go before she was ready. 
 
 " Georgy, put ovl your yaller calliker, and go 
 long. 
 
 " Pap, do wait till I get ready. I do believe you 
 will go distracted." 
 
 Georgiana waited until she got ready, and when 
 she did get ready she went. Her plan was to go 
 and spend the night with Miss Spouter, and in com- 
 pany with her visit the new store the next morning. 
 
 Some persons believe in presentiments, and some 
 do not. I hardly know what to think of such things, 
 and have never yet made up my mind whether they 
 are reliable or not. Sometimes they seem to fore- 
 shadow coming events, and sometimes they are 
 clearly at fault. I have occasionally had dreams, 
 and subsequent events were in such exact sequence 
 with them that I have been inclined to accord to 
 them much of the importance that by some persons 
 it is maintained they have. Then again, the dreams 
 i have had (for I have always been a dreamer) have 
 
DUKESBOROUGH TALES. 38 1 
 
 been so entirely unreasonable, nay, absurd, and even 
 ridiculous, as to be impossible of fulfillment. For in- 
 stance, I have more than once dreamed that I was a 
 woman ; and I have since been much amused by the 
 recollection of some of the strange things that I did 
 and said while in that estate. I do not consider this 
 an opportune place to mention them, even if they 
 were worthy of mention on any occasion, and I al- 
 lude to them for the purpose of saying that after 
 such dreams I have been disposed to reject the 
 whole of the theory of dreams. 
 
 But all this is neither here nor there. The diver- 
 gence from my stor}', though natural, cannot with 
 propriety be farther extended ; and I will return at 
 once to my two heroines, in whose deportment will 
 be found the reason why such divergence was made. 
 
 No sooner had Miss Spouter determiined fully in 
 her mind that she would catch Mr. Slack if she 
 could than she was conscious of a wavering in her 
 friendship for Miss Pea ; for she felt that that per- 
 son was destined to be the greatest, if not the only 
 barrier between her and the object of her pursuit. 
 She, Miss Spouter, had seen him first, she thought. 
 She had, as it were, found him, and when George 
 was not even looking for any such property. George 
 did not have even a shadow of the remotest claim to 
 him. It was wrong and unkind in George to inter- 
 fere. She, Miss Spouter, would n't have treated her 
 so. Now all this was before Miss Pea had ever laid 
 eyes on Mr. Slack, and Miss Spouter knew it. That 
 made no difference, she said to herself. If anything, 
 it made it worse. She was hurt, and she could not 
 help it. 
 
 Miss Pea might have had a presentiment of this 
 
382 ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN LIFE. 
 
 state of things, and she mii^^ht not. But at all 
 events, when she went upon her visit she carried a 
 bucket of butter as a present to Mrs. Spouter. It 
 was just before supper-time, and consequently too 
 late for her to return that evening. If it had not 
 been, as she afterwards declared upon her word and 
 honor, she would have done so. The Spouters were 
 as cold as ice. Not even the bucket of butter could 
 warm Mrs. Spouter a single degree. Strange con- 
 duct for her ! Miss Angeline at first thought that 
 she would not go in to the supper table. But then 
 that would be too plain, and upon reflection she 
 thought she preferred to be there. 
 
 Miss Pea and Mr. Slack, of course, had to be in- 
 troduced. He found her disposed to be chatty. 
 Miss Spouter looked very grave, and raised her 
 pocket handkerchief to her mouth as an occasional 
 provincialism fell from the lips of her country vis- 
 itress, while her dear mother, taking the cue, would 
 glance slyly at Mr. Slack and snicker. 
 
 " This is oncommon good butter, Mrs. Spouter," 
 he remarked to the lady of the house ; and oh, the 
 quantities of butter that man did consume ! 
 
 Now, it was from Miss Pea's bucket ; they did not 
 like to confess it, but they had it to do. 
 
 " Want' know ! Wal, Miss Pea's mother must be 
 a noble housekeeper." 
 
 Mrs. Pea had been dead several years. 
 
 " Dew tell ! You, then } " 
 
 Miss Georgiana would have told a lie if she had 
 not acknowledged that it was. 
 
 Mr. Slack bestowed a look of intense admiration 
 upon her, which made Miss Spouter become quite 
 grave, and her mother somewhat angry. 
 
DUKESBOROUGH TALES. 383 
 
 After supper the gentleman followed the ladies 
 into the parlor. Miss Spouter was pensive, and 
 complained of headache. Miss Pea did not believe 
 she had it, and therefore she spoke freely of her 
 father's plantation, of what he was to her and she lo 
 him, and of how he was always urging her to get mar- 
 ried, a thing which she had made up her mind never 
 do to. When they retired for the night, Miss Spouter 
 being no better, but rather worse, they did what 
 they had never done in their lives before, whenever 
 there had been an opportunity of doing differently, 
 — they slept apart. This was capping the climax, 
 and Miss Pea went home the next morning, asking 
 herself many times on the way if friendship was any- 
 thing but a name. 
 
 It seemed to be a sad thing that these young 
 ladies should part. Hand in hand they had traveled 
 the broad road of life, and never jostled each other 
 when men were plentiful. But these animals had 
 broken from them like so many wild cattle, some 
 dodging and darting between them, some taking to 
 by-paths, and some wildly leaping over precipices, 
 until now they were drawing nigh to the road of 
 young womanhood, and there was but one left for 
 them both. If they could have divided him it mi.2:ht 
 have been well ; but he was indivisible. The fact 
 is, Mr. Slack ought never to have come there, or he 
 ought to have brought his twin-brother with him. 
 
 ** Wal, where 's your friend } " he inquired at 
 breakfast. ' 
 
 " She 's gone to look after what she calls her fa- 
 ther's plantation, I reckon," answered Mrs. Spouter, 
 sharply. 
 
 " Be n't her father got no plantation, then ? '* 
 
384 ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN LIFE. 
 
 " He 's got a little bit of two hundred acres of tol- 
 erble poor land. That 's all the plantation he 's got." 
 
 " Oh, Ma ! " interceded Miss Angeline. " Georgi- 
 ana is a very good girl." 
 
 " She may be good, but if you call her a girl, I 
 don't know what you would call them that 's fifteen 
 or twenty years younger ; and if she is young, that 
 would n't make her daddy rich." 
 
 "Oh, no! But, oh, Ma!" Miss Spouter persisted 
 in a general way, for she seemed to think that this 
 was all that could be said in her favor. Upon re- 
 flection she asked Mr. Slack if he did not think Miss 
 Pea had a good figger. Then she took a very small 
 sip of water, wiped her mouth carefully, and coughed 
 slightly. 
 
 '' Wal, I — ah," began Mr. Slack, but Ma laughed 
 so immoderately that he laughed too, and did not 
 finish giving his opinion in words. Alas for Miss 
 Pea! Big as she was, she was cut all to pieces and 
 salted away by Mrs. Spouter, while Miss Angeline 
 could only look a little reproachfully now and then, 
 .and say, '* Oh, Ma!" 
 
 ** Two hundred acres," mused Mr. Slack on his 
 bed that night. '' In Maas'chewsetts that is a con- 
 siderable farm ; other property in proportion. What 
 would it bring in ready money, if the old man CI 
 cal'late he 's old) should take a notion tew give it 
 up Jieow ? Already some money. He brought me 
 a watermelon this morning, and asked me to go out 
 and see them all. I 'm a going. Quick work, Adiel, 
 — quick work." 
 
 Mr. Slack was a hard man to catch ; it had been 
 tried before, and had failed. Nevertheless, Mrs. 
 
DUKESBOROUGH TALES. 385 
 
 Spouter and Miss Spouter, about six weeks later, 
 actually caught him in the act of coming away from 
 Mr. Pea's. What made it worse, he had a bunch of 
 pinks in his hand. The next time Miss Spouter met 
 Miss Pea she did not speak to her. She only shook 
 her curls, and said to herself in words which were 
 audible, " Such is life ! " Georgiana folded her hands 
 over her bosom, and asked if friendship was any- 
 thin 2: but a name, what was it } 
 
 But the man maintained his place at the table, to 
 which he marched with unusual confidence and good 
 humor at the first meal after his detection ; what is 
 more, the little plates maintained their places. In 
 spite of all his goings to the Peas and his returning 
 with bunches of pinks in his hands, his deportment 
 in any other respect had not, at least for the worst, 
 changed. Indeed, he looked oftener and more fondly 
 at the curls. Yes, thought Miss Spouter, he may 
 marry her, but the image of Angeline Spouter is in 
 his breast, and it will stay there forever. But for 
 her entreaties her Ma would have removed the little 
 plates, and sent him back to the other end of the 
 table, where he came from. 
 
 ** I 'm jest the woman to do it," she said. ''That 
 long-legged Yankee has eat more than his worth in 
 butter alone. The house '11 break or be eat up, it 
 makes no difference which, and nary cent of money 
 has he paid yit. Settle hisself, indeed ! He '11 never 
 settle his nasty self except whar thar 's money, or 
 everlastin' butter, and he not to pay for it neither. 
 And I '11 move them plates to-morrow mornin'. If I 
 don't, you may " — 
 
 "Oh, Ma! he don't love her, I know he don't. 
 Let them stay a while longer." 
 25 
 
386 ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN LIFE. 
 
 And the next morning the Httle plates would 
 come in, take their places, and look as cheerful as 
 if nothing had happened. 
 
 Mr. Slack did a cash business. Time rolled on ; 
 the faster it rolled the cheaper he sold. His stock 
 dwindled, and everybody asked why it was not being 
 replenished. It began to be rumored that he was 
 going to buy a plantation and settle himself. The 
 rumor was traced to Uncle Ben Pea. Miss Georgi- 
 ana was asked about it, and became confused. 
 
 " She jest as well a give it up," said Mr. Bill Will- 
 iams, at Mr. Spouter's table. Mr. Bill was gradually 
 edging up towards " quality eend," as he termed 
 the head. *'In fac, she did give it up farly. I axed 
 her a plain question; she couldn't say nothin', and 
 she did n't. She merrily hung her head upon her 
 bres, and she seemed monsous comfortubble. She 
 ar evidently scogitatin' on the blessed joys of a 
 futur state." 
 
 The next morning the little plates were absent, 
 and Mr. Slack, without seeming to notice that Mr. 
 Bill Williams had usurped his place, took his seat by 
 Mr. Spouter, and talked with him in the manner of 
 a man who had been on a journey of some weeks, 
 and had now returned. That gentleman did not 
 seem to be at all congratulatory on the occasion, 
 but immediately after breakfast brought within view 
 of his guest an account for three months' board. 
 The latter looked over it carefully, remarked that 
 he thought it was correct, begged that it might be 
 considered as cash, and walked away. This was an 
 eventful day to Mr. Slack ; for, besides the aforemen- 
 tioned incident, he sold out the remainder of his 
 stock to Messrs. Bland & Jones, went without his 
 
DUKESBOROUGII TALES. 387 
 
 dinner, borrowed a gig from the Justice of the 
 Peace, took him along with him to Mr. Pea's, where, 
 at three o'clock, p. m., he was married to Miss Geor- 
 giana. 
 
 ** Wretched creature ! " exclaimed Angeline, the 
 forsaken, when her mother informed her of the news 
 at night. At first she thought she would faint; but 
 she did not. She retired to her room, undressed, 
 looked at her curls in the glass even longer than 
 was her wont, put them away tenderly, got into bed, 
 apostrophized property and the other sordid things 
 of this world, and went to sleep with this thought 
 upon her mind : " Georgiana Pea may be by his 
 side ; but the image of Angeline Spouter is in his 
 breast, and it will stay there forever." 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 " Are we not one ? are we not joined by Heaven ? " 
 
 Fair Penitent. 
 
 Georgiana was married, and her father was glad 
 of it. It was what he had wanted long to see. The 
 danger of going distracted was over. He was 
 happy ; indeed, jubilant. For the truth is, he had 
 made the match. He and Mr. Slack had persuaded 
 and begged, and made such fair promises, that she 
 had been won rather against her judgment. Uncle 
 Ben at one time would have preferred a Southern 
 man ; but all of that class had shown such a want 
 of sense to appreciate his Georgy that he persuaded 
 himself that she had made a narrow escape in not 
 marrying one of them. Then Mr. Slack had come 
 from such an immense distance, and knew so much, 
 and talked so much, that Uncle Ben, as he admitted, 
 
388 ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN LIFE. 
 
 was actually proud of him. He maintained upon 
 the day of the marria^^e that Mas-sa-chic-setts was the 
 biggest word in the English language. But Georgi- 
 ana, who was as honest and as truthful a woman as 
 was in the world, insisted that her "Pap" went too 
 far, or rather that he did not go far enough, and that 
 Con-staii-ti-no-ple was a bigger. Uncle Ben did n't 
 like to have to give it up ; but when he found out 
 from Mr. Slack that the place bearing that name 
 was not in this country, and not even in America, he 
 and Mr. Slack together got Georgy so badly, and 
 wound her up so completely, that — oh, how they all 
 did laugh and go on ! The truth is that Uncle Ben 
 was rapidly lapsing into a state where he could 
 scarcely be considered faithful to his native section. 
 Yet in spite of all this, his son-in-law had some 
 ways of doing and talking that he did not quite un- 
 derstand ; but he trusted that they would wear off. 
 Georgy now had a husband to take care of her when 
 his head got cold ; by which he meant to signify the 
 time when he should be a dead man. She did not 
 seem to be perfectly happy, but, on the contrary, 
 somewhat ill at ease. But then she was n't any 
 young thing to let getting married run her raving 
 distracted. He liked Mr. Slack, upon the whole ; 
 iie suited him well enough, and that is what parents 
 generally care most for. He was a business man, 
 that 's what he was. He talked upon business even 
 on the afternoon of his marriage, and renewed the 
 subject after supper and the next morning. One 
 would have thought, to hear him talk about business, 
 that the honeymoon had shone out and gone down 
 long ago. It did not look exactly right ; but now 
 that Mr. Slack was a married man, he was for mak- 
 
• DUKESBOROUGH TALES. 389 
 
 ing something. \i lie owned the farm, he should do 
 this thing and that thing ; sell this piece of property 
 and convert it into cash ; in short, he should sell out 
 the whole concern, and go where land was cheaper 
 and better. If it were left to him, he should turn 
 it over so that in twelve months it should be worth 
 at least twice as much as it was now. It was very 
 clear to Uncle Ben that his son-in-law was a busi- 
 ness man. Still he did not make out the title-deeds. 
 Notwithstanding his hints to that effect heretofore, 
 he had never entertained the slightest notion of 
 oUch a thing. When Mr. Slack persisted in saying 
 what he should do if he were the owner, the old gen- 
 tleman took occasion to say, but in a somewhat jo- 
 cose way, that he and Georgy would have to wait for 
 that until his head got cold ; which, he said, by way 
 of consoling for the disappointment, would n't be 
 much longer. Mr. Slack seemed to be somewhat 
 hurt, but he merely remarked that he had a plenty 
 to live on, and that all Jie wanted with property was 
 for Georgiana to enjoy it. He had money enough 
 to buy a tract of land adjoining Mr. Pea's, and two 
 or three "fellows." If Georgiana had a good house- 
 woman, it would save her from a good deal of work 
 which now, since she was his wife, he would rather 
 she did n't have to do ; but — ah — he supposed he 
 should have to wait for that. 
 
 Yes, but he need n't do any such thing, Mr. Pea 
 stoutly maintained. Those being Mr. Slack's inten- 
 tions, the 'oman should be bought. The money was 
 there in that side-board drawer whenever they found 
 one to suit them. He should buy the 'oman him- 
 self. The son-in-law's countenance brightened a 
 little. He might have to go to Augusta in a few 
 
390 ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN LIFE. 
 
 days ; the likeliest gangs were there, generally ; and 
 it might suit just as well to take the money along 
 with him and buy the woman there. Georgiana 
 did n't say anything ; but, La me ! what did she 
 know about business ? 
 
 Mr. Slack sent into the village every day for the 
 mail, for Dukesborough, being immediately on the 
 great line of travel, had its daily mail. He had 
 been married just two days, when one morning a 
 letter was brought to him which made him turn a 
 little pale. Upon his father-in-law's inquiry from 
 whence it came, he answered, after a moment's hesi- 
 tation, that it was from a man who owed him some 
 money, and who had written to say that if he would 
 meet him the next day in Augusta he would pay 
 him a hundred dollars and renew the note. A hun- 
 dred dollars, indeed ! The rascal had promised to 
 pay half the note, and now as he was about settling 
 himself he was to be put off with a hundred dollars ! 
 He had a good mind not to go, and would not but 
 for the importance of having the note renewed. But 
 could he get there in time } How was that, Mr. 
 Pea } Why, it was easy enough ; the stage would 
 pass in a couple of hours, and as it traveled all 
 night he could reach Augusta by nine o'clock the 
 next morning. Mr. Slack hesitated. He was loath 
 to go so soon after being married ; but as he had 
 expected to go in a few days, anyhow, he guessed 
 he had as well go on at once, especially as negroes 
 seemed to be rising in price, and it was important 
 to get the woman as soon as possible. Certainly ; 
 business was business, if people wei^e married. Mr. 
 Slack ought to go at once ; he should, if it was him. 
 
 Uncie Ben took out the money, and Georgiana 
 
DUKESBOROUGH TALES. 39I 
 
 ordered lunch. Mr. Slack had so often complained 
 of the old gentleman's time-piece that the latter, 
 upon his entreaties to be allowed to take it with him 
 for repairs (at no expense to the owner, of course), 
 consented. The man of business then went to pack- 
 ing his trunk and satchel. Although he was to stay 
 but three days at furthest, yet, not knowing but that 
 he might need them, he packed in all his clothes, 
 looking about all over the house to be sure that he 
 had not mislaid anything. 
 
 It was a nice lunch. It ought to have been, for it 
 took a long time in getting ready. Mr. Slack was 
 not sure that he was going to get his supper, and he 
 therefore determined to put away enough to last 
 him to the end of his journey. He had barely fin- 
 ished when the servant, who had been stationed to 
 watch for the stage, announced that it was com- 
 ing. He bade both an affectionate adieu, looked 
 into the stage to see if there was any person in it 
 whom he knew, did n't seem to be disappointed that 
 there was not, hopped in, and off he went. 
 
 Far from pining on account of the absence of her 
 mate, Georgiana, sensible woman that she was, went 
 about her work as cheerfully as if nothing had hap- 
 pened. She had been so taken up with Mr. Slack 
 that several small domestic matters needed to be put 
 to rights again, and she seemed to be even glad of 
 the opportunity to look after them. She actually 
 sang at her work ; she was a good singer, too. The 
 Peas always had been : I knew the family well. 
 Georgiana was n't going to fret herself to death ; 
 so she resumed her old tasks and habits, moved 
 things back to their old places, and in every respect 
 did as if she had forgotten that she had ever been 
 married. 
 
392 ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN LIFE. 
 
 Uncle Ben was glad to see her in such gay spirits. 
 He knew what it was all for, and he laughed in- 
 wardly and became gay himself. It was that nigger 
 *oman. The old man counted the days and nights. 
 As much as he wanted to see Mr. Slack, he wanted 
 yet more to see his watch ; without it he felt like a 
 man without a newly-amputated leg ; but he would 
 not allow it to trouble him very much. He talked 
 a great deal, especially at meal times, about his 
 Georgy's prospects, joked her about many things, 
 talked of the prospects again, and what he and Mr. 
 Slack were going to do to make her the happiest 
 woman in the world. Georgiana never suggested 
 any change of their plans, and looked as if she in- 
 tended to be but clay in their hands. 
 
 Three days passed. Mr. Slack's very longest time 
 was out. The stage hove in view ; Mr. Pea was at 
 his gate ; his hat was in his hand. 
 
 " Good mornin'. Uncle Ben," said the driver, and 
 was passing on. 
 
 " Hello ! hello, Thompson ! " shouted the old man. 
 Thompson drew up. 
 
 *' Hain't you got Mr. Slack aboard ? " 
 
 " No, SIR ! " 
 
 " Hain't you got a nigger 'oman ?" 
 
 "No, sir." 
 
 ^'Whar's Mr. Slack?" 
 
 *'I don't know." 
 
 " Hain't you seed him 1 " 
 
 " No, sir." 
 
 " Hain't you heern of him } " 
 
 " No, sir." 
 
 " Why, what upon yearth does it mean } '* 
 
 " Mr. Slack did n't go to nary tavern, but got off 
 
DUKESBOROUGH TALES. 
 
 393 
 
 at a privit 'ouse way up town. I hain't seed him 
 nor heern from him sence. Was he to get back to- 
 night ? " 
 
 " Why, yes, certain and shore, without fail." 
 "Well, he ain't here, certin. Good evenin'." 
 " He hain't come, Georgy," said Uncle Ben, as he 
 went into the house. 
 " Has n't he t " 
 "Why, no, he hain't." 
 
 "Well, we must try and wait till he does come." 
 Uncle Ben was too much occupied with his own 
 disappointment to observe the equanimity with 
 which Georgy bore hers. It was now bed-time : the 
 daughter went to her room ; the father sat up at 
 least half an hour longer than usual. He was dis- 
 appointed, certain and sure. When people told 
 people they were coming at a certain time, people 
 wanted 'em to come ; especially when they had 
 people's watches. Oh, how he had missed it ! If 
 he had missed it by day, he had missed it as much 
 by night. It used to hang by a nail over his bed, 
 and he longed for the gentle lullaby of its tickings. 
 He had to go to bed, of course, but he lay awake 
 another half hour. A dreadful thought came : What 
 if Mr. Slack, after all, was an imposterer ! Oh, he 
 could n't bear it ! So he turned over and went to 
 sleep : but it would n't stay behind ; it crawled over 
 and came close to him in his sleep, and he dreamed 
 that he was the owner of a jeweler's shop, and that, 
 while he had no power to move, thieves were break- 
 ing through and stealing. 
 
 The next morning, immediately after breakfast, 
 Uncle Ben stood at his gate. He had a notion that 
 Mr. Slack was coming in a private conveyance 
 
394 ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN LIFE. 
 
 Sure enough, yonder came a gig with a man in it, 
 and a horse behind, with something on the horse. 
 Uncle Ben's eyes were dim, and he could n't make 
 it out ; but he hoped and believed that it was a nig- 
 ger 'oman. Vain hope and vain belief ! The gig 
 carried Mr. Triplet, the sheriff, and the horse bore 
 Mr. Pucket, a young lawyer from town. Uncle Ben 
 had no business with them ; so he bade them a good- 
 morning as they came up, and again turned his eyes 
 up the road. But the gentlemen stopped, and in- 
 quired if Mr. Slack was at home. No, but Mr. Pea 
 looked for him every instant. He had been gone to 
 Augusty three days, and was to a been back last 
 night, but he did n't. 
 
 Mr. Triplet looked upon Mr. Pucket and smiled. 
 We must observe that a new election had come on, 
 and Mr. Triplet had beaten Mr. Sanks. Mr, Pucket 
 looked upon Mr. Triplet, but did not smile. 
 
 "You must follow him.." 
 
 " Them must some foller him that kin run faster 
 than I kin," answered Mr. Triplet. 
 
 " Foller who .? " asked Mr. Pea. 
 
 "Mr. Slack." 
 
 " Why, he '11 be here to-night. Or I '11 be bound 
 he 's in a private conveyance, and '11 be here this 
 mornin'. In cose he 's comin' back, becase he 's got 
 four hundred dollars of my money to buy a nigger 
 'oman with, and my watch besides. /;/ cose he 's 
 coming back." 
 
 Mr. Triplet looked upon Mr. Pea and smiled com- 
 passionately. Mr. Pea looked upon Mr. Triplet and 
 frowned threateningly. 
 
 " What 's the matter, Jim Triplet 1 " 
 
 " The matter ar that you won't see your four hun- 
 
DUKESBOROUGH TALES- 395 
 
 dred dollars agin, nor your watch, nor the gentle- 
 man what carried 'em off." 
 
 "Why, what upon yearth is you talkin' about ? " 
 
 " I ar talkin' about the business of my office, 
 which ar to arress Mr. Adiel Slack, or Mr. Elishay 
 Lovejoy, or Mr. Ephraim Hamlin, or what mout be 
 the name of the gentleman that carried off your 
 four hundred dollars and your watch." 
 
 " Don't kick before you 're spurred, Triplet ; be- 
 case nobody ain't accused him of takin' the money 
 and watch, — leastways of stealin' it. Mr. Slack is 
 a honest man and my son-in-law ; and I tell you he '11 
 be back to-night, and I look for him every minnit of 
 the day." 
 
 " So much the better for us if he do come. I has 
 not come to arress him for taking of the money and 
 the watch, which is misdemeanors that I did n't 
 know tell now. But he is charge of obtainin' credit 
 by false pretensions, of stealin' divers money, of 
 tradin' w^ith niggers, and finually, with marryin' 
 three wdmming, and not waitin' for nary one of 'em 
 to die fust." 
 
 *' Oh, Lordy ! " exclaimed Mr. Pea. He then ap- 
 proached the sheriff, and in a tone which invited 
 candor and confidence, and even hinted at gratitude- 
 said, '* Jeems Triplet, I voted for you : you know I 
 did ; I always has. Ar what you say a fac ? " 
 
 " I know you did, Uncle Ben, and I tell you the 
 plain truth, — it ar a fac. Thay ain't no doubt about 
 it. Mr. Bucket here can tell you all about it." 
 
 Mr. Pea, without waiting to hear further, turned 
 and got into the house as fast as he could. He went 
 into a shed-room with uncommon desperation for a 
 man of his years, and raised his hands in order to 
 
396 ODDITIES IiV SOUTHERN LIFE. 
 
 take down a shot-gun from two forks on which it 
 used to hang. The forks were there, but the gun 
 was gone. He looked at the forks with the most 
 resentful astonishment, and with a voice towering 
 with passion asked them what in the name of thun- 
 der had become of his gun. Not receiving any an- 
 swer, he put the same interrogatory to the corner 
 behind the door, to the space under the bed, and 
 even to two small glass drawers, after opening and 
 shutting them with great violence. He then ran 
 back to the front door and questioned the whole uni- 
 verse on the subject. 
 
 " Robbed ! robbed ! ! " roared the old man. " Gen- 
 tul-men, ef I ain't robbed " — Mr. Pea had not 
 " cussed " before (as he afterwards declared upon 
 his word and honor) " in twenty year." 
 
 " Georgy ! Where 's Georgy .-* " It just now oc- 
 curred to him that it was possible Georgy might not 
 like the state of things herself. 
 
 Georgiana had been at the dairy, superintending 
 her butter. She had seen the men as they came, 
 had gone into the house as quietly as she could, and 
 was peeping and listening through the window of her 
 own room. 
 
 " Pap," she said, not loudly, but earnestly, " do 
 come here, if you please." 
 
 He went into her room. 
 
 ** I reckon now you 're satisfied. He 's got what 
 he came here for ; he 's stole from you, and he 's 
 stole from me ; I hain't got a pocket-handkerchief to 
 my name. But do, for goodness' sake, go and send 
 them men away." 
 
 "Oh, Lordy ! " reiterated Mr. Pea, retiring. " Gen- 
 tul-men, it 's no use : we are cotcht ; Georgy and me 
 
DUKESBOROUGH TALES. 397 
 
 has both been cotcht — I acknowledge the corn ; 
 and what is worser, it seem that I am the cause of 
 it all. He have took my money ; he have took my 
 watch ; he have took my gun ; he have took my rum- 
 beriller ; and da-ing his low-life skin, he have even 
 took Georgy's pocket-handkerchers. It seem like 
 he jest picked me and Georgy out for all his rascal- 
 ities. And to think that I should be 'cused of it all. 
 I did want her to marry. It look like a pity for her 
 not to git married. And now she is married, and 
 what have she married .'* A nasty, dad-blasted, 
 thievious Yankee ; and ain't even married at that ! 
 She is married, and she ain't married ; and she's a 
 orphlin ; and she 's a widder ; and nobody can't tell 
 what she ar and what she ain't ; and I don't under- 
 stand it ; and Georgy's name will go down to pos- 
 terity, and the Peas won't be nobody any more ; and 
 — oh, Lordy ! " 
 
 " Pap, do for goodness gracious' sake hush, and 
 come in the house ! " said Georgiana, advancing to 
 the front door. " The Lord knows, I 'm glad I ain't 
 married ; and if them other women don't grieve after 
 him any more than /grieve after him, they 've done 
 forgot him, that 's all. Pap, do come in the house." 
 
 Mr. Pea subsided, and the men rode away. Mr. 
 Pucket begged Mr. Triplet to hasten ; but the latter, 
 who was too old to be running for nothing, declared 
 in round terms that he 'd be dinged ef he did. 
 
 " I would n't a made myself ridicerlous. Pap, be- 
 fore company, if I 'd a been in your place. That 
 was pretty talk to have before men, and I in the 
 house hearin' everv word." 
 
 Mr. Pea, hearing himself accused of a new crime, 
 could n't stand it. 
 
398 ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN LIFE. 
 
 " I do believ^e that if old Saton was to come it 
 would be me that fotch him, or leastways sent for 
 him ; and I 'd leave he had a come as that d-ad- 
 blasted Yankee. Yes, it 's me : in cose it 's me. 
 Anything wrong, I done it ; oh, yes, in cose : certing. 
 Whar 's my hat ? " And the good man sallied forth 
 to his field, where he remained until dinner-time. 
 There were so many contending emotions in his 
 breast that he ate in silence, Georgiana had a good 
 appetite ; she ate away with a gusto, and eyed her 
 father amusedly. 
 
 " Pap, if I '11 tell you something, will you swear 
 you '11 keep it .^" 
 
 Uncle Ben laid down his knife and fork, and gazed 
 at her in amazement. 
 
 " Wipe your mouth, Pap, and tell me if you *11 
 
 swear." 
 
 "What is it } " he demanded authoritatively. 
 
 " Will you swear, I ask you } " 
 
 " That 's a mighty pooty question for a child to 
 ask its parrent." 
 
 "Oh, very well." And she helped herself again 
 from her favorite dish. " Won't you have some 
 more, Pap } " 
 
 " Georgy, what does you mean } " 
 
 " Will you swear .'* " 
 
 "No, I won't." 
 
 *' Oh, very well, then." And she peppered and 
 salted. 
 
 " Well, I never 'spected to come to this while my 
 head was hot. My own child : that I 've raised : 
 and raised respectable : to be settin' thar, at my 
 own table, a axin' her own parrent to swar : jest the 
 same as ef I was gwine into a Free Mason's lodge ; 
 which she knows I don't hold with no sich." 
 
DUKESBOROUGH TALES. 399 
 
 " Pap, I 've heard you often talking against the 
 Free Masons. I never thought they were so mighty 
 bad. What do they do that is so awful bad ? " 
 
 " You don't, do you } No, I suppose you don't ; 
 in cose you don't : takin' arter them as you do : in 
 cose you don't. I sposen you '11 be a jinin' 'em 
 yourself befo long. For they tells me they takes in 
 wimming too ; and swars them ; and they rips and 
 rears round jest like the men, and car's on ginnilly. 
 Oh, no : in cose you don't : takin' arter 'em as you 
 do." 
 
 ** I don't know what I might do, after what I 've 
 done already. But how do I take after 'em } " 
 
 " In havin' o' secrets that's a sin to keep ; and in 
 trying to make people swar that they won't tell 'em ; 
 and not even to their own parrents. That 's how 
 you are takin' arter 'em." 
 
 '* Oh, yes, I see now," she said, appearing to muse. 
 ** Still, this is something that I could n't tell without 
 your swearing not to mention to a blessed soul. It 's 
 worth swearin' for, Pap." 
 
 The old man was silent for a moment. 
 
 " Ar it an}-thing concernin' that mean runaway 
 Yankee } " 
 
 " If it is, will you swear } " 
 
 " Yes, I WILL, and cuss, too, if you want me. 
 I 've been a cussin' to myself all day, anyhow." 
 
 "You've cursed to other people besides yourself: 
 but I onlv want vou to swear." 
 
 She brought the family Bible, 
 
 "La, Georgy! is 3'ou in yearnest, sure enough.? 
 Why, what do you mean } You ain't no Jestice." 
 
 It made no difference ; she made him place his 
 hand on the book and swear that he w^ould never 
 
400 ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN LIFE. 
 
 reveal what she was going to tell him without hei 
 consent. Uncle Ben was very solemn while the 
 oath was being administered. It required several 
 minutes to impart the secret. When it was over 
 the old man's joy was boundless. He jumped up 
 and ran into his own room, where he cut up more 
 capers than any one could have believed that he 
 could cut up ; he ran back again, made Georgiana 
 rise from the table, hugged her, and made her sit 
 down again ; he rushed to the front door and huz- 
 zaed to the outer world ; he rushed back again and 
 hugged Georgy as she sat. Then he took his seat 
 again, and looked upon her with ineffable admiration. 
 Suddenly he grew serious. 
 
 " Oh, Georgy, now if I only had " — 
 
 Before he could speak further she had taken some- 
 thing from her bosom, and handed it to him. He 
 seized it with both hands, gazed at it, held it at arm's 
 length and gazed at it, opened and looked into it, 
 shut it up again, held it for a moment to his ear, 
 patted it gently, laid it on the table, then lifted up 
 his voice and wept. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 " I grant I am a woman." 
 
 Julius C^sar. 
 
 When the news of Mr. Slack's escapade reached 
 Dukesborough, there was running to and fro. Busi- 
 ness was suspended. Some asked if the like had 
 ever been heard of ; others asked everybody if they 
 had n't told him so. J. Spouter was among the 
 former, and Mr. Bill Williams among the latter. He 
 got leave of absence from the store, in order to roam 
 
DUKESBOROUGH TALES. 4OI 
 
 up and down all the forenoon for the purpose of 
 proving that he had prophesied what had taken 
 place, or its equivalent. He was delighted : my 
 observation is that almost everybody is, by the veri- 
 fication of a prophecy which he has made, or which 
 he thinks he has made. Miss Spouter tried to 
 laugh, but she did n't make much out of it. Mrs. 
 Spouter did n't laugh at all. How could she, when 
 she remembered the plates of butter that had been 
 consumed, not only without thanks, but without pay .'* 
 She did all the talking in the domestic circle. Mr. 
 Spouter seemed inclined to be taciturn. He merely 
 remarked that he had never been so outed in his 
 born days, and then shut up. But then Mr. Spouter 
 never had much to say when Mrs. Spouter had the 
 floor ; if, however, he had had the floor now, there 
 was nothing for him to say. He had not sued his 
 debtor, but for reasons other than the being a merci- 
 ful creditor. He was not used to such things. In- 
 deed, the very word suit was, and had long been, 
 disagreeable to his ear ; so much so that he had 
 never 2:one into court of his own accord. It was 
 one of his boasts, in comparing himself with some 
 others, that he had never been plaintiff in an action, 
 and never expected to be. He always discouraged 
 people from going to law, maintaining that people 
 never got much by going there : a remark that was 
 true when confined in its application to those who 
 had gone there carrying him with them. Yet Mr. 
 Spouter seldom lost a bill. It was always a wonder 
 to me how rapidly persons in his condition could 
 collect their bills. But this time Mr. Spouter, as he 
 said, was "outed." As he didn't relish Mr. Bill 
 Williams' jokes, and as Mrs. Spouter did n't, and at 
 
 26 
 
402 ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN LIFE. 
 
 last as Miss Spouter did n't, Mr. B. W. had to sus- 
 pend. 
 
 Poor Mr. Pucket ! His mind had been set upon a 
 fee ; but as no one could be found who could run 
 faster than Mr. Triplet, and as the fugitive had three 
 days' start, there was no pursuit. None but a brief- 
 less lawyer can imagine how badly Mr. Pucket felt. 
 
 *' And so she is n't married, after all ! " said Miss 
 Spouter to herself, when she was alone in her cham- 
 ber that night. *' Not married after all; no more 
 than I am. Yes, I suppose more than I am ; be- 
 cause she tJiought she was married, and I knew I 
 wasn't. That makes some difference ; and then — 
 and then " — But it was too wonderful for Miss 
 Spouter : she could n't make it out. So she only 
 said, " Oh, I wonder how she feels ! " 
 
 Now there was but one way to get the desired in- 
 formation, and that was to see her and hear it from 
 her own mouth. To most persons that way would 
 seem to be barred, because the last time the two 
 ladies met Miss Spouter had refused to speak. But 
 it did not seem so to her ; she would herself remove 
 all obstacles. She would forgive George ! Yes, 
 that she would. Was n't it noble to forgive } Did n't 
 the Bible teach us to forgive } Yes, she would for- 
 give. What a glory overspread the heart of the in- 
 jured when, in that tender moment, she found she 
 could forgive. She wished now that she had gone to 
 Georgiana to-day ; she would go to-morrow. Malice 
 should never have an abiding-place in that heart. It 
 might have it in other people's hearts, but it should 
 never have it in that one. Never, no never, while 
 memory remains. She laid herself calmly and sweetly 
 upon her bed, and was forcibly reminded, as she 
 
DUKESBOROUGH TALES. 403 
 
 thought of herself and her conduct, of the beauty and 
 the serenity of a summer's evening. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 " In that same place thou hast appointed me. 
 To-morrow truly will I meet with thee."' 
 
 Midsummer-Night's Dream. 
 
 Mr. Pea writhed and chafed under his oath. He 
 begged his Georgy to let him tell somebody. He 
 swore another oath, — that he should die if he did 
 n't. He did tell it there in the house several times 
 to imaginary auditors, after looking out of the doors 
 and windows to see if no real ones were near. Even 
 when he was out-of-doors, he went all about whis- 
 pering excitedly to himself, occasionally laughing 
 most tumultuously. Georgiana became uneasy. 
 
 " Pap, are you going to run distracted again .? " 
 
 " Georgy, ef I don't believe I am, I '11 — you may 
 kill me ! " 
 
 Georgiana had to yield. She wished to see Mr. 
 Spouter upon a little matter of business connected 
 with Mr. Slack, and she concluded to consent for 
 him to be sent for, and her father to inform him of 
 what she saw he must inevitably tell somebody. The 
 old man was extremely thankful, but he wanted to 
 make a request. 
 
 •' Georgy, you must let me send for Triplet. I 've 
 got a good joke on Triplet, a powerful joke on him. 
 And he 's a officer, Georgy, too," he added, seri- 
 ously. " Things like them, when they ar told, ought 
 to be told befo a officer, Georgy. Triplet is a offi- 
 cer. This case, an a leetle more, an it would a ffot 
 into cote ; an as Triplet ar a officer, he ought to be 
 here, in cose." 
 
404 ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN LIFE. 
 
 Georgiana consented, on hearing this last argu- 
 ment. But she expressly enjoined upon her father 
 that at any period of his disclosures, when she called 
 upon him to stop, he would have to do it. He prom- 
 ised to obey ; and the servant was sent into Dukes- 
 borough with the request that Messrs. Spouter and 
 Triplet should come out the next morning on par- 
 ticular business. Georgiana knew fully what she, 
 who was her friend, but now, alas, abandoned, w^as 
 thinking about, and therefore she was included in 
 the summons. 
 
 Early the next morning the party arrived. Miss 
 Spouter alighted in great agitation, rushed through 
 the front room into Georgiana' s, who was there 
 Avaiting for what she knew was to happen, looked 
 .all around as if she was expecting to find somebody 
 besides Georgiana, fell upon her in the old way, 
 pronounced her pardon, and then demanded to be 
 told all about it. Oh, my ! Dreadful ! Did ever ! 
 Vain and foolish man ! How did Georgiana feel } 
 
 Georgiana led her into her father's room, which 
 ■also served for the parlor. She w^as surprised and 
 annoyed to find Mr. Pucket there with the other 
 ^gentlemen. Mr. Pucket had. somehow, gotten the 
 wind of it, and said to himself that he did n't know 
 what might happen. He had been told by an old 
 lawyer that the only way for a young man to suc- 
 ceed at the bar was to push himself forward. So he 
 determined to go, and he went. Uncle Ben was glad 
 of it. He was going, for the first time in his life, to 
 make a speech ; and he washed as large an audience 
 tis possible. No, no ; in cose there wern't no in- 
 trusion, and no nothin' of the sort, nor nothin' else. 
 
 Georgiana sat very near her father. 
 
DUKESBOROUGH TALES. 405 
 
 Then Uncle Ben opened his mouth, and be- 
 gan : — 
 
 ** You see, gentul-men, it was all my fault, from 
 the fust. After Georgy seed him she did n't think 
 much of him. She said she did n't keer about mar- 
 ryin', nohow, and ef she did she wanted it to be to a 
 Southering man. But I and him too, we overper- 
 suaded her. He seemed to think so much of me and 
 her too ; and he had a store, and 'peared like a man 
 well to do. And I did want to see my only daughter 
 settle herself. The feelin' is nat'ral, as you know 
 yourself, Mr. Spouter ; all parrents that has daugh- 
 ters has 'em : ain't it so, Mr. Spouter } " 
 
 Mr. Spouter answered rather by his manner than 
 in words. IMiss Spouter became confused, and did 
 n't look at Mr. Bucket when he coughed. Mr. Trip- 
 let had seen something of life in his time : still he 
 took a chew of tobacco. 
 
 " Go on, Bap," said Georgiana. 
 
 " Yes. Well, you see, gentulmen, sich it war — 
 anyhow they got married. Georgy said when she 
 gin her consent she gin it to keep me from runnin' 
 distracted, as it did 'pear like I war. Howbeever, I 
 ar clean out o' that now. Circumances is altered 
 powerful. Well, as I said, anyhow thay got married 
 
 — that is, they did n't git married ; because he were 
 already married, and thay warn't no law for it, as 
 you know yourself, Mr. Bucket, thay warn't. But 
 
 — ah — leastways they went throo the — ah — the 
 motions, and the — ah — gittin' out lisens, and the 
 
 — ah — stannin' up in the floor and jinin' o' hands ; 
 and he come here to live. Well, now, don't you 
 b'leeve that Georgy, she spishuned him from the 
 v^ery fust day : for no sooner were he married, hardly, 
 
406 ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN LIFE. 
 
 than he begun to sarch behind every nuke and 
 corner about here, and before night, bless your soul, 
 he knowed more about whar things was in this 
 house than I did. Leastways, Georgy says so, and 
 it 's obleeged to be so ; for there 's things, many of 
 'em in this house, that I don't know whar they are." 
 And Mr. Pea looked around and above, taking as 
 big a view as if he were surveying the whole uni- 
 verse. 
 
 "Well, Georgy, she and he tuk a walk that fust 
 evenin'. Instid of talkin' along like tother folks 
 that 's jest got married, he went right straight to 
 talkin' about settlin' hisself, and put at her to begin 
 right away to git all she could out'n me ; which 
 Georgy, she did n't like no sich, and nobody would 
 n't a liked it that thought anything of herself. You 
 would n't, Angeline Spouter, you know you would 
 n't, the very fust day you was married." 
 
 " Go on, Pap, please." 
 
 *' Yes. Well, Georgy spishuned him again at 
 supper, from the way he looked at the spoons on the 
 table ; which ef they had a been the ginuine silver, 
 they would n't a been in this house now, to my opin- 
 ion ; probly ; leastways, ef " — Uncle Ben smiled, 
 and concluded to postpone the balance of this sen- 
 tence. 
 
 " Well, you see, Georgy Ann, arter supper, she 
 got sick, she did, and she hilt on to her head power- 
 ful. In cose, bed-time, hit had to come arter a while. 
 When hit did come, she were wusser, and she give 
 that feller a candle to go long to bed. When Georgy 
 goes to bed, she goes on throo into the little jinin' 
 back room, and she locked the door arter her. I 
 never knowed one word o' this untel arter he went 
 
DUKESBOROUGH TALES. 407 
 
 off. Well, arter he went to sleep, Georgy she heerd 
 a mighty groanin'. So she ups, she does, an onlocks 
 the door, and creeps in ^mighty sly. It seem like 
 he were dreamin' and talkin' in his sleep powerful. 
 He called names, sich as Jemimy, Susan Jane, Betsy 
 Ann, and — what was all them names, Georgy } " 
 
 " It makes no difference, Pap ; go on." 
 
 " And a heap more of 'em. Georgy can tell you, 
 cose she heard 'em over and ofting. Well, he seemed 
 to be powerful shamed of all of 'em, and he swore 
 he w^ern't married, and them that said so was a liar, 
 and all sich. Well, sich carrin' on made Georgy 
 b'leeve that he was a married man befo, and had 
 two or three wives already, or probable four or five. 
 And so Georgy seed rightaway that she was n't no 
 wife o' his'n, and didn't have no intrust in no 
 sich a d-evil. And she war right, Triplet. Triplet, 
 war n't she right ? " 
 
 " In cose," answered Mr. Triplet. 
 
 " Do go on. Pap." 
 
 "Well, yes. Yit still she didn't let on. The 
 kept up tolerble well in the day-time, but when night 
 come agin, Georgy she gits sick agin, and goes into 
 the jinin' little room agin. I never seed sich carrin' 
 on befo." 
 
 Uncle Ben had to stop and laugh awhile. Georgy 
 begged him to go on. 
 
 '* Well, she kep on hearin' him a goin' on, and 
 you think she would tell me the fust thing o' all 
 this.? Ef she had a told me — Howbeever, that ain't 
 neither here nor than Well, it seem he talked in 
 his sleep about other people besides wimming, about 
 men and about money, and declared on his soul that 
 he never stole it, which goes to show Georgy that 
 
408 ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN LIFE. 
 
 he war a rogue, as well as a rascal about wimming. 
 Yit in this time he begin to hint even around me 
 about property, and even jnsinivated that he would 
 like to have the whole plantation and all that 's on 
 it ! " Mr. Pea showed plainly by his manner, after 
 making this last remark, that no man had ever had 
 an ambition more boundless than the late Mr. Slack. 
 ** But I mighty soon give him to understand that he 
 war barkin' up the wrong tree ef he thought I was 
 gwine to give up tJiis plantation and my property be- 
 fore my head got cold. Them 's always fools that 
 does it. Howbeever, he talked so much about settlin' 
 hisself, and so easy and good about Georgy, and how 
 that all he keered about property was for her, and I 
 knowed that was all / keered about it for, that I told 
 him I 'd pay for a nigger 'oman for 'em. Well, you 
 see, I no sooner says that than he ups with a lie 
 about havin' to go to Augusty. But shore enuff, 
 arter he had been here two days, he ]iad to go too 
 Augusty, or somewhar else. Becase he got a let- 
 ter which skeered him powerful, and he said he war 
 goin' right off. I did n't spishun nothin' agin the 
 man, and I lets him have the money to buy the 
 nigger 'oman. I had no more spishun of him, 
 Jeems Triplet, than I have of you, only knowin' that 
 he was monstrous fond of money, which is all right 
 enough ef a man comes by it honest. Well, Georgy 
 she was tuk back tremenduous by his gittin' the 
 money so all on a sudding. Yit she did n't let on, 
 but makes out like she 's mighty sorry he war goin' 
 so soon, but mighty glad he 's goin' to fetch her a 
 nigger 'oman when he come back. She has him got 
 a mighty good snack of vittles ; and what ain't com- 
 mon for dinner, she puts on the table a plate of nice 
 
DUKESBOROUGH TALES. 409 
 
 fresh butter and a plenty of biscuit, Triplet." Mr. 
 Pea now looked as sly and as good-humored as it 
 was possible for him to be. *' Triplet, I 've got a 
 good joke on you." 
 
 Mr. Triplet seemed to guess what it was, and 
 smiled subduedly. 
 
 '' You know what you said about my never seein' 
 certing people and certing things — certing prop- 
 erty no more V 
 
 Mr. Triplet acknowledged that he did. 
 
 " Well, Triplet, part of it was so, and part of it 
 were not so ; all which both is jest as I wants it to 
 be. Triplet, that butter and them biscuit is what 
 saved me. He never expected to eat no more tell 
 he got to Augusty, and I tell you he hung to that 
 butter and them biscuit. While he was at 'em, and 
 Georgy she made 'em late a comin' in a purpose, she 
 takes some old keys which she had picked up, and 
 finds one that could onlock his peleese, whar she seed 
 him put the money, and whar she knowed he kep all 
 he had." 
 
 Uncle Ben intended to laugh mercilessly at Trip- 
 let, but he was stopped by the sight of Mr. Pucket, 
 who did look as if he was trying to swallow some- 
 thing that was too big for his throat. 
 
 "■ Ar anything the matter with you, Mr. Pucket .^ 
 Is you got a cold } Ar your thoat so' t " asked the 
 old gentleman, with undisguised interest. 
 
 Triplet snickered as Mr. Pucket denied being sick. 
 
 Uncle Ben proceeded : — 
 
 "So she jest opened it sly as a mice and tuk out 
 my money " — 
 
 " And what else } " eagerly asked Mr. Pucket. 
 
 " My watch, that the villion beg me to let him take 
 
4IO ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN LIFE. 
 
 with him to have it worked on, which I did n't like 
 no" — 
 
 ** What else ? " asked Mr. Pucket again. 
 
 "That's the last pint I 'm a comin' too, and that's 
 why Georgy sent arter Mr. Spouter. She knowed 
 that he owed Mr. Spouter thirty dollars, and she 
 made up her mind to pay the debt, as now she seed 
 his money, and she tuk out thirty dollars o' his 
 money, which here it ar for you, Mr. Spouter." 
 
 " I garnishee the thirty dollars ! " interposed Mr. 
 Pucket, holding out his hands. 
 
 " You are too late," answered Mr. Spouter, taking' 
 the money, putting it into his pocket, and looking as 
 if he had gotten in again after being outed by Mr. 
 Slack. 
 
 " Can't I garnishee. Triplet 1 " 
 
 " Garnishee for what 'I " 
 
 " For my fee t " 
 
 *' Fee for what ? " 
 
 *' Why, for my services in — ah — coming out here ' 
 on two occasions." 
 
 "Well, you can't garnishee." 
 
 Mr. Triplet looked as if he was ashamed of Mr. 
 Pucket. Uncle Ben hoped there was goin' to be no 
 bad feelins and no difficulties. 
 
 " Certainly not," answered Mr. Triplet. " Mr. 
 Pucket ar a young lawyer, and forgot at the minnit 
 that it war other people that owed him for his ser- 
 vices instid of Mr. Slack. Besides, furthermo, Mr. 
 Pucket ought to know that you can't garnishee jest 
 dry so, without fust gittin' out some sort o' paper 
 from the cote. That would take so much time that 
 Spouter here mout spend his thirty dollars befo he 
 got it ; that is, ef Spouter wanted too." Mr. Triplet 
 looked interrogatively at the other gentleman. 
 
DUKESBOROUGH TALES. 41 1 
 
 "Yes, ef I wanted too," answered Mr. S., oracu- 
 larly. 
 
 " But," persisted Mr. Pucket, " there was other 
 moneys." 
 
 " VVhar .? " asked Mr. Triplet. 
 
 "In Mr. Slack's trunk." 
 
 " No, thay want," answered Mr. Pea, who thought 
 he ought to keep Mr. Pucket to the true word. 
 ** They was in his peleese." 
 
 "Well, in his peleese. That makes no difference," 
 and Mr. Pucket looked as if he thought he had them 
 on that point. 
 
 " Pucket," said Triplet, "it won't make no differ- 
 ence. You are right. It don't make nary bit o' 
 difference with nobody, ner with your fee neither. 
 That fee ar a lost ball. Thay ain't no money here to 
 pay it with, an ef there was it would be Mr. Slack's 
 lawyer, and not you, that would git it. Well, gin it 
 up, and another time try to have better luck." 
 
 Mr. Pucket was a young lawyer, and w^as, in 
 part, owned by Mr. Triplet. So he subsided. Uncle 
 Ben looked troubled, until the sheriff assured him 
 that there could be no difficulties. " Go on, Uncle 
 Ben. You got your gun, of course } " 
 
 "Triplet, you rascal ! You may laugh ; but I 
 don't want the gun. He may keep it, and do what 
 he pleases with it, even to blowin' out his own thiev- 
 ious brains with it, for what I keer. He 's welcome 
 to the gun. You, Triplet ! " 
 
 "Don't mind me, Uncle Ben. Go on." 
 
 " Well, thar 's lots more to tell, ef Georgy would 
 only let me ; and some things as would make you 
 3augh powerful. Triplet, ef you was to hear 'em. 
 But she 's made me swar, actilly swar, that I won't 
 
412 ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN LIFE. 
 
 tell without her leave. Maybe she '11 tell your ole 
 'oman some o' these days. Well, I felt mighty glad 
 when I got my money back, and, ef anything, a 
 leetle gladder when I got back my watch agin. 
 Triplet, when I seed her " (and the old man drew 
 out a watch as big and as round as a turnip), "when 
 I seed her agin, ef I did n't cry you may kill me. 
 I 've had her thirty year, and none o' your new- 
 fangled ones can beat her runnin' when you clean 
 her out and keep her sot right wnth the sun. Ah, 
 well," he continued, putting it back and shaking his 
 foot in mild satisfaction, " the thing is ovxr, and the 
 best of it all ar that " — 
 
 " Hush, Pap," said Georgiana, raising her finger. 
 
 The old man smiled, and hushed. 
 
 After hearing parts of the story over several times, 
 the party rose to go. Mr. Triplet, rising, said that 
 in cose it war not any of his bisiness, but he would 
 like to ax Miss Georgy one question, ef he would n't 
 be considered as meddlin' with what did n't belong 
 to him ; and that was, why she did n't tell on the 
 villion as soon as she found him out. Georgiana 
 answered : — 
 
 " Well, Mr. Triplet, I many times thought I would ; 
 but you see I did n't know for certain that he had 
 done all the things that I was afraid he had. Be- 
 sides, Mr. Triplet, even if he was n't my husband, I 
 one time thought he was, and before God and man 
 I had promised to be faithful to him. And then he 
 had stayed in this house, and eat at our table, and 
 — and called Pap father, and — and — and — Wei-, 
 Mr. Triplet, somehow it did n't look right for me to 
 be the first one to turn against him ; and — and 
 when I did think of telling on him, something would 
 rise up and tell me that I ought not." 
 
DUKESBOROUGH TALES. 413 
 
 "Wimming ain't like men, nohow, Uncle Ben," said 
 Triplet, wiping his eye as he bade him good-by. 
 
 *' No, they ain't. Triplet," and he laid his hand 
 fondly on his daughter's shoulder, while the tears 
 ran down his cheeks. 
 
 The visitors now left, all except Miss Spouter. 
 She wished to get behind the scenes and know more. 
 How much more she learned I cannot say. They 
 went to bed early when the day ended, and to sleep 
 late. There was something which made them easily 
 reunite. It was pity. Miss Spouter imagined that 
 she pitied her friend because she had been deceived 
 by a man, even more than herself had ever been, 
 and because of the hurtful influence which that de 
 ception would probably exert upon any future ex- 
 pectations of marriage. Miss Pea, who, instead of 
 having any regrets, felt relief in the thought that 
 henceforth her father would be satisfied to allow her 
 to manage such matters for herself, and that she 
 should be satisfied to have none to manage, really 
 pitied her friend because she yet yearned for an im- 
 possible estate. When the time came for them to 
 go to sleep (and Georgiana thought it long coming), 
 she did not wait a moment. Miss Spouter lay awake 
 some time further. She pondered long on what she 
 had heard. It was strange. It was almost like a 
 novel. How could George be still the same Georgi- 
 ana Pea .? She had been Mrs. Slack. Was n't she 
 Mrs. Slack now.? And how, oh, how exciting every- 
 thing must have been ! Her thoughts followed Mr. 
 Slack a while ; but he was so far away that they 
 came back, and went looking after Mr. Bill Williams. 
 He was not much, but he was something. He had 
 never exhibited any regard for her yet, but it was 
 
414 ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN LIFE. 
 
 possible that he would some day. He was at least 
 ten years younger than herself. But her curls were 
 the same as ever ; and besides, were not marriages 
 made in heaven } Or were they not a lottery, or some- 
 thing of the sort } Mr. Bill Williams, after all, might 
 be the very one to whom the something in her al- 
 luded when it had so repeatedly told her that she 
 was destined to make some man so happy ; who 
 knows } Then her mind turned again, and, notwith- 
 standing Mr. Slack's great distance ahead, it started 
 forth in the direction he had taken. She dwelt upon 
 his strange conduct and his running away, and al- 
 though it was plain that he had done the like before, 
 and when he had never seen her nor heard of her, 
 yet she half persuaded herself that she was the cause, 
 though the perfectly innocent cause, of it all. *' Yes, 
 yes ! " she was saying to herself, as sleep stole upon 
 her at last, " he is gone ; but the image of Angeline 
 Spouter is in his breast, and it will stay there for- 
 ever ! " 
 
SUT LOVINGOOD. 
 
 " SuT LoviXGOOD " belongs to a class which is but little known 
 even in the South. The gulf between him and Simon Suggs is im- 
 passable. He is no relation to Major Jones, or even to Ransy Snif- 
 fle. His ilk is small, his base of operations limited, and his lingo his 
 own. But he is genuine. In spite of his amazing oddities and his 
 audacious flights of fancv, he was, on his first appearance, recognized 
 
 ^— •'4 
 
 and welcomed as native and to the manner born. 
 
 George W. Harris, to whom " Sut " owes the honor of paternity, 
 was a quiet, rather sombre gentleman, who lived and died in East 
 Tennessee, where he was born and reared. His contributions were 
 originally made to the "Union and American," of Nashville, and 
 thence collected in a volume, issued by Dick & Fitzgerald. His hu- 
 mor is very rough, and often of the coarsest ; but it is full of comic 
 situation, plot, and phrasing. 
 
 One at least of " Sut's " adventures has crossed the Atlantic to do 
 duty in one of the acts of a comedy by Sardou, and not a few of the 
 conceits and oddities, with which his exploits abound, have reap- 
 peared in our domestic dramas. The hero himself, however, has 
 never been attempted on the stage. He is a little too lively and a 
 little too uncouth, perhaps, for presentation in proprid persond. Nev- 
 ertheless, he is vastly funny, and in the hands of an American actor 
 — such, for example, as Mr. Toole is to the comic life of London — 
 would certainly prove effective. 
 
 There is, as will be observed, as little attempt at technical literary 
 finish, either in description or proportion, in " Sut Lovingood " as in 
 the rest of the sketches of which it is an example ; the author seem- 
 ing to aim merely at his point, and, this reached, to be satisfied to 
 leave it to work out its own moral and effect. 
 
 I. 
 
 HOW DADDY PLAYED HOSS. 
 
 " Hole that ar hoss down tu the yeath." " He 's 
 9. fixin' fur the heavings." " He 's a spreadin' his 
 
41 6 ODDITIES IN SOUTHER A- LIFE. 
 
 tail feathers tu fly. Look out, Laigs, if you ain't 
 ready tu go up'ards." "Wo, Shavetail." "Git a 
 fiddil ; he's tryin' a jig." ** Say, Long Laigs, rais'd 
 a power ove co'n, did n't yu } " " 'T ain't co'n, hits 
 redpepper." 
 
 These and like expressions were addressed to a 
 queer-looking, long-legged, short-bodied, small-head- 
 ed, white-haired, hog-eyed, funny sort of a genius, 
 fresh from some bench-legged Jew's clothing store, 
 mounted on " Tearpoke," a nick-tailed, bow-necked, 
 long, poor, pale sorrel horse, half dandy, half devil, 
 and enveloped in a perfect net-work of bridle, reins, 
 crupper, martingales, straps, surcingles, and red fer- 
 reting, who reined up in front of Pat Nash's gro- 
 cery, among a crowd of mountaineers, full of fun, 
 foolery, and whisky. 
 
 This was SuT Lovingood. 
 
 ** I say, you darn'd ash cats, jis keep yer shuts on, 
 will ye ? You never seed a rale boss till I rid up ; 
 you's p'raps stole ur owned shod rabbits ur sheep 
 wif borrerd saddils on, but when you tuck the fus 
 begrudgin' look jis now at this critter, name Tar- 
 poke, yu wer injoyin' a sight ove nex' tu the bes' 
 hoss what ever shell'd nubbins ur toted jugs, an' 
 he 's es ded es a still wum, poor ole Tickytail ! 
 
 " Wo ! wo ! Tarpoke, yu cussed infunel fidgety 
 hide full ove fire, can't yu stan' still an' listen while 
 I'se a polishin' yer karacter off es a mortul hoss tu 
 these yere durned fools ?" 
 
 Sut's tongue or his spurs brought Tearpoke into 
 something like passable quietude, while he con- 
 tinued : — 
 
 ** Say yu, sum ove yu growin' hogs made a re-mark 
 jis now 'bout redpepper. I jis wish tu say in a 
 
SUT LOVINGOOD. 417 
 
 gineral way that eny wurds cupplin' redpepper an 
 Tarpoke tugether am durn'd infurnal lies." 
 
 *' What killed Tickeytail, Sut ? " asked an anxious 
 inquirer after truth. 
 
 " Why, nuffin, you cussed fool ; he jis died so, 
 standin' up et that. War n't that rale casteel hoss 
 pluck } Yu see, he froze stiff ; no, not that adzactly, 
 but starv'd fust, an' froze arterards, so stiff that when 
 dad an' me went tu lay him out, an' we push'd him 
 over, he stuck out jis " so " (spreading his arms and 
 legs), belike ontu a carpenter's bainch, an' we hed tu 
 wait ni ontu seventeen days fur 'im tu thaw afore 
 we cud skin 'im." 
 
 " Skin 'im 1 " interrupted a rat-faced youth, whit- 
 tling on a corn-stalk. '■' I thot yu wanted tu lay the 
 hoss out." 
 
 *' The , yu did ! Ain't skinin' the natral way 
 
 OA^e layin' out a hoss, I 'd like tu no } See a yere, 
 soney, yu tell yer mam tu hev yu sot back jis 'bout 
 two years, fur et the rate yu'se a climbin' yu Stan's 
 a pow'ful chance tu die wif yer shoes on, an' git laid 
 hoss way, yu dus." 
 
 The rat-faced youth shut up his knife and sub- 
 sided. 
 
 " Well, thar we wer — dad, an' me " (counting on 
 his fingers), "an Sail, an' Jake (fool Jake we calls 'im, 
 fur short), an' Jim, an' Phineass, an' Callimy Jane, 
 an' Sharlottyann, an' me, an' Zodiack, an' Cashus 
 Clay, an' Noah Webster, an' the twin gals (Castur 
 and Pollox), an' me, an' Catherin Second, an' Cleo- 
 patry Antony, an' Jane Barnum Lind, an' me, an' 
 Benton Bullion, an' the baby what hain't nam'd yet, 
 an' me, an' the Prospect, an' mam hersef — all lef in 
 the woods alone, wifout ara hoss tu crup wif." 
 
 27 
 
41 8 ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN LIFE. 
 
 " Yu'se counted yersef five times, Mister Lovin- 
 good," said a tomato-nosed man in ragged over- 
 coat. 
 
 ** Yas, ole Still-tub, that 's jis the perporshun I 
 bears in the famerly fur dam fool, leavin' out Dad, in 
 course. Yu jis let me alone, an' be a thinkin' ove 
 gittin' more hoops ontu yu. Yus leakin' now ; see 
 thar." Ha ! ha ! from the crowd, and " Still-tub " 
 went into the doggery. 
 
 " Warn't that a devil's own mess ove broth fur a 
 'spectabil white famerly tu be sloshin' about in } I 
 durned ef I did n't feel sorter like stealin' a boss 
 sumtimes, an' I speck I 'd a dun hit, but the stealin' 
 streak in the Lovingoods all run tu durned fool, an' 
 the onvartus streak all run tu laigs. Jis look down 
 the side ove this yere boss mos' tu the groun'. Dus 
 yu see em } 
 
 " Well, we waited, an' wished, an' rested, an' 
 plan'd, an' wished, an' waited agin, ontil ni ontu 
 strawberry time, hopin' sum stray boss mout cum 
 along ; but dorg my cats, ef eny sich good luck ever 
 cums wifin reach ove whar dad is, he's so dod-dratted 
 mean, an' lazy, an' ugly, an' savidge, an' durn fool 
 tu kill. 
 
 " Well, one nite he lay awake till cock-crowin 
 a-snortin', an' rollin', an' blowin', an' shufflin', an 
 scratchin' hissef, an' a whisperin' at mam a heap, an 
 at breckfus' I foun' out what hit ment. Says he 
 * Sut, I '11 tell yu what we '11 du : I '11 be boss mysef, 
 an' pull the plow whilst yu drives me, an' then th"- 
 •*01e Quilt" (he ment that fur mam) an' the brats 
 kin plant, an' tend, ur jis let hit alone, es they darn 
 pleze ; I ain't a carein'.' 
 
 " So out we went tu the pawpaw thicket, an' peel'd 
 
SUT LOVING 00 D. 419 
 
 a rite smart chance ove bark, an' mam an* me made 
 geers fur dad, while he sot on the fence a-lookin' at 
 us, an' a studyin' pow'rful. I arterards foun' out, he 
 wer a-studyin' how tu play the kar-acter ove a hoss 
 puffectly. 
 
 " Well, the geers becum him mitily, an' nuffin wud 
 du *im but he mus hev a bridil ; so I gits a umereller 
 brace — hit 's a litil forked piece ove squar wire bout 
 a foot long, like a yang pitch-fork, yu no — an' 
 twisted hit sorter intu a bridil bit snaffil shape. 
 Dad wanted hit made kurb, es he hed n't work'd fur 
 a good while, an' said he mout sorter feel his keepin' 
 an' go tu ravin' an' cavortin'. 
 
 " When we got the bridil fix'd ontu dad, don't yu 
 bleve he sot in tu chompin hit jis like a rale hoss, 
 an' tried tu bite me on the arm (he allers wer a mos' 
 complikated durned ole fool, an' mam sed so when 
 he warnt about). I put on the geers, an' while mam 
 wer a-tyin' the belly-ban', a-strainin' hit pow'rful tite, 
 he drapt ontu his bans, sed ' Whay-a-a' like a mad 
 hoss wud. I shoulder'd the gopher plow, an' tuck 
 hole ove the bridil. Dad leaned back sulky, till I 
 sed cluck cluck wif my tounge, then he started. 
 When we cum tu the fence I let down the gap, an' 
 hit made dad mad ; he wanted tu jump hit on all 
 fours, hoss way. Oh, geminy ! what a durn'd ole 
 fool kin cum tu ef he gins up tu the complaint. 
 
 " I hitch'd 'im tu the gopher, a-watchin' him pow'- 
 ful clost, fur I 'd see how quick he cud drap ontu his 
 bans, an' kick, an' away we went, dad leanin' forard 
 tu his pullin', an' we made rite peart plowin' fur tu 
 hev a green hoss, an' bark gears ; he went over the 
 sprowts an* bushes same as a rale hoss, only he trav- 
 eled on two laigs. I mitily hope up bout co'n ; I 
 
420 ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN LIFE. 
 
 cud a'mos' see hit a cumin' up ; but thar 's a heap 
 ove whisky spilt tvvixt the counter an' the mouf, ef 
 hit ain't got "but two foot tu travih 'Bout the time 
 he wer beginin' tu break sweat, we cum tu a sassa- 
 frack bush, an' tu keep up his kar-acter es a boss he 
 buljed squar intu an' thru hit, tarin' down a ball 
 ho'nets nes' ni ontu es big es a boss's bed, an' the 
 hole tribe kiver'd 'im es quick es yu cud kiver a 
 sick pup wif a saddil blanket. He lit ontu his bans 
 agin, an' kick'd strait up onst, then he rar'd, an' 
 fotch a squeal wus nur ara stud boss in the State, 
 an' sot in tu strait runnin' away jis es natral es yu 
 ever seed any uther skeer'd boss du. I let go the 
 line an' holler'd, Wo ! dad, wo ! but yu mout jis es 
 well say Woa ! tu a locomotum, ur Suke cow tu a 
 gal. 
 
 " Gewhillitins ! how he run ! When he cum tu 
 bushes, he 'd clar the top ove em wif a squeal, gopher 
 an' all. P'raps he tho't thar mout be anuther set- 
 tilment ove ball ho'nets thar, an' hit wer safer tu go 
 over than thru, an' quicker dun eny how. Every 
 now an' then he 'd fan the side ove his bed, fust wif 
 wun fore laig an' then tuther ; then he 'd gin hissef 
 a roun-handed slap what soundid like a waggin' 
 whip ontu the place whar the breechbands tetches 
 a boss, a-runnin' all the time, an' a-kerrin' that ar 
 gopher jis 'bout as fas' an es hi frum theyeath es ever 
 eny gopher wer kerried, I '11 swar. When he cum tu 
 the fence, he jis tore thru hit, bustin' an' scatterin* 
 ni ontu seven panils wif lots ove broken rails. Rite 
 yere he lef the gopher, geers, close, clevis, an' 
 swingltress, all mix'd up, an' not wuf a durn. The 
 balance on em, ni ontu a gallun, kep' on wif dad. 
 He seem'd tu run jis adzactly es las' es a ho'net cud 
 
SUT LOVINGOOD, 42 1 
 
 fly ; hit wer the titest race I ever seed, fur wun hoss 
 tu git all the whipin'. Down thru a saige field they 
 all went, the ho'nets makin' hit look like thar wer 
 smoke roun' dad's bald hed, an' he wif nuffin on the 
 green yeath in the way ove close bout ima, but the 
 bridil, an' ni ontu a yard ove plow line sailin' be- 
 hine, wif a tir'd out ho'net ridin' on the pint ove hit. 
 I seed that he wer aimin* fur the swimin' hole in the 
 krick, whar the bluff am over-twenty five foot pupen- 
 diculer tu the warter, an' hits ni ontu ten foot deep. 
 
 "Well, tu keep up his karacter es a hoss, plum 
 thru, when he got tu the bluff he loped off, ur rather 
 jis kep on a runnin'. Kerslunge intu the krick he 
 went. I seed the warter fly plum abuv the bluff 
 from whar I wer. 
 
 " Now rite thar, boys, he over-did the thing, e£ 
 actin' hoss tu the scribe wer what he wer arter ; 
 fur thars nara hoss ever foaldid durned fool enuf tu 
 lope over eny sich place ; a cussed muel mout a dun 
 hit, but dad warn't actin' muel, tho' he orter tuck 
 that karacter ; hits adzactly sooted tu his dispersi- 
 tion. I crept up tu the aidge, an' peep'd over. Thar 
 wer dad's bald hed, fur all the yeath like a peeled 
 inyin, a bobbin' up an' down an' aroun', an' the 
 ho'nets sailin' roun' tuckey buzzard fashun, an' 
 every onst in a while one, an' sumtimes ten, wud 
 take a dip at dad's bald head. He kep' up a rite 
 peart dodgin' onder, sumtimes afore they hit im, 
 an' sumtimes arterard, an the warter wer kivered 
 wif drownded ball ho'nets. Tu look at hit frum 
 the top ove the bluff, hit wer pow'ful inturestin', 
 an' sorter funny ; I wer on the bluff myse'f, mine 
 yu. 
 
 " Dad cudent see the funny part frum whar he 
 
422 ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN LIFE. 
 
 war, but hit seem'd tu be inturestin' tu him frurn 
 the 'tenshun he wer payin' tu the bisness ove div- 
 in' an' cussin'. 
 
 " Sez I, * Dad, ef yu's dun washin' yersef, he hes 
 drunk enuff, less go back tu our plovvin', hit will 
 soon be powerful hot.' * Hot — hell!' sez dad; 
 'hit am hot rite now. Don't (an onder went his 
 hed) yer see (dip) these cussed (dip) infun — (dip) 
 varmints arter me.?' (dip.) 'What,' sez I, ' them 
 ar boss flies thar, that 's nat'ral, dad ; you ain't 
 raley fear'd ove them is yu .'' ' ' Hoss flies ! h — I an 
 (dip) durnation ! ' sez dad, ' theyse rale ginni — 
 (dip) ball ho'nets, (dip) yu infunel ignurant cuss!' 
 (dip.) * Kick em — paw em — switch em w4f' yure 
 tail, dad,' sez I. ' Oh ! soney, soney, (dip) how I '11 
 sweeten yure — ■ (dip) when these (dip) ho'nets leave 
 yere.' ' Yu'd better du the levin' yursef dad,' sez I. 
 •Leave yere I How (dip) kin I, (dip) when they won't 
 (dip) let me stay (dip) atop (dip) the warter even.' 
 
 * Well, dad, yu'l hev tu stay thar till nite, an' arter 
 they goes tu roos' yu cum home. I '11 hev yer feed 
 in the troft redy ; yu won't need eny curyin' tu-nite 
 will yu }' 'I wish (dip) I may never (dip) see to- 
 morrer, ef I (dip) don't make (dip) hame strings (dip) 
 outer yure hide (dip) when I dus (dip) git outen 
 yere,' sez dad. 'Better say yu wish yu may never 
 see anuther ball ho'net, ef yu ever play hoss agin', 
 sez I. 
 
 "Them words toch dad tu the hart, an' I felt they 
 mus' be my las, knowin' dad 's onmollified nater. I 
 broke frum them parts, an' sorter cum over yere 
 tu the copper mines. When I got tu the hous', 
 
 * Whar 's yer dad "i ' sez mam. ' Oh, he turn'd durn 
 fool, an' run away, busted every thing all tu cussed 
 
SUT LOVINGOOD. 423 
 
 smash, an 's in the swimin' hole a divin' arter min- 
 ners. Look out mam, he '11 cum home wif a angel's 
 temper ; better sen' fur sum strong man body tu 
 keep him frum huggin' yu tu deth." ' Law sakes ! ' 
 sez mamx ; ' I know'd he cudent act boss fur ten 
 minutes wifout actin' infunel fool, tu save his life.' 
 
 "I staid hid out ontil nex' arternoon, an' I seed a 
 feller a-travelin'. Sez I, ' How de do, mister ? What 
 wer agwine on at the cabin, this side the crick, 
 when yu pass'd thar ? ' ' Oh, nuthin' much, only a 
 pow'ful fat man wer a lyin' in the yard wif no shut 
 on, an' a 'oman wer a greasin' ove his shoulders an' 
 arms outen a gourd. A pow'ful curious, vishus, 
 skeery lookin' cuss he is tu b' shure. His head am 
 as big es a wash pot, an' he hasent the fust durned 
 sign ove an eye — jist two black slits. Is thar 
 much small pox roun' yere ? ' 'Small pox!' sez I, 
 'no sir.' 'Been much fightin' in this neighbor- 
 hood lately } ' ' Nun wuf speakin' ove,' sez I. He 
 scratched his head — ' Nur French measils } ' ' Not 
 jis clost,' sez L 'Well, do yu know what ails that 
 m.an back thar } ' * Jist gittin' over a vilent attack 
 ove dam fool,' sez I. ' Well, who is he env how t ' 
 I ris tu my feet, an' straiched out my arm, an' sez I, 
 *Strainger, that man is my dad.' He looked at my 
 laigs an' pussonel feeters a moment, an' sez he. 
 ' Yas, dam ef he aint.* 
 
 " Now boys, I haint seed dad since, an' I dusent 
 hev much appertite tu see im fur sum time tu cum. 
 Less all drink ! Yere 's luck tu the durned old fool, 
 in' the ho'nets too." 
 
424 ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN LIFE. 
 
 II. 
 
 THE " BILED SHUT." 
 
 I metSut, one morning, weaving along in his usual 
 rambling uncertain gait. His appearance satisfied 
 me at once that something was wrong. He had 
 been sick — whipped in a free fight, or was just 
 getting on his legs again, from a "big drunk." 
 
 But upon this point I was soon enlightened. 
 
 " Why, Sut, what 's wrong now 1 you look sick." 
 
 *' Heaps wrong, durn my skin — no my haslets 
 — ef I haint mos' ded, an' my looks don't lie when 
 they hints that I'se sick. I is sick — I'se skin'd." 
 
 " Who skinned you — old Bullen.'* " 
 
 " No, boss, a durnder fool nor Bullen did hit ; I 
 jis skin'd mysef." 
 
 " What in the name of common sense did you do 
 it for .? " 
 
 " Did n't du hit in the name ove common sense ; 
 did hit in the name, an' wif the sperit, ove plum 
 natral born durn fool. 
 
 "Lite ofen that ar boss, an' take a ho'n ; I wants 
 two ove 'em (shaking his constant companion, a 
 whiskey flask, at me), an' plant yersef ontu that ar 
 log, an' I '11 tell ef I kin, but hit 's a'mos' beyant 
 tellin'. 
 
 " I'se a durnder fool nor enybody outside a As- 
 salum, ur Kongriss, 'sceptin' ove my own dad, fur 
 he actid boss, an' I haint tried that yet. I'se allcrs 
 intu sum trap what wud n't ketch a saidge-field 
 sheep. I '11 drownd mysef sum day, jis see ef I 
 don't. I spects that wud stop the famerly dispersi- 
 tion tu act durn fool, so fur es Sut 's consarn'd." 
 
SUT LOVINGOOD. 425 
 
 " Well, how is it, Sut ; have you been beat play- 
 ing cards or drinking ? " 
 
 "Narawun, by geminy ! them jobs can't be did in 
 these yere parts, es enybody no's on, but seein' hits 
 yu I '11 tell hit. I'se sick-sham'd-sorry-sore-an'-mad 
 tu kill, I is. Yu no I boards wif Bill Carr, at his 
 cabin ontu the mountin', an' pays fur sich es I gits 
 when I hes munny, an' when I hesent eny, why he 
 takes wun third outer me in holesum hot cussin ; 
 an' she, that 's his wife Betts, takes tuther three 
 thirds out wif the battlin' stick, an' the intrus' wif 
 her sharp tongue, an' she takes more intrus' nur 
 principal. She 's the cussedes' 'oman I ever seed 
 eny how, fur jaw, breedin', an' pride. She kin 
 scold a blister rite plum ontu a bull's curl in two 
 minits. She patterns arter all new fangl'd fashuns 
 she hears tell on frum bussils tu britches. Oh ! 
 she 's wun ove 'em, an' sumtimes she 's two ur three, 
 she is. 
 
 "Well, yu see I 'd got hole on sum homade cottin 
 cloff, fur a shirt, an' coax'd Betts tu make hit, an 
 'bout the time hit wer dun, yere cum a cussed stuck 
 up lawyer, name Jonsin, an' ax'd fur brekfus' — rite 
 yere I wishes the bread had been asnick, an' the 
 meat strikenine, an' that he 'd a staid an' tuck dinner 
 too, fur he hes ni ontu fotch about my aind, durn 
 his sashararer mitimurs ole soul tu thunder ! 
 
 " I wonder hit did n't work 'im pow'ful es hit 
 wer ; fur Betts cooks up sum tarifyin' mixtrys ove 
 vittils, when she tries hersef. I'se pizen proof my- 
 sef ; fur thuty dullars, I jis let a sluice ove aquafotis 
 run thru me fur ha'f a day, an' then live tu spen' 
 the las' durn cent, fur churnbrain whiskey ; ef I 
 warnt (holding up his flask and peeping through it), 
 I 'd dun been ded long ago. 
 
426 ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN LIFE. 
 
 " Well, while he wer eatin', she spied out that his 
 shut wer mons'ous stiff, an' es slick es glass, so she 
 never rested ontill she wurmed hit outen 'im that hit 
 wer dun wif a flour preparashun. She went wif 'im 
 a piece ove the way down the mountin', tu git the 
 purticulers, an' when she cum back she sed she had 
 V;;/. I thot she had mysef. 
 
 " She imejuntly sot in, an' biled a big pot ove 
 paste, ni ontu a peck ove hit, an' tole me I wer 
 gwine tu hev * the gonest purty shut in that range. 
 Well, she wer sorter rite, fur when I las' seed hit hit 
 wer purty — yas orful purty, tu a rat, ur a buzzard, 
 ur eny uther varmint fon ove dirty, skary lookin* 
 things ; but frum the time I staid inside ove hit, I 
 can't say that es a human shut I 'd gin a durn fur a 
 dozin ove 'em. * Gonest purty shut ' — the cussed 
 ole hen jay bird, I jis wish she bed tu war it wif 
 a redpepper linin' on till she gits a-pas' hatchin 
 an' that wud be ni ontu eleving year, ef she tells the 
 truff. 
 
 " She soused my shut intu the pot, an' soaked hit 
 thar, ontil hit tuck up mos' ove the paste ; then she 
 tuck hit an' iron'd hit out flat, an' dry, an' sot hit 
 on hits aidge agin the cabin in the sun. Thar hit 
 stood, like a dry boss hide, an' hit rattiled hke ontu 
 a sheet ove iron, hit did, pasted tugether all over — 
 * gonest purty shut ! ' — durn'd huzzy ! 
 
 **When I cum tu dinner, nuffin wud du Betts, but 
 I mus' put myse'f inside hit rite thar. She partid 
 the tails a littil piece wif a case nife, an' arter I got 
 my bed started up intu hit, she 'd pull down, fus' at 
 wun tail, an' then tuther, ontil I wer farly inside ove 
 hit, an' button'd in. Durn the everlastin', infunel, 
 new fangled sheet iron cuss ove a shut ! I say. I 
 
SUT LOVINGOOD. 427 
 
 felt like I 'd crowded intu a ole bee-gum, an' hit all 
 full ove pissants ; but hit wer a ' born'd twin ove 
 Lawyer Jonsin's,' Betts sed, an' I felt like standin' 
 es much pussonal discumfurt es he cud, jis tu git tu 
 sampil arter sumbody human. I did n't know, tu, 
 but what hit hed the vartu ove makin' a lawyer 
 outen me agin hit got limber. 
 
 " I sot in tu bildin' ove a ash-hopper fur Betts, an' 
 work'd pow'ful hard, sweat like a boss, an' then the 
 shut quit hits hurtin', an' tuck tu feelin' slippery. 
 Thinks I, that 's sorter lawyer like enyhow, an' I 
 wer hope up bout the shut, an' what mout cum outen 
 nit. 
 
 " Arter I got dun work, I tuck me a four finger 
 dost ove bumble-bee whiskey, went up intu the lof 
 an' fell asleep a-thinkin' bout bein' a rale sashararer 
 lawyer, boss, saddil bags, an' books ; an' Betts went 
 over the top tu see her mam. 
 
 " Well, arter a while I waked up ; I 'd jis been 
 dreamin' that the judge ove the supreme cort had 
 me sowed up in a raw hide, an' sot up agin a hot 
 pottery kill tu dry, an' the dryin' woke me. 
 
 ** I now thort I wer ded, an' hed died ove rhuma- 
 ticks ove the hurtines' kind. All the jints I cud 
 muve wer my ankils, knees, an' wrists ; cud n't even 
 move my hed, an' scarsely wink my eyes ; the cussed 
 shut wer pasted fas' ontu me all over, frum the ainds 
 ove the tails tu the pints ove the broad-axe collar 
 over my years. Hit sot tu me es clost es a poor 
 cow dus tu her hide sin March. I worm'd an* 
 strain'd an' cuss'd an' grunted, till I got hit sorter 
 broke at the shoulders an' elbows, an' then I dun 
 the durndes' fool thing ever did in these yere moun- 
 tins. I shuffl'd an' tore my britches off, an' skin'd 
 
428 ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN LIFE. 
 
 loose frum my hide bout two inches ove the tail all 
 roun in orful pain, an quick-stigin' trebulashun. Oh ! 
 great golly grampus, how it hurt ! Then I tuck up 
 a plank outen the lof. an' hung my laigs down thru 
 the hole, sot in, an' nail'd the aidge ove the frunt 
 tail tu the floor afore me, an' the hine tail I nail'd 
 tu the plank what I sot on. I flung the hammer 
 outen my reach, tu keep my hart frum failin' me, 
 onbutton'd the collar an' risbans, raised my bans 
 way abuv my bed, shot up my eyes, sed a short 
 grace, an' jump'd thru tu the groun' floor, jis thuteen 
 foot wun inch clear ove jists." 
 
 Here Sut remarked, sadly shaking his head, 
 *' George, I'se a durnder fool nor dad, boss, bo'nets, 
 an' gopher. I '11 bev tu drow^n'd mysef sum ove 
 these days, see ef I don't." 
 
 " Well, go on, Sut ; did the shirt come off } " 
 
 "I — t-b-i-n-k — h-i-t — d-id. 
 
 '* I beam a nise like tarin a shingle ruff ofen a 
 hous' at wun rake, an' felt like my bones wer all 
 what lef the shut, an' reach'd the floor. I stagger'd 
 tu my feet, an' tuck a moanful look up at my shut. 
 The nails bed hilt thar holt, an' so bed the tail hem ; 
 thar hit wer hangin' arms down, inside out, an' jis 
 es stiff es ever. Hit look'd like a map ove Mexico, 
 arter one ove the wurst battils. A patch ove my 
 skin 'bout the size ove a dullar, ur a dullar an' a 'alf 
 bill yere, a bunch ove bar bout like a bird's nes' 
 thar, then sum more skin, then sum paste, then a 
 littil more bar, then a heap ove skin — bar an' skin 
 straight along all over that newfangl'd everlastin', 
 infunel pasted cuss ove a durnd shut ! Hit wer a 
 picter tu look at, an' so wer I. 
 
 " The hide, bar, an' paste wer about ekally devided 
 
SUT LOVINGOOD. 429 
 
 atwix me an' hit. George, listen tu me : hit looked 
 adzactly like the skin ove sum wile beas' tore off 
 alive, ur a bag what hed toted a laig ove fresh beef 
 frum a shootin' match. 
 
 '* Bill cum home wif Betts, an' wer the fust inter 
 the cabin. He backed outen hit agin, an' sez he, 
 * Marcyful payrint ! thar 's been murderin' dun yere ; 
 hits been ole Bullen ; he 's skinn'd Sut, an' thars his 
 hide hung up tu dry.' Betts walked roun' hit, a 
 zaminin' hit, till at las' she venter'd clost, an' know'd 
 her sowin'. 
 
 " Sez she, * Yu dad dratted ole pot-head, that 's 
 his Sunday shut. Hes hed a drefful fite, tho', wif 
 sumbody ; did lit they go fur his har ofen } ' ' An 
 rine in 'bundance,' sed Bill. * Yas boss,' sed Betts 
 agine, ' an' ef I 'd been him, / \i a shed hit. I wud n't 
 a fit es nasty a fite es that wer, in my fines' shut, 
 wud yu. Bill } ' 
 
 " Now, George, I 's boun tu put up Jonsin's meat 
 fur im on site, wifout regardin' good killin' weather, 
 an' ef ever a 'oman flattins out a shut fur me agin, 
 durn my everlastin' picter ef I don't flattin her out 
 es thin es a step-chile's bread an' butter. I '11 du 
 hit ef hit takes me a week. 
 
 " Hits a retribushun, sartin, the biggest kine ove 
 a preacher's regular retribushun, what am tu be 
 foun' in the Holy Book. 
 
 " Dus yu mine my racin' dad, wif sum ho'nets, an' 
 so forth, intu the krick .'' 
 
 " Well, this am what cums ove hit. I '11 drownd 
 mysef, see ef I don't, that is ef I don't die frum that 
 hellfired shut. Now, George, ef a red-heded 'oman 
 wif a reel foot axes yu tu marry her, yu 7naj/ du hit ; 
 ef an 'oman wants yu tu kill her husbun, yu majy do 
 
430 ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN LIFE. 
 
 hit ; ef a gal axes yu tu rob the bank, an' take her 
 tu Californy, yu may du hit ; ef wun on em wants 
 yu tu quit whiskey, yu vioiit even du that. But ef 
 ever an 'oman, ole ur yung, purty es a sunflower ur 
 ugly es a skin'd boss, offers yu a shut aninted wif 
 paste tu put on, jis yu kill her in her tracks, an' 
 burn the cussed pisnus shut rite thar. Take a 
 ho'n ? " 
 
 III. 
 
 PARSON BULLEN'S LIZARDS. 
 AIT ($8) DULLARS REW-ARD. 
 
 'TENSHUN BELEVERS and KONSTABLES ! KETCH 'iM ! KETCH 'iM ! 
 
 This kash wil be pade in korn, ur uther projuce, 
 tu be kolected at ur about nex camp-meetin', iir thar- 
 arter, by^eny wun what ketches him, fur the karkus 
 ove a sartin wun Sut Lovingood, dead ur alive, ur 
 ailin', an' safely giv over tu the purtectin' care ove 
 Parson John Bullin, ur lef well tied at Squire Mack- 
 junkins, fur the raisin' ove the devil pussonely, an' 
 permiskusly discumfurtin' the wimen very powerful, 
 an' skeerin' ove folks generly a heap, an' bustin' up a 
 promisin', big warm meetin', an' a makin' the wickid 
 larf, an' wus, an' vvus, insultin' ove the passun orful. 
 
 Test, Jehu Wethero. 
 
 Sined by me, 
 
 John Bullen, the passun. 
 
 I found written copies of the above highly intelli- 
 gible and vindictive proclamation stuck up on every 
 blacksmith shop, doggery, and store door in the 
 Frog Mountain Range. Its bloodthirsty spirit, its 
 
SUT LOVINGOOD. 43 1 
 
 Style, and, above all, its chirography interested me 
 to the extent of taking one down from a tree for 
 preservation. 
 
 In a few days I found Sut in a good crowd in 
 front of Capehart's Doggery, and as he seemed to 
 be about in good tune I read it to him. 
 
 " Yas, George, that ar dockymint am in dead 
 yearnist, sartin. Them hard shells over thar dus 
 want me the wus kine, powerful bad. But, I spect 
 ait dullers won't fetch me, nither wud ait hundred, 
 bekase thar 's nun ove 'em fas' enuf tu ketch me, 
 nither is thar bosses, by the livin' jingo ! Say, 
 George, much talk 'bout this fuss up whar yu 're 
 been ? " For the sake of a joke I said yes, a great 
 deal. 
 
 •'Jis es I 'spected, durn 'em, all git drunk, an' 
 skeer thar fool sefs ni ontu deth, an' then lay hit 
 ontu me, a poor innersent youf, an' es soun' a be- 
 lever es they is. Lite, lite, ole feller, an^ let that 
 roan ove yourn blow a litil, an' I '11 'splain this 
 cussed misfortnit affar : hit hes ruinated my karac- 
 ter es a pins pusson in the s'ciety roun' yere, an' is 
 a spreadin' faster nur meazils. When ever yu hear 
 eny on 'em a spreadin' hit, gin hit the dam lie squar, 
 will yu } I hain't dun nuffin tu one ove 'em. Hits 
 true, I did sorter frustrate a few lizzards a littil, but 
 they hain't members, es I knows on. 
 
 " You see, las' year I went tu the big meetin', at 
 Rattlesnake Springs, an' wer a sittin' in a nice shady 
 place convarsin' wif a frien' ove mine, jis duin' nufifin 
 tu nobody an' makin' no fuss, when, the fust thing I 
 remembers, I woke up frum a trance what I bed 
 been knocked inter by a four-year old hickory-stick, 
 hilt in the paw ove ole Passun BuUin, durn his alii- 
 
432 ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN LIFE. 
 
 gater hide ; an' he wer standin' a striddil ove me, a 
 foamin' at the mouf, a-chompin' his teeth, gesterin, 
 vvif the hickory club, an' a-preachin' tu me so you 
 cud a-hearn him a mile, about a sartin sins gineraly, 
 an' my wickedness pussonely, an' mensunin' the 
 name ove my frien' loud enuf tu be hearn tu the 
 meetin' 'ous. My poor innersent frien' wer dun 
 gone, an' I were glad ove hit, fur I tho't he ment tu 
 kill me rite whar I lay, an' I did n't want her tu see 
 me die." 
 
 " Who was she, the friend you speak of, Sut ? " 
 Sut opened his eyes wide. 
 
 " Hu the devil an' durnashun tole yti that hit wer 
 a she } " 
 
 " Why, you did, Sut " — 
 
 *' I did lit, durn ef I did. Ole Bullin dun hit, an* 
 I '11 hev tu kill him 3^et, the cussed, infernel ole tale- 
 barer ! " — 
 
 " Well, well, Sut, who was she .^ " 
 
 " Nun ove y-u-r-e b-i-s-n-i-s-s, durn yure littil ank- 
 shus picter ! He 'd a heap better a stole sum man s 
 hoss ; I 'd a tho't more ove 'im. But I paid him 
 plum up fur hit, an' I means tu keep a payin' him, 
 ontil one ur tuther ove our toes pints up tu the 
 roots ove the grass. 
 
 " Well, yere 's the way I lifted that note ove han'. 
 At the nex big meetin' at Rattilsnaik — las' week 
 hit wer — I wer on han,' es solemn es a ole hat kiv- 
 ver on collection day. I hed my face draw'd out 
 intu the shape an' perporshun ove a taylwer's sleeve- 
 board, pint down. I hed put on the convicted sin- 
 ner so pufeckly that an' ole obsarvin' she pillar ove 
 the church sed tu a ole he pillar, es I walked up tu 
 my bainch : — 
 
SUT LOVINGOOD. 433 
 
 " ' Law sakes alive, ef thar ain't that orftil sinner, 
 Sut Lovingood, pearced plum thru ; hu 's nex ? ' 
 
 " Yu see, by golly, George, I hed tu promis the ole 
 tub ove soap-greas tu cum an' hev myself convarted, 
 jis tu keep him frum killin' me. An' es I know'd 
 hit wud n't interfare wif the relashun I bore tu the 
 still housis roun' thar, I did n't keer a durn. I jis 
 wanted tu git ni ole Bullin, onst onsuspected, an' 
 this wer the bes' way tu du hit. I tuk a seat on the 
 side steps ove the pulpit, an' kivvered es much ove 
 my straitch'd face es I could wif my ban's, tu prove 
 I were in yearnis. Hit tuk powerful, fur I hearn 
 a sorter thankful kine ove buzzin' all over the con- 
 gregashun. Ole Bullin hissef looked down at me, 
 over his ole copper specks, an' hit sed jis es plain 
 as a look cud say hit, * Yu am thar, ar you ; durn 
 yu, hits well fur yu that yu cum.' I tho't sorter dif- 
 frent frum that. I tho't hit wud a been well fur ytCy 
 ef I hadent a-cum, but I did n't say hit jis then. Thar 
 wer a monstrus crowd in that grove, fur the weather 
 wer fine, an' b'levers wer plenty roun' about Rattil- 
 snaik Springs. Ole Bullin gin out, an' they sung 
 that hyme, yu know : — 
 
 " ' Thar will be mournin', moumin' yere, an' mournin' thar, 
 On that dredful day tu cum.' 
 
 " Thinks I, Ole boss, kin hit be possibil enybody 
 hes tole yu what 's a gwine tu happin } an' then I 
 tho't that nobody know'd hit but me, and I wer cum- 
 forted. He nex tuck hisself a tex pow'fly mixed wif 
 brimstone, an' trim'd wif blue flames, an' then he 
 open'd. He cummenced ontu the sinners ; he threat- 
 en'd 'em orful, tried tu skeer 'em wif all the wust 
 varmints he cud think ove, an' arter a while he got 
 ontu the idear ove Hell-sarpints, and he dwelt on it 
 
 28 
 
434 ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN LIFE. 
 
 sum. He tole 'em how the ole Hell-sarpints wud 
 sarve em if they did n't repent ; how cold they 'd 
 crawl over thar nakid bodys, an' how Hke ontu pitch 
 they 'd stick tu 'em es they crawled ; how they 'd rap 
 thar tails roun' thar naiks, chokin' clost, poke thar 
 tungs up thar noses, an' hiss intu thar years. He 
 kep on a bellerin, but I got so buisy jis then that 
 I didn't listen tu him much, fur I saw that my time 
 fur ackshun hed cum. Now yu see, George, I 'd 
 cotch seven ur eight big pot-bellied lizzards, an' hed 
 'em in a Uttil narrer bag, what I had made a-purpus ; 
 thar tails all at the bottim, an' so crowdid fur room 
 that they cudent turn roun'. So when he wer a- 
 ravin' ontu his tip-toes, an' a-poundin' the pulpit wif 
 his fis', onbenowenst tu enybody, I ontied my bag 
 eve reptiles, put the mouf ove hit onder the bottim 
 ove his britches-laig. an' sot intu pinchin' thar tails. 
 Quick es gunpowder they all tuck up his bar laig, 
 makin' a nise like squirrils a-climbin' a shell-bark 
 hickory. He stop't preachin' rite in the middil ove 
 the word * damnation,' an' looked fur a moment like 
 he wer a listenin' fur sumthin — sorter like a ole sow 
 dus, when she hears yu a-whistlin' fur the dorgs. 
 The tarifick shape ove his feeters stopp't the shoutin' 
 an' screamin' ; instuntly yu cud hearn a cricket 
 chirp. I gin a long groan, an' hilt my head a-twixt 
 my knees. He gin hisself sum orful open-handed 
 slaps wif fust one han' an' then tuther, about the 
 place whar yu cut the bes' steak outen a beef. Then 
 he 'd fetch a vigrus ruff rub whar a bosses tail 
 sprouts ; then he 'd stomp one foot, then tuther, 
 then bof at oust. Then he run his han' atween his 
 waisbun an' his shut, an' reach'd way down an' roun' 
 wif hit ; then he spread his big laigs, an' gin his 
 
" The tarifick shape ove his feeters." See page 434. 
 
SUT LOVINGOOD. 435 
 
 back a good rattlin' rub agin the pulpit, like a hog 
 scratches hisself agin a stump, leanin' tu hit pow'ful, 
 an' twitchin', an' squirmin' all over, es ef he 'd slept 
 in a dorg bed, ur ontu a pisant hill. About this 
 time, one ove my lizzards, scared an' hurt by all this 
 poundin' an' feelin' an' scratchin', popp'd out his 
 head frum the passun's shut collar an' his ole brown 
 naik, an' wer a-surveyin' the crowd, when ole Bullin 
 struck at 'im, jis too late, fur he 'd dodged back agin. 
 The hell-desarvin ole raskil's speech now cum tu 'im, 
 an' sez he, ' Pray fur me, brethren an' sisteren, fur I 
 is a-rastilin wif the great inimy rite now ! ' an' his 
 voice wer the mos' pitiful, trimblin thing I ever 
 hearn. Sum ove the wimmen fotch a painter yell, 
 an' a young docter, wif ram.rod laigs. lean'd toward 
 me monstrus knowin' like, an' sez he, ' Clar case ove 
 Delishus Tremenjus.' I nodded my head, an' sez I, 
 * Yas, spechuly the tremenjus part, an' I'se feard hit 
 hain't at hits worst.' Ole Bullin's eyes wer a-stickin* 
 out like ontu two buckeyes flung agin a mud wall, 
 an' he wer a-cuttin' up more shines nor a cockroach 
 in a hot skillet. Off went the clamhammer coat, an' 
 he flung hit ahine 'im like he wer a-gwine intu a 
 fight ; he hed no jackid tu take off, so he unbuttond 
 his galluses, an' vigrusly flung the ainds back over 
 his head. He fotch his shut over-handed a durnd 
 site faster nor I got outen my pasted one, an' then 
 flung hit strait up in the air, like he jis wanted hit 
 tu keep on up furever ; but hit lodged ontu a black- 
 jack, an' I seed one ove my lizzards, wif his tail up, 
 a-racin' about all over the ole dirty shut, skared too 
 bad tu jump. Then he gin a sorter shake an' a 
 stompin' kine ove twis', an' he cum outer his britches. 
 He tuck 'em by the bottim ove the laigs, an' swung 
 
436 ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN LIFE. 
 
 'em roun* his head a time ur two, an' then fotch 'em 
 down cherall-up over the frunt ove the pulpit. You 
 cud a hearn the smash a quarter ove a mile ! Ni 
 ontu fifteen shorten'd biskits, a boiled chicken, wif 
 hits laigs crossed, a big dubbil-bladed knife, a hunk 
 ove terbacker, a cob-pipe, sum copper ore, lots ove 
 broken glass, a cork, a sprinkil ove whisky, a squirt, 
 an' three lizzards flew permiskusly all over that 
 meetin'-groun', outen the upper aind ove them big 
 flax britches. Now ole Bullin hed nufifin left ontu 
 'im but a par ove heavy, low quarter'd shoes, short 
 woolen socks, an' eel-skin garters tu keep off the 
 cramp. His skeer hed druv him plum crazy, fur he 
 felt roun' in the air, abuv his head, like he wer 
 huntin' sumthin in the dark, an' he beller'd out, 
 * Brethren, brethren, take keer ove yerselves ; the 
 Hell-sarpints lies got me ! ' When this cum out, yu 
 cud a-hearn the screams tu HaUfax. He jis spit in 
 his ban's, an' loped over the frunt ove the pulpid 
 kei'diff f He open'd a purfeckly clar track tu the 
 woods, ove every livin' thing. He weighed ni ontu 
 three hundred, hed a black stripe down his back, 
 like ontu a ole bridil rein. Thar wer cramp-knots on 
 his laigs es big es walnuts, an' mottled splotches on 
 his shins ; an' takin' him all over, he minded ove a 
 durnd crazy ole elephant, pussessed ove the devil, 
 rared up on hits hind aind, an' ]\^ gittin frum sum 
 imijut danger ur tribulashun. He did the loudest, 
 an* skariest, an' fussiest runnin' I ever seed, tu be no 
 faster nur hit wer, since dad tried tu outrun the 
 ho'nets. 
 
 "Well, he disapear'd in the thicket jis bustin ; 
 an' ove all the noises yu ever hearn, wer made thar 
 on that camp groun' : sum wimen screamin' — they 
 
SUT LOVINGOOD. 437 
 
 wer the skeery ones ; sum larfin — they wer the 
 wicked ones ; sum cryin' — they wer the fool ones 
 (sorter my stripe, yu know) ; sum tryin' tu git away, 
 wif thar faces red — they wer the modest ones ; sum 
 lookin' arter ole BulUn' — they wer the curious ones ; 
 sum hangin' clost tu thar sweethearts — they wer 
 the sweet ones ; sum on thar knees, wif thar eyes 
 shot, but facin' the way the old mud turtil wer arun- 
 nin' — they wer the 'saitful ones; sum duin nuthin 
 — they wer the waitin' ones, an' the mos' dangerus 
 ove all ove em by a durnd long site. 
 
 " I tuck a big skeer mysef arter a few rocks, an' 
 sich like fruit, spattered ontu the pulpit ni ontu my 
 head ; an' es the Lovingoods, durn em ! knows nuffin 
 but tu run, when they gits skeerd, I jis put out fur 
 the swamp on the krick. As I started, a black bottil 
 ove bald-face smashed agin a tree furninst me, arter 
 missin' the top ove my head 'bout a inch. Sum 
 durn'd fool professor dun this, who hed more zeal 
 or sence ; fur I say that eny man who wud waste a 
 quart ove even mean sperrits, fur the chance ove 
 knockin' a poor ornary devil like me down wif the 
 bottil, is a bigger fool nor ole Squire Mackmullen, 
 an' he tried tu shoot hissef wif a onloaded hoe- 
 handle." 
 
 " Did they catch you, Sut t " 
 
 " Ketch thunder ! No, sir ! Jis' look at these yere 
 laigs ! Skeer me, boss, jis skeer me, an' then watch 
 me while I stay in site, an' yu '11 never ax that fool 
 question agin. Why, durn it, man, that 's what the 
 ait dullers am fur. 
 
 " Ole Bullin, never preached ontil yesterday, an' 
 he had n't the fust durn'd 'oman tu hear 'im ; they hev 
 seed too much ove 'im. His tex' wer, * Nakid I cum 
 
438 ODDITIES IN SOU I HERN LIEE. 
 
 intu the world, an' nakid I 'm a gwine outen hit, ef 
 I 'm spard ontil then.' He sed nakidness warnt 
 much ove a sin, purtickerly ove dark nights ; that 
 he vver a weak, frail wum ove the dus', an' a heap 
 more sich truck. Then he totch ontu me ; sed I wer 
 a livin' proof ove the hell-desarvin' nater ove man, 
 an' that thar warnt grace enuf in the whole 'sociation 
 tu saften my outside rind ; that I wer * a lost ball ' 
 forty years afore I wer born'd, an' the bes' thing 
 they cud du fur the church wer tu turn out, an' still 
 hunt fur me ontil I wer shot. An' he never said 
 Hell-sarpints oust in the hole preach. I b'leve, 
 George, the durnd fools am at hit. 
 
 " Now, I wants yu tu tell ole Bullin this fur me : 
 ef he '11 let me alone, I '11 let him alone — a-while ; 
 an' ef he don't, ef I don't lizzard him agin, I jis' wish 
 I may be dod durnd ! Skeer him if yit ken. 
 
 " Let 's go tu the spring an' take a ho'n. 
 
 '' Say, George, did n't that ar Hell-sarpint sermon 
 ove his'n hev sumthin like a Hell-sarpint aplica- 
 shun' t Hit looks sorter so tu me." 
 
GEORGE W. BAGBY. 
 
 One of the brightest of writers for the press, and for periodical 
 literature, produced by the South is undoubtedly the author of the 
 letters of ** Mozis Addums to Billy Ivins," a series of smart and rak- 
 ish stories written from Washington toward the "wee sma' hours " 
 of the fifties, and although composed in the main of personal allusions 
 and local and current hits, sufficiently perspicuous and clever to at- 
 tract general attention. Dr, Bagby has been all his life a journalist 
 and litterateur, having in his time occupied such diversified posts as 
 editor of the " Southern Literary INIessenger," librarian of Virginia, 
 leader writer, and war correspondent for various Richmond dailies. 
 The following amusing sketch is a good illustration of his comic 
 manner. 
 
 HOW "ruby" played. 
 
 Jud Bro^^•n^n, when visiting New York, goes to hear Rubinstein, 
 and gives the following description of his playing : — 
 
 Well, sir, he had the blamedest, biggest, catty- 
 cornedest planner you ever laid eyes on ; somethin' 
 hke a distracted billiard table on three legs. The 
 lid was hoisted, and mighty well it was. If it had n't 
 been he 'd a tore the entire inside clean out, and 
 scattered 'em to the four winds of heaven. 
 
 Played ivell ? You bet he did ; but don't inter- 
 rupt me. When he first sit down, he 'peared to keer 
 mighty little 'bout playin', and wisht he had n't 
 come. He tweedle-eedled a little on the treble, and 
 twoodle-oodled some on the base, — just foolin' and 
 boxin' the thing's jaws for bein' in his way. And I 
 
440 ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN LIFE. 
 
 says to a man settin' next to me, says I, " What 
 sort of fool playin' is that ? " And he says, 
 " Heish ! " But presently his hands commenced 
 chasin' one another up and down the keys, like a 
 passel of rats scamperin' through a garret very swift. 
 Parts of it was sweet, though, and reminded me of 
 a sugar squirrel turnin' the wheel of a candy cage. 
 
 " Now," I says to my neighbor, " he 's showin' off. 
 He thinks he's a-doin' of it, but he ain't got no 
 idee, no plan of nothin'. If he 'd play me a tune of 
 some kind or. other I 'd" — 
 
 But my neighbor says ** Heish ! " very impatient. 
 
 I was just about to git up and go home, bein' 
 tired of that foolishness, when I heard a little bird 
 waking up away off in the woods, and call sleepy- 
 like to his mate, and 1 looked up and see that Rubin 
 was beginning to take some interest in his business, 
 and I sit down again. It was the peep of day. The 
 light came faint from the east ; the breezes blowed 
 gentle and fresh ; some more birds waked up in the 
 orchard, then some more in the trees near the 
 house, and all begun singin' together. People began 
 to stir, and the gal opened the shutters. Just then 
 the first beam of the sun fell upon the blossoms a 
 leetle more, and it techt the roses on the bushes, and 
 the next thing it was broad day : the sun fairly 
 blazed ; the birds sung like they 'd split their little 
 throats ; all the leaves was movin', and flashin' dia- 
 monds of dew, and the whole wide world was bright 
 and happy as a king. Seemed to me Uke there was a 
 good breakfast in every house in the land, and not 
 a sick child or woman anywhere. It was a fine 
 mornin'. 
 
 And I says to my neighbor, " That 's music, that 
 
 \s." 
 
GEORGE W. BAGBY. 44 1 
 
 But he glared at me like he 'd Hke to cut my 
 throat. 
 
 Presently the wind turned ; it begun to thicken 
 up, and a kind of gray mist came over things ; I got 
 low-spirited directly. Then a silver rain begun to 
 fall. I could see the drops touch the ground ; some 
 flashed up like long pearl ear-rings, and the rest 
 rolled away like round rubies. It was pretty, but 
 melancholy. Then the pearls gathered themselves 
 into long strands and necklaces, and then they 
 melted into thin silver streams, running between 
 golden gravels; and then the streams joined each 
 other at the bottom of the hill, and made a brook 
 that flowed silent, except that you could kinder see 
 the music, specially when the bushes on the banks 
 moved as the music went along down the valley. I 
 could smell the flowers in the meadow. But the sun 
 did n't shine, nor the birds sing ; it was a foggy day, 
 but not cold. 
 
 The most curious thing was the little white angel- 
 boy, like you see in pictures, that run ahead of the 
 music brook and led it on and on, away out of the 
 world, where no man ever was, certain. I could 
 see that boy just as plain as I see you. Then the 
 moonlight came, without any sunset, and shone on 
 the graveyards, where some few ghosts lifted their 
 hands and went over the wall ; and between the 
 black, sharp-top trees splendid marble houses rose 
 up, with fine ladies in the lit-up windows, and men 
 that loved 'em, but could never get a-nigh 'em, who 
 played on guitars under the trees, and made me that 
 miserable I could have cried, because I wanted to 
 love somebody, I don't know who, better than the 
 men with the guitars did. 
 
442 ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN LIFE. 
 
 Then the moon went down, it got dark, the wind 
 moaned and wept like a lost child for its dead 
 mother, and I could a got up then and there and 
 preached a better sermon than any I ever listened 
 to. There was n't a thing in the world left to live 
 for, not a blame thing, and yet I did n't want the 
 music to stop one bit. It was happier to be miser- 
 able than to be happy without being miserable. I 
 could n't understand it. I hung my head and pulled 
 out my handkerchief, and blowed my nose loud to 
 keep me from cryin'. My eyes is weak any way. I 
 did n't want anybody to be a-gazin' at me a-snivlin', 
 and it 's nobody's business what I do with my nose. 
 It 's mine. But some several glared at me mad as 
 blazes. Then, all of a sudden, old Rubin changed 
 his tune. He ripped out and he rared, he tipped 
 and he tared, he pranced and he charged like the 
 grand entry at a circus. 'Feared to me that all the 
 gas in the house was turned on at once, things got 
 so bright, and I hilt up my head, ready to look any 
 man in the face, and not afraid of nothin'. It was a 
 circus, and a brass band, and a big ball, all goin' on 
 at the same time. He lit into them keys like a 
 thousand of brick ; he give em no rest day or night ; 
 he set every livin' joint in me a-goin', and not bein' 
 able to stand it no longer, I jumped spang onto my 
 seat, and jest hollered, — 
 
 *' Go it, my Rube !'* 
 
 Every blamed man, woman, and child in the house 
 riz on me, and shouted, " Put him out ! put him 
 out ! " 
 
 " Put your great-grandmother's grizzly gray green- 
 ish cat into the middle of next month ! " I says. 
 ** Tech me if you dare .-* I paid my money, and you 
 jest come a-nigh me ! " 
 
GEORGE W. BAGBY. 443 
 
 With that some several policemen run up, and I 
 had to simmer down. But I would a fit any fool that 
 laid hands on me, for I was bound to hear Ruby out 
 or die. 
 
 He had changed his tune again. He hop-light 
 ladies and tip-toed fine from end to end of the key- 
 board. He played soft and low and solemn. I heard 
 the church bells over the hills. The candles of 
 heaven was. lit, one by one ; I saw the stars rise. 
 The great organ of eternity began to play from the 
 world's end to the world's end, and all the angels 
 went to prayers. . . . Then the music changed to 
 water, full of feeling that could n't be thought, and 
 began to drop — drip, drop — drip, drop, clear and 
 sweet, like tears of joy falling into a lake of glory. It 
 was sweeter than that. It was as sweet as a sweet- 
 heart sweetened with white sugar mixtwith powdered 
 silver and seed diamonds. It was too sweet. I tell you 
 the audience cheered. Rubin he kinder bowed, like 
 he wanted to say, *' Much obleeged, but I 'd rather 
 you would n't interrup' me.*' 
 
 He stopt a moment or two to ketch breath. Then 
 he got mad. He run his fingers through his hair, he 
 shoved up his sleeve, he opened his coat tails a 
 leetle further, he drug up his stool, he leaned over, 
 and, sir, he just went for that old planner. He slapt 
 her face, he boxed her jaws, he pulled her nose, he 
 pinched her ears, and he scratched her cheeks until 
 she fairly yelled. He knockt her down and he 
 stampt on her shameful. She bellowed like a bull, 
 she bleated like a calf, she howled like a hound, she 
 squealed like a pig, she shrieked like a rat, and then 
 he would n't let her up. He run a quarter stretch 
 down the low grounds of the base, till he got clean 
 
444 ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN LIFE. 
 
 in the bowels of the earth, and you heard thunder 
 galloping after thunder, through the hollows and 
 caves of perdition ; and then he fox-chased his right 
 hand with his left till he got way out of the treble 
 into the clouds, whar the notes was finer than the 
 pints of cambric needles, and you could n't hear 
 nothin' but the shadders of 'em. And tJien he 
 would n't let the old planner go. He far'ard two'd, 
 he crost over first gentleman, he chassade right and 
 left, back to your places, he all hands'd aroun', la- 
 dies to the right, promenade all, in and out, here 
 and there, back and forth, up and down, perpetual 
 motion, double twisted and turned and tacked, 
 and tangled into forty-eleven thousand double bow 
 knots. 
 
 By jinks ! it was a mixtery. And then he would 
 n't let the old planner go. He fecht up his right 
 wing, he fecht up his left wing, he fecht up his 
 center, he fecht up his reserves. He fired by file, 
 he fired by platoons, by company, by regiments, and 
 by brigades. He opened his cannon, — siege guns 
 down thar, Napoleons here, twelve pounders yonder, 
 — big guns, little guns, middle-sized guns, round 
 shot, shells, shrapnels, grape, canister, mortar, mines 
 and magazines, every livin' battery and bomb a-goin' 
 at the same time. The house trembled, the lights 
 danced, the walls shuk, the floor come up, the ceilin' 
 come down, the sky split, the ground rokt — heavens 
 and earth, creation, sweet potatoes, Moses, nine- 
 pences, glory, ten penny nails, Sampson in a 'sim- 
 mon tree roodle-oodle-oodle-oodle — ruddle-uddle- 
 uddle-uddle — raddle-addle-addle-addle — riddle-iddle- 
 iddle-iddle — reedle-eedle-eedle-eedle — p-r-r-r-rlank ! 
 Bang ! ! ! lang ! perlang ! p-r-r-r-r ! ! Bang ! ! ! 
 
GEORGE W. BAGBY. 445 
 
 With that bang ! he lifted himself bodily into the 
 ar, and he come down with his knees, his ten fingers,' 
 his ten toes, his elbows, and his nose, striking every 
 single solitary key on the planner at the same time. 
 The thing busted and went off into seventeen hun- 
 dred and fifty-seven thousand five hundred and forty- 
 two heme-demi-semi quivers, and I know'd no mo'. 
 
 When I come to, I were under ground about 
 twenty foot, in a place they call Oyster Bay, treatin' 
 a Yankee that I never laid eyes on before, and never 
 expect to agin. Day was breakin' by the tim.e I got 
 to the St. Nicholas Hotel, and I pledge you my word 
 I did not know mv name. The man asked me the 
 number of my room, and I told him, " Hot music on 
 the half-shell for two ! " 
 
THE NEWSPAPER WITS. 
 
 I. 
 
 GEORGE D. PRENTICE. 
 
 Mr. Prentice came to Kentucky from Connecticut when he was 
 thirty years of age ; but he fell into the mood and the ways of the 
 South from the day of his arrival, and, to the day of his death, stood 
 as the most representative of Southern writers. He was the father 
 of the newspaper paragraph ; and for a quarter of a century he had 
 no rival in the production of this particular species of wit. He made 
 in the journalism of his period a very brilliant figure, and played al- 
 ternately the part of an amateur statesman and poet. He was in real- 
 ity, and in the true meaning of those terms, neither a statesman nor a 
 poet. But he was, undoubtedly, a wit. Yet the very worst of his 
 productions was the volume entitled " Prenticiana," from which I am, 
 by many considerations, forced to limit my quotations. In his person 
 Mr. Prentice was an interesting character, his marksmanship being as 
 deadly as his wit. He had a great career, and his effigy in marble 
 graces the fagade v i the noblest building in the city where he lived 
 and died. But his life was in many ways unhappy, and his closing 
 days were environed by domestic afflictions, which made the coming 
 of the end welcome to him. I append an assortment of his " fisti- 
 cuffs," as he called them. Though they have lost the spontaneity and 
 vitality which marked their appearance in the columns of the Louis- 
 ville " Journal," they display his method, and are models of pithy 
 English, saying often a great deal in very few words. 
 
 — The '' Advertiser " contains a long valedictory 
 from its late editor, Shadrack Penn. Shadrack, 
 after a residence of twenty-three years as an editor 
 in this city, goes to spend the rest of his life and lay 
 his bones in St. Louis. Well, he has our best wishes 
 
NEWSPAPER WITS. 447 
 
 for his prosperity ; all the ill-will we ever felt for 
 him passed out long ago through our thumb and 
 fore-fin2:er. His lot hitherto has been a most un- 
 gentle one ; but we trust his life may prove akin to 
 the plant that begins to blossom at the advanced age 
 of half a century. May all be well with him here 
 and hereafter ; for we should be sorry if a poor fel- 
 low, whom we have been torturing eleven years in 
 this world, were to be handed over to the d — 1 in the 
 next. 
 
 — The New Haven " Herald " says : '' Does the 
 editor of the Louisville 'Journal ' suppose that he is 
 a true Yankee because he was born in New Eng- 
 land ? If a dog is born in an oven, is he bi'ead ? " 
 We can tell the editor that there are very few dogs, 
 whether born in an oven or out of it, but are better 
 bred than he is. 
 
 — The '' Herald" says that Mr. W., in his 
 
 speech at the court-house in that place, professed 
 to have forgotten the name of the editor of the 
 ** Journal." • He would forget his own if he changed 
 it as often as he does his principles. 
 
 — The editor of the *' Democrat " says that 
 
 he does n't know us, and never expects to meet 
 us on this side of the grave. We shall think our- 
 selves in particularly bad luck if we meet him on the 
 otJier side. 
 
 — A friend of ours, who has been hesitating 
 whether to keep a matrimonial engagement, informs 
 us that he has at last bespoke his wedding suit. He 
 evidently, on the whole, prefers a suit for the fulfill- 
 ment of his promise to a suit for breach of it. 
 
 — A young widow has estabhshed a pistol-gallery 
 in New Orleans. Her qualifications as a teacher of 
 
448 ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN LIFE. 
 
 the art of dueling are of course undoubted ; she has 
 killed her num. 
 
 — A Canadian editor says that he has " a keen 
 rapier to prick all fools and knaves." His friends 
 had better take it from him. He might commit 
 suicide. 
 
 — The disciples of one of our modern schools of 
 authorship are, in one respect, like the ancient sibyl. 
 They utter mysteries unintelligible to themselves, 
 leaving the world to find out the meaning if it can. 
 
 — We cannot think of reading the whole of the 
 locofoco part of the Oregon debate in Congress, but 
 we have read the speeches of long John Wentworth 
 and little Mr. Douglas, so that we presume we have 
 got "the long and the short of it." 
 
 — A correspondent of the " North American " 
 says that old Mr. R., in his own opinion, " sustains 
 the world upon his head." We have often heard 
 that the world stands tipon notJiing. 
 
 — We see it announced that Henry Stone, an in- 
 fluential Democrat of Berks County, Pa., has turned 
 Whig. The Whigs must manage to turn the rest of 
 the family. No Stone must be left unturned. 
 
 — A man in our State, who attempted to hug a 
 beautiful young woman, Miss Lemon, has sued her 
 for striking him in the eye. Why should a fellow 
 squeeze a Lemon unless he wants a punch } 
 
 — " Husband, I must have some change to-day." 
 ** Well, stay at home and take care of the children 
 — that will be change enough." 
 
 — "I have n't another word to say, wife — I never 
 dispute with fools." *' No, husband, you are very 
 sure to agree with them." 
 
 — Many writers profess great exactness in punc- 
 tuation, who yet never make a point. 
 
NEWSPAPER WITS. 449 
 
 — Our neighbor says he has discovered a rat-hole. 
 He had better move into it and save house-rent. 
 
 — A neighboring editor says lie lately met with 
 one of his jokes thirty years old. We suspect he 
 has met with a good many of them much older than 
 himself. 
 
 — There is a law in Newark against " the opening 
 of rum-holes." If such a law were enforced in Con- 
 gress, several members would have to keep their 
 mouths shut. 
 
 — When a young w^oman marries an old man for 
 his money, he should certainly let her have it all. 
 If she takes him, that she doesn't want, he should 
 let her have his gold that she does. 
 
 — I\Ien should not think too much of themselves, 
 and yet a man should always be careful not to forget 
 himself ! 
 
 — In the swamps of Louisiana, a few days ago, a 
 catamount leaped from a tree and attacked Mr. Wil- 
 liam Kenny. The animal did n't prove a Kill-kenny 
 cat. 
 
 — The Cincinnati representative in Congress 
 boasts that he can *' bring an argument to a p'int as 
 quick as any other man." He can bring a quart to a 
 pint a good deal quicker. 
 
 — If you woo the company of the angels in your 
 waking hours, they will be sure to come to you in 
 your sleep. 
 
 — One swallow, to be sure, does n't make a sum- 
 mer ; but too many swallows make a fall. 
 
 — Place confers no dignity upon such a man as 
 the new ^Missouri senator. Like a balloon, the 
 higher he rises the smaller he looks. 
 
 — A Democratic editor in Indiana says that he 
 
 29 
 
450 ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN LIFE. 
 
 should hazard very little in contradicting our asser- 
 tions. Very true ; he would be hazarding the 
 merest trifle in the world — nothing but Ids character 
 for vo'acity. 
 
 — Emerson tells us that ** the tongue should be a 
 faithful teacher." Certainly the eye ought to be — 
 it always has a pupil. 
 
 — An author, ridiculing the idea of ghosts, asks 
 how a dead man can get into a locked room. Prob- 
 ably with a skeleton key. 
 
 — The earth is a tender and kind mother to the 
 farmer ; yet, at one season, he harrows her bosom, 
 and at another plucks her ears. 
 
 — A Mr. Archer has been sent to the Ohio 
 penitentiary for marrying three wives. " Insatiate 
 Archer ! Could not one suffice ? " 
 
 II. 
 
 JOHN E. HATCHER. 
 
 Twenty-five or thirty years ago there began to float about in the 
 newspapers a succession of comic stories, sketches, and poems bear- 
 ing the not very euphonious signature, " G. Washington Bricks." 
 The owner of this nom de phime was the late John E. Hatcher. He 
 was one of the silent singers of the press, but he lacked nothing of 
 eminence except good fortune ; for he was a humorist of the very 
 first water, and had he lived under different conditions could not have 
 failed of the celebrity to which his talents entitled him. Born not 
 merely poor, but far inland, with no early advantages, and later in life 
 with none except those furnished by a rural newspaper, ill health 
 overtook him before he had divined his own powers. When ad- 
 vancing years and increasing infirmities disqualified Mr. Prentice for 
 the scintillating work which had become essential to the "Journal," 
 Mr. Hatcher was set to fill the place thus made vatant. How well he 
 did so the following selection of paragraphs will show. During two 
 years before the death of Mr. Prentice, and for five or six years there- 
 after, Mr. Hatcher poured out a daily stream of this matter, laying 
 
NEWSPAPER WITS. 45 I 
 
 down his pencil only with his life. His wit was not so aggressive as 
 that of Mr. Prentice. But he had more humor. He died in the prime 
 of life and left behind him a professional tradition, which is cherished 
 by the little circle of friends to whom a charming jDersonality and 
 many brilliant gifts made him very dear. 
 
 — Not long ago somebody started a newspaper 
 called "The Eye of Mississippi." As might have 
 been expected, Mississippi very speedily went blind 
 in that eye. 
 
 — The first cockroach of the season was seen 
 skulking about the editorial table last night in search 
 of paste. He would have had his rascally brains 
 knocked out and his throat cut from ear to ear but 
 for the fear that his friends and acquaintances would 
 come to the funeral and forget to go home again. 
 
 — A New York letter says : *' It just occurs to 
 me that it is not every man that knows exactly what 
 to select as a suitable Christmas gift for his mother- 
 in-law." We should think that, if she happens to be 
 visiting at his house, a railroad ticket to her home 
 would be about the first thing to suggest itself to 
 him. 
 
 — ''Illinois," says the Chicago "Times, "should 
 have a public hangman." A public hangman ! Why, 
 it would take at least twenty to do Chicago. 
 
 — They now have in New York a Fat Man's As- 
 sociation, a Lean Man's Association, and a Bald- 
 headed Association. An attempt was made the 
 other day to start a Damphool Association, but it 
 was found that the other associations had absorbed 
 all the material. 
 
 — A Boston lady has four pimples on her face 
 and offers $12,000 to anybody who will remove 
 them. We are not much of a doctor, but if it were 
 
452 ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN LITE. 
 
 not for pressing engagements which keep us at 
 home, we should seize a bottle of aquafortis, a pair 
 of pincers, and a grab hook, and start for Boston by 
 the next train. 
 
 — When the Columbia (Tenn.) ** Journal " begins 
 a paragraph with, " Saturday night last, while that 
 good man Lazarus' house was crowded with custo- 
 mers," etc., it reminds us of the reply of a young 
 man to a question as to where a certain barbecue 
 was to take place. " It will take place, sir," said 
 he, *' at a gentleman by the name of Bill Johnson's 
 spring." 
 
 — Garters with monogram clasps are now worn 
 by the pretty girls. They are rather a novelty yet, 
 but we hope to see more of them. 
 
 — There is said to be a baby in Nashville that 
 was born in a private box at the theatre there the 
 other night during the performance of the play. If 
 that infant had been half as old that night as its 
 mother it would probably have had sense enough to 
 stay at home. 
 
 — Detroit Free Press : ''The 'Capital' and the 
 * Courier-Journal ' are having hot words about a 
 pronoun, and are resorting to adjectives to sustain 
 them." You are mistaken so far as we are con- 
 -cerned. We m-entioned that the 'Capital' habitu- 
 ally uses the pronoun " ourself," and remarked that 
 nobody but a sporadically low-down excontradistinc- 
 tive knock-kneed and flagiciously bandy-legged and 
 freckled -faced son of a sway-backed and moon-eyed 
 saw-horse would do it, but we resorted to no adjec- 
 tives. 
 
 — A correspondent at Elizabethtown asks: "Is 
 it correct to say 'to the manner born,' or 'to the 
 
NEWSPAPER WITS. 453 
 
 manor born ? ' " The Chicago " Tribune " has it one 
 way and the Atlanta "Constitution" has it the other. 
 We have made arrangements for the editors of those 
 papers to meet and fight it out a little to the rear of 
 Jeffersonville, and we shall announce the decision of 
 the umpire as soon after the funeral as possible. 
 
 — " In spite of the many evidences produced by 
 Dr. Schliemann," says an exchange, "there are 
 many scholars who doubt that he really discovered 
 the site of ancient Troy." Yes, we doubted it for a 
 long time ourselves, but when Dr. Schliemann act- 
 ually discovered the corn cobs where the Greeks 
 fed their wooden horse, we felt that to doubt longer 
 would be absurd. 
 
 — " The New York * Telegram ' advises people 
 to marry for love and not for money." Good advice, 
 certainly ; but inasmuch as you will always be in 
 want of money if you miarry for love, and always in 
 want of love if you marry for money, your safest way 
 is to marry for a little of both. 
 
 — Some of our contemporaries will persist in 
 speaking of us as a '' rebel." That we fought for the 
 stars and bars with a heroism of which Marathon, 
 Leuctra, and Thermopylae never even dreamed, the 
 bones of half-a-dozen substitutes which lie bleed- 
 ing upon as many " stormy heights and carnage-cov- 
 ered fields " bear testimony abundant and indisput- 
 able, and that we suffer ourselves still to be called a 
 ''rebel" without unsheathing the avenging dagger 
 and wading up to our knees in gore, is simply be- 
 cause there is already as much blood upon the hands 
 of our substitutes as we can furnish soap to wash off 
 without becoming a bankrupt. Nevertheless, if this 
 thing is much longer persisted in, there may come 
 
454 ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN LIFE. 
 
 a time when virtue will cease to be a forbearance. 
 One more taste of blood, this sanguinary arm once 
 more uplifted to smite, and the world will shudder. 
 
 — A New York journal tells us that " the Wis- 
 consin tornado is to be scientifically examined and 
 studied by members of the faculty of the University 
 of Wisconsin." Where do they suppose that tor- 
 nado is now, going at the rate of a hundred and 
 ninety miles an hour and with ten or fifteen days the 
 start } We should as soon think of examining and 
 studying scientifically a clap of thunder two weeks 
 old. 
 
 — General Grant says he won't call an extra ses- 
 sion of Congress unless the war in Europe is likely 
 to give us trouble. So he is determined that if the 
 gods bring us one calamity, he will immediately step 
 forward with another. 
 
 — Some idea of the extreme scarcity and high 
 price of horses in England in 1485 may be formed 
 from the fact, that during that year Richard III. of- 
 fered his entire kingdom for one. 
 
 — For list of candidates see first page. — Banner. 
 For the candidates themselves — but you need n't 
 trouble yourself to see them ; they '11 see you. 
 
 — An exchange says that " the trouble with some 
 folks is that unless they have a great parade at their 
 own funeral, they are sorry they died." Which is 
 very true. There are people who, if it were not for 
 the sake of a grand funeral, would put off dying to 
 the last moment. 
 
 — If you would become a millionaire without 
 trouble of any sort, lend somebody one hundred 
 dollars for one hundred years at ten per cent. At 
 the expiration of that time the interest will amount 
 
NEWSPAPER WITS. 455 
 
 to $1,380,900. If you don't want to live to collect the 
 debt, sell it to somebody that does. 
 
 — On some of our street railways a car cannot be 
 stopped after it passes you without the use of that 
 soul-harrowing whistle signal which can be made 
 only by a boy who was born to be hanged. 
 
 — The United States navy has but one Admiral 
 Poor. We wish we could say it has but one poor 
 admiral. 
 
 — There is a Servian prince in the Prussian army 
 whose name is so long that a company of engineers 
 has been ordered to level down the consonants and 
 use it as a pontoon-bridge. 
 
 — Atlanta has sixty-five doctors and one hundred 
 and thirty-five lawyers. But for the frequent deaths 
 from starvation among them the two professions 
 there would become a little crowded. 
 
 — Among the bridal gifts at the marriage of a 
 strong-minded young woman in Massachusetts the 
 other day was a keg of butter with a silver knife in 
 it. Six months hence the bridegroom will be very 
 sorry it was n't a keg of powder with a red-hot nail 
 in it. 
 
 — It is said that the Siamese Twins have n't 
 spoken to each other for more than a month. We 
 have been constantly expecting a falling out be- 
 tween them ever since we saw how ridiculously in- 
 timate they were. 
 
 — The French General Failly, who was killed by a 
 Prussian shell, and was afterward murdered by his 
 own soldiers, and subsequently blew out his own 
 brains, is now prisoner at Mayence — whether dead 
 or alive, the telegraph does not inform us. 
 
 — A gentleman in Indiana says, in a note ac- 
 
456 ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN LIFE. 
 
 companying a letter for publication in this paper: 
 " I sumtimes miss-spell a word, and its posible I 
 have spelt sicafant rong." Our correspondent is as- 
 sured that " sicafant " is all right, and that the rest 
 of his spelling is quite as good. 
 
 — " Five years ago," said one gentleman to an- 
 other on the street yesterday, " I had ten thousand 
 dollars and did n't owe a cent ; to-day I owe the ten 
 thousand dollars I then had and have n't got the cent 
 I did n't owe." 
 
 — The Boston Advertiser asks, ** Can the West 
 manufacture } " Why, certainly she can. With the 
 raw material furnished her by the East she manu- 
 factures more divorces than any other part of the 
 world. 
 
 — Some papers are talking of the "approaching 
 Diet of the Powers." Judging from indications, that 
 diet will be blood pudding. 
 
 — Have just had a Prison Reform Congress. 
 What we most need is a prison to reform Congress. 
 
 — The Glasgow " Times " tells of a man in Geor- 
 gia, fifty years of age, who never in his life drank a 
 glass of whiskey, smoked a pipe, or courted a woman. 
 The poor wretch has lived utterly in vain. The man 
 who has never sat by a beautiful woman, with a pipe 
 in his mouth, a glass of whiskey in one hand, and 
 the whalebones of her palpitating stays in the other, 
 and " with a lip unused to the cool breath of reason, 
 told his love," has no more idea of Paradise than a 
 deaf and dumb orang-outang has of metaphysics. 
 Even without the pipe and whiskey there is, strictly 
 speaking, nothing disagreeable about it. 
 
NEWSPAPER WITS. 457 
 
 III. 
 
 TEXAS SIFTINGS. 
 
 Mr. Street, the author of " Texas Siftings/' has introduced a new 
 quality to the newspaper humor of the South. Taking his cue from 
 the paragraphists, of whom Mr. Prentice and Mr. Hatcher were the 
 foremost examples, he has added action to the wit of the paragraph. 
 His paragraphs are comedies. " Who," says the fashionable clergy. 
 man at the wedding, " Who gives this woman away ? " And a voice 
 down the aisle whispers, " I could, but I won't." As this gentleman 
 is about issuing a volume of his own, I shall limit my selections to a 
 few of the most current and illustrative of his very striking and orig- 
 inal quiddities. 
 
 — "You miserable little ignoramus, you have not 
 got a particle of capacity," said an Austin school- 
 teacher to little Johnny Fizzletop, adding, " What 
 will become of you when you grow up } How will 
 you earn your salt } " 
 
 *' I dunno — teach school, I reckon." 
 Whack ! Whack ! Whack I 
 
 — ''I am glad to see, Johnny, that you did not try 
 to steal peaches out of that wagon. I like a little 
 boy when he is obedient. Come to my arms," were 
 the words of a proud Austin mother. 
 
 '* I ain't no such sucker as to steal peaches out of 
 a wagon with no top to it to keep the driver from 
 seeing a feller, and when there is a bull dog tied un- 
 der the wagon besides." 
 
 — Some Austin society people are getting up a 
 theatrical performance. 
 
 " What sort of a part of a role are you going to 
 give me t " asked Hostetter McGinnis, of the man- 
 ager. 
 
458 ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN LIFE. 
 
 *' One you will like. It is just suited to you. It 
 is that of a reformed drunkard. You will be off the 
 stage so much, you can go out and get beer ten or 
 fifteen times during the performance." 
 
 — Mrs. McCoble, an Austin lady, rebuked her 
 colored cook, Matilda Snowball, in the following 
 words : — 
 
 ** When I hired you, you said you did n't have any 
 male friends, and now I find a man in the kitchen 
 half the time." 
 
 " Lor bress your soul, he ain't no male friend of 
 mine." 
 
 '' Who is he, then > " 
 
 " He am only my husband." 
 
 — '* Repeat the names of the five senses," said an 
 Austin teacher to a rather dull boy. 
 
 " Hearing, seeing, tasting, smelling." 
 ** What is the name of the other sense .'* " 
 " I forgot." 
 
 The teacher said he would refresh the boy's mem- 
 ory, and he did so with a strap. 
 
 " Now, what is the name of the fifth sense ? " 
 The boy felt himself carefully and sobbed : " Feel- 
 ing, sir, feeling ! " 
 
 — Austin can boast of the champion absent- 
 minded man of Texas. His name is Collard Mc- 
 Carthy. He is an old man, and is accused of trying 
 to invent a perpetual motion machine. He met an 
 old friend yesterday, and asked him in a dreamy 
 kind of a way, -^ 
 
 " I suppose you feel lonesome, now your brother 
 is dead and gone ? " 
 
 " My brother is not dead. He saw you and talked 
 with you yesterday." 
 
NEWSPAPER WITS. 459 
 
 "That's a fact. Then it couldn't have been him 
 who died. Ah, by the way, was it you, then, who 
 died, and whose funeral I attended } " 
 
 — Colonel Percy Yerger was complaining confi- 
 dentially to Hostetter McGinnis of the frequency 
 with which his mother-in-law paid him visits — that 
 she came to see him four or five times a year. 
 
 " My wife's mother," responded McGinnis, *' has 
 visited me only once in the last five or six years. 
 The last time she came to see me was when I was 
 first married, five years ago." 
 
 " Lucky man ! When is she going to visit you 
 
 agam ? 
 
 " How can I tell ? She has not got through with 
 her first visit yet, — but I can't see where the luck 
 comes in." 
 
 — Little Johnny, who has been observing the dif- 
 ficulty with which gorged mosquitoes fly, remarks to 
 his little brother at the breakfast table, — 
 
 " If you eat so much you will die, Billy, and be an 
 angel, but you won't be able to fly much." 
 
 — An old citizen of Austin, returning to his home 
 from a banquet, meets another old citizen of Austin 
 coming from the opposite direction. 
 
 " Ish thish the Avenue ? " asked No. i. 
 " How should I know. I wash at she banquet 
 myshelf." 
 
 — " How many hours are there in a day ? " asked 
 an Austin teacher. 
 
 " I don't reckon there can be more than twenty- 
 three hours in a day, now," was the reply. 
 
 " Did n't I tell you more than forty times that 
 there were twenty-four hours in a day ? " 
 
 *' Yes, and yesterday I heard you say that after 
 the 2 1 St of June the days would be getting shorter." 
 
460 ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN LIFE. 
 
 Up to the time of our going to press, the teacher 
 has not had time to prepare his reply. 
 
 — '* Is this your first appearance in a court of jus- 
 tice ? " asked the Austin Recorder of a vagrant. 
 " No, judge, it is the last time thus far, — how is it 
 with yourself } " 
 
 — " Is dis heah letter all right, boss 1 " asked an 
 Austin darkey, handing the clerk a letter he wanted 
 to send off in the mail. The clerk weighed the let- 
 ter and returned it, saying : ** You want to put an- 
 other stamp on it. It weighs too much." *' Ef I 
 puts another stamp on de letter, dat won't make hit 
 no lighter. Dat 's gwine ter make it weigh more." 
 
 — " How much rent do you pay } " asked Gilhoo- 
 ly of Hostetter McGinnis. " Twenty-five dollars." 
 " Is n't that a little high for a place like Austin } " 
 " Yes, it is a little high for summer ; but the place 
 has a good stout cedar fence around it and I calcu- 
 late to save forty dollars this winter in firewood, so 
 that will bring the rent down to a reasonable fig- 
 ure." 
 
 — ''Which is the first and most important sac- 
 rament } " asked an Austin Sunday-school teacher 
 of a little girl in his class. ** Marriage," was the 
 prompt response. " Oh, no ; baptism is the first 
 and most important sacrament," replied the teacher. 
 '' It may be in some families, but marriage always 
 comes first in our family. We are respectable peo- 
 ple, we are." 
 
 — A citizen who lately built himself a residence 
 was the other day showing a friend through it, and, 
 when everything had been noticed and discussed, he 
 asked, " Well, do you see any place where you could 
 improve it ? " '* Yes, I noticed a bad error right at 
 
NEWSPAPER WITS. 46 1 
 
 the start," was the reply. Being asked to explain, 
 he continued : " You have no balcony in front." 
 ** But I don't want one." "Well, perhaps not ; but 
 when you are running for office and the band comes 
 up to serenade you, and the populace calls for a 
 speech, you will either have to go to the roof or come 
 down to the ground to respond. A balcony is a sort 
 of middle ground — just high enough to escape mak- 
 ing pledges, and not too high to promise all sorts of 
 reform. Ought to have a balcony, sir — regret it if 
 you don't." 
 
 — " What makes you look so solemn t " whispered 
 a fashionable Austin lady to another in church, just 
 before the services began. 
 
 " I 've got good reason to be mad," was the re- 
 sponse. 
 
 "What is it.?" 
 
 " I dressed myself up in this new suit I ordered 
 from New York and went to church to show it off." 
 
 " Well, what of it } " asked the other party. 
 
 " Our clock was a whole hour fast, and I had to 
 sit and sit in that empty church without anybody to 
 see my new clothes, and they are so becoming to my 
 complexion. There was nobody to see them for a 
 whole hour, and I might just as well have had no 
 clothes on at all. It made me so mad that " — 
 
 " The Lord is in His Holy Temple, let all the earth 
 keep silence before Him," was the opening remark 
 of the preacher, and the rest of the conversation was 
 lost to the reporter. 
 
 — Some men begin to be lucky when they are 
 mere boys. A twelve year old boy shot at a cat in 
 Leadville last week, but fortunately missed the cat 
 and killed an influential citizen who was asleep in 
 
462 ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN LITE. 
 
 the back yard of a neighboring saloon. As the in- 
 fluential citizen happened to be a delegate from 
 Texas, who had killed several men, and of whom 
 the Leadville police had a holy horror, the joy of the 
 citizens was great. The boy received an ovation. 
 The mayor made a neat little speech on presenting 
 him with a gold-mounted revolver. As the boy ex- 
 pressed a desire to be raised for the ministry, a fund 
 was raised to send him to a theological institute. 
 Nothing has, however, been done for the cat. 
 
 — Jim Webster, an Austin colored voter, returned 
 a few days ago, after an absence of a week in the 
 country. After he got back, he was asking Uncle 
 Mose how his negro acquaintances were coming on, 
 and among others what Tom Knott, who was cele- 
 brated for his lack of sociability and stillness, was 
 doing. " Did n't yer meet a funeral as yer was 
 comin' into town } " " Yes, I did. Uncle Mose." 
 " Dem was Tom Knott's obsequious, dey was." 
 " Well, I mout had guessed hit. Dat ain't de fust 
 time he has passed me on de street widout lettin' on 
 dat he knowed me." 
 
 — The Fizzletop family, including Johnny, were 
 invited to tea at the McDade mansion, on Austin 
 Avenue. 
 
 " Have another cake, Johnny } " 
 
 " Yes mam, I '11 take two or three," he replied, 
 gathering in about seven cakes ; " ma told me to eat 
 heartily, so you all would n't suspect we only had one 
 meal a day at home. Please gimme some more pre- 
 serves and another piece of chicken breast." 
 
 — An Austin father complained bitterly of the 
 way his children destroyed their clothing. He said : 
 " When I was a boy I only had one suit of clothes, 
 
NEWSPAPER WITS. 463 
 
 and I had to take care of it. I was only allowed 
 one pair of shoes a year in those days." There was 
 a pause, and then the oldest boy spoke up and said : 
 " I say, dad, you have a much easier time of it now 
 — you are living with us." 
 
 — " Have you got a copy of * Milton's Paradise 
 Lost } ' " asked Gilhooly of Colonel Schneider Mc- 
 Ginnis, one of our Austin aristocrats. " What in 
 the world is that.?" replied McGinnis. "It's a 
 book," responded Gilhooly. *' No, sir ; I have not 
 got such a book. Whenever I find anything that 's 
 lost I return it to the owner. When did Mr. Milton 
 lose his book } What reward is he offering for its 
 return .-* " 
 
 — There is an old beau at Austin, Colonel Pret- 
 timan, about seventy-five years old, but he is as spry 
 as anybody, and is firmdy persuaded he is the hand- 
 somest man in the city. He was present at a little 
 social gathering a few nights ago, when the lecture 
 of Oscar Wilde at San Antonio came up for discus- 
 sion. It was also stated that he was a very hand- 
 some man. '' Oscar is not only handsome, but they 
 say he carries a pistol to shoot the first man he sees 
 whom he thinks is handsomer than he is himself," 
 remarked one of the party. '' Is that so } " gasped 
 Colonel Prettiman, turning pale ; " and here I have 
 gone and bought a ticket to go over to San Antonio 
 to hear him lecture." 
 
 — An Austin couple named Beezumbee were dis- 
 cussing what name to give their recently-arrived in- 
 fant. " Let us name him after your uncle who went 
 to Kansas last year for his health," suggested the 
 mother. *' I 'd like to name the boy after him, but 
 how are we to find out what name he goes by now } " 
 
464 ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN LIFE. 
 
 answered the author of the child's existence. Not 
 long afterward reliable information was received that 
 the missing uncle did not go by any name at all. 
 He went by a number — No. 283 — in the Kansas 
 penitentiary, and the child's father naturally did not 
 care to have the unconscious babe baptized " Num- 
 ber Two Hundred and Eighty-Three Beezumbee." 
 
 Gus De Smith called at a very fashionable house 
 on Austin Avenue a few days ago, and acted so 
 queerly that when the lady's husband came home 
 she said : '' What is the matter with young De 
 Smith ? He acted so strangely ; I think there must 
 be a screw loose about him somewhere." ** Reckon 
 not. I saw him this morning and he was tight all 
 over." 
 
 — They were raised here in Austin, but she did 
 not know much about gardening ; at the same time, 
 she did not care to expose her ignorance to her hus- 
 band. They had only been married a short time, 
 when he said : " I notice the asparagus is about 
 ripe — don't you want to go out into the garden and 
 get some } " She replied : " I '11 tell you what we 
 will do. We will go out together. You climb up 
 and shake the tree, and I '11 catch them in my apron 
 as they fall." 
 
 — A prominent citizen of Austin, whose name we 
 suppress on account of his family, wiped his eyes on 
 reading an account of the Iowa cyclone, and turning 
 to the barkeeper, said : " Most terrible affair I ever 
 heard of. My heart bleeds for 'em. Not a saloon 
 left standing in the whole town. Gimme another 
 sour toddy." 
 
 — " Did you bathe while you were in Galveston } " 
 asked Gilhooly, of a Colonel Yerger, who had just 
 
NEWSPAPER WITS. 465 
 
 returned from a visit to the island city. " Oh, yes, 
 I bathed several times." " How did you find the 
 water.-*" "No trouble finding the water. The 
 street cars take you right down to it. You can't 
 miss the water. It's all around the island." 
 
 — An Austin teacher was explaining fractions to 
 a rather dull boy. " Now, suppose you and your lit- 
 tle sister were under a tree, and you found a peach, 
 and you wanted her to have as much as you, how 
 would you go about it } " " Shake down another 
 peach out of the tree, and give her the littlest one." 
 
 — A prominent granger from Onion Creek was in 
 Austin, yesterday. Desiring to obtain some relia- 
 ble figures about the oat crop, we asked him if he 
 could tell us precisely how many acres he had in 
 oats and how many bushels he raised to the acre. 
 " I can't give you the precise figures, but I raised a 
 heap, sold right smart, and I 've got a powerful lot 
 left." 
 
 — " When did George Washington die .'* " asked an 
 Austin teacher of a large boy. " Is he dead } " was 
 the astonished reply. " Why, it is not more than six 
 months ago that they were celebrating his birthday, 
 and now he is dead. It's a bad year on children. 
 I reckon his folks let him eat something that did n't 
 agree with him." 
 
 — A new novel is announced, " The Colonel's 
 Cross." What the mischief is the colonel cross 
 about ? Have the saloon-keepers combined to deny 
 him credit ? 
 
 — No Fourth of July orator should attempt to 
 speak until he has tested his lungs with a lung 
 tester. A lawyer tested his lungs on one in New 
 York, and died in five minutes. 
 
 30 
 
466 ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN LIFE. 
 
 — Some traits run in families. Shakespeare's 
 father, being iUiterate, made his mark. So did 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 IV. 
 
 ALBERT ROBERTS. 
 
 "John Happy," a pseudonym which is affectionately familiar to 
 Southern people, stands for Albert Roberts, who has long ago fore- 
 gone humor and turned his genius into "the peaceful and ennobling 
 paths of avarice," being, as a matter of fact. President of the Ameri- 
 can Newspaper and Publishing Company, of Nashville, Tennessee. 
 Twenty years ago he was the liveliest of the young journalists of the 
 South ; and did more to brighten the camp-fires of both armies dur- 
 ing the great sectional war than any of his contemporaries. Un- 
 luckily, the more humorous of his comicalities were destroyed in the 
 burned-up files of the " Chattanooga Rebel " and the " Montgomery 
 Mail," upon each of which journals he was engaged in an editorial 
 capacity. The following amusing parody upon General Lytle's " An- 
 thony and Cleopatra " is characteristic, and recalls a most amusing 
 aspect of the conflict on the Southern side. 
 
 "I'M CONSCRIPTED, SMITH, CONSCRIPTED." 
 
 NOT BY GEN. WM. B. LYTLE, " OR ANY OTHER MAN." 
 
 I 'm conscripted, Smith, conscripted. 
 
 Ebbs the subterfuges fast, 
 And the sub-enrolling marshals 
 
 Gather with the evening blast. 
 Let thine arms, O ! Smith, support me, 
 
 Hush your gab and close your ear, 
 Conscript-grabbers close upon you, 
 
 Hunting for you — far and near. 
 
 Though my scarred, rheumatic " trotters 
 
 Bear me limping short no more, 
 And my shattered constitution 
 
 Won't exempt me as before ; — 
 Though the Provost Guard surround me, 
 
 Prompt to do their master's will. 
 i must to the " front " to perish, 
 
 Die the great conscripted still. 
 
 n 
 
NEWSPAPER WITS. 467 
 
 Let not the seizer's sen-ile minions 
 
 Mock the lion thus laid low ! 
 'T was no fancy drink that "slewed " him^ 
 
 Whiskey straight-out struck the blow. 
 Here, then, pillowed on thy bosom, 
 
 Ere he 's hurried quite away, 
 ,Him, who, drunk with bust-head whiskey, 
 
 Madly threw himself away. 
 
 Should the base, plebeian rabble 
 
 Dare assail me as I roam, 
 Seek my noble squaw Octavia, 
 
 Weeping in her widowed home ; 
 Seek her, say the guards have got me 
 
 Under their protecting wings, 
 Going to make me join the army, 
 
 Where the shell and Minie sings. 
 
 I 'm conscripted, Smith — conscripted — 
 
 Hark ! you hear that Grabber's cry — 
 Run, old Smith, my boy, they '11 catch you ! 
 
 Take you to the front to die. 
 Fare thee well ! I go to battle, 
 
 There to die, decay, and swell, 
 Lockhart and Dick Taylor guard thee, 
 
 Sweet Octavia — Smith ! — farewell ! 
 
 "CHIP'S" NURSES. 
 
 Suffering little children to come unto the under- 
 signed, — for of such is the despotism of marriage, 
 — a '* daughter, passing fair," hath recently blessed 
 the house of Happy and shed a profusion of felici- 
 tous sunshine about his hearthstone. She was 
 eleven months old yesterday ; weighs twenty-two 
 pounds avoirdupois in her stocking feet ; is consid- 
 ered by her godmothers to be a miniature fac- 
 simile of the subscriber, and, being a literal " chip 
 off the old block," we call her " Chip" for short, and 
 for the sake of euphony. 
 
468 ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN LIFE. 
 
 Chip's adventures in search of a nurse would 
 make up a volume of romantic perplexities, to the 
 truth of which the fiction of *' Japhet in search of a 
 Father" would be but a complete stranger. It was 
 unfortunate for Chip that she happened to step into 
 existence when the African theory of earning the 
 bread by the sweat of the brow meant to pick up 
 an occasional crumb wherever it happened to be ly- 
 ing round loose, and performing the least amount 
 of service for the largest amount of wages, at semi- 
 occasional periods. 
 
 The demoralized condition of the labor system 
 of this unreconstructed "Paradise Regained" is no- 
 where so manifest as among the she-Africans. 
 Worthless as the " man-and-brother " may have be- 
 come, the ** woman-and-sister " is the very climax 
 of utter and absurd worthlessness. There seems to 
 be a generous spirit of emulation among the she ne- 
 groes to see which of them can procure the greatest 
 number of new " situations " within a year, and the 
 peculiar forte of the African " fair seek," as Josh 
 Billings would phrase it, is a persistently frequent 
 change of base. 
 
 In her brief but brilliant career Chip has had not 
 less than seven nurses to minister to her infant 
 needs and threaten the dislocation of her neck by 
 spilling her out of street windows whenever the 
 circus-wagon goes by. She has had niggers of every 
 conceivable size, variety, and shade of complexion, 
 and of every species of physical deformity known to 
 the science of anatomy. These have been hump- 
 backed niggers and sway-backed, blind niggers and 
 halt, deaf niggers and dumb, to attend her along 
 the paths of perilous babyhood. 
 
NEWSPAPER WITS. 46g 
 
 Her first ** maid of honor " was an African ref- 
 ugee, secured in the inmost recesses of Dixie and 
 brought back to Brownlow fairy-land upon the fan- 
 cied return of peace. This nurse was made a re- 
 luctant exile from her native heath at the evacuation 
 of Nashville, and was only too glad to " accept the 
 situation in good faith " which we offered her, in 
 order to get back home. The peculiarity of this, the 
 first of Chip's sable satellites, was a reticence not less 
 marvelous than that of General Grant, with a pas- 
 sion for curling Chip's hair that was quite as inor- 
 dinate as that of Ulysses for imported cigars. She 
 remained in our service long enough to secure her 
 passage home and then basely deserted us. Our 
 next acquisition was a species of Guinea nigger with 
 a cocoa-nut head done up in a rag, with hands as 
 horny as the tail of a crocodile, and a pair of arms, 
 on the skin of which a lucifer match could have been 
 lighted at a single stroke. Her habit was to sleep 
 with Chip in her lap, and to nod over the prostrate 
 form of our infant prodigy, like a Chinese autom- 
 aton, to the infinity amazement and consternation 
 of Happiness, Jr. When not enjoying this perpen- 
 dicular siesta, this nurse was gifted with a loquacious- 
 ness irrepressible, and she finally became so great 
 a sleeping and talking nuisance that we were com- 
 pelled to dispense with her valuable services, and 
 she returned to the happy hunting-grounds of femi- 
 nine Africa, within the precincts of classic Hell's- 
 Half-Acre. The last I saw of her was upon the 
 summit of a mountain of stone in the work-house, 
 which she was reducing to macadamized pulveriza- 
 tion with a penitential hc^mmer. 
 
 Disgusted with the African population, we con- 
 
470 ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN LIFE. 
 
 eluded to experiment with the Anglo-Saxon race, 
 and accordingly advertised for a white nurse. Out 
 of a multitude of very unprepossessing material we 
 selected a feminine morceaic rejoicing in the name 
 of Mrs. Berkley and a preponderance of flesh ag- 
 gregating two hundred and fifty pounds, gross. It 
 took about a week to get Berkley and her bedclothes 
 transported beneath the sheltering aegis of *' Rural 
 Felicity Cottage," and it only took half an hour to 
 banish her forever from that rustic Paradise. A 
 proposition on the part of Berkley, of the one part, 
 to cure the baby of colic by holding it suspended by 
 the heels, with its head down, so horrified the ma- 
 ternal solicitude of Mrs. H., of the other part, that 
 Berkley became immediately unpopular ; but the 
 discovery on the part of the undersigned, on the one 
 part, of sundry fragments of long sandy hair of the 
 complexion of Berkley's, on the other part, in the 
 Hair-brush of the subscriber, at once sealed the des- 
 tiny of Berkley, and she was paid off and politely 
 required to let the earth hide her. 
 
 Berkley was succeeded by a mahogany complex- 
 ioned nurse, who, having a disposition to giggle 
 aloud, and shout, and make facial contortions to 
 frighten her infant charge, would have done well 
 enouo-h until a better could be substituted. But 
 ** her mother wanted her," she said, to '' go to 
 skewl." Her successor, secured after a long and 
 piinful search, only remained with us a couple of 
 hours. Remarking, incidentally, to another of the 
 domestic retainers of the undersigned, as she was 
 building a fire, *' of this warn't ad — d lonely ole 
 hole," it was considered that such a familiarity with 
 the choicest expletives of our chaste language fitted 
 
NEWSPAPER WITS. 47 1 
 
 her, perhaps, for a livelier sphere. She was, there- 
 fore, invited to 'Might out," or else she would be 
 thrown out of a two-story window by the scruff of 
 the neck or the seat of her pantaloons — if she had 
 any. 
 
 The next nurse was as black as four black cats on 
 the rim of a well in the darkest midnight of the 
 season. She was so dark that the baby could n't see 
 her even by the firelight, except when she opened 
 her mouth, and then her teeth were so white, that 
 her smile was Hke the fitful flash of the fire-fly's 
 phosphorescent tail, or a gleam of heat lightning 
 on a ground of storm clouds. This African rarely 
 articulated, and it was some time before we dis- 
 covered that she possessed the gift of speech. One 
 stereotyped ejaculation of hers for entertaining Chip 
 was the simple but startling interrogatory of — 
 " Where 's the chickey .-^ " Chip has been in a won- 
 dering state of expectancy ever since, as if she ex- 
 pected *' the chickey " to start up out of the Swiss 
 clock, or flap its wings from the glowing embers of 
 the hearthstone. 
 
 Our " business relations " with this reticent Cleo- 
 patra were incontinently severed by reason of the 
 fact that she set Chip on a chair and forgot where 
 she placed her, until the latter attracted her atten- 
 tion, by striking the floor with her infant head, in 
 a foolish effort to throw a double somersault from 
 her dangerous perch. The entire household was, of 
 course, aroused by this fall and the instantly suc- 
 ceeding lamentations of Chip, whose nurse in an ex- 
 planatory sort of way exclaimed, '' Godlemity bres 
 de chile — she done frow hersef outen de cheer," 
 then snatching her up, with affected sympathy, to 
 
4/2 ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN LIFE. 
 
 appease, by that eloquent " pantomimicry " our 
 paternal and maternal indignation, she soothingly 
 screamed again and again, " wher's de chicky f " We 
 lost confidence in her from that hour. 
 
 " Cassionicuss," we said to her, "■ no more be 
 officeress of our'n ! — avaunt and quit these pres- 
 ents." It is needless to add that she " avaunted," as 
 soon as she received her perdiem, and the monotone 
 of *'wher's de chicky" no longer echoes in "the 
 home of the brave and the house of the free ! " 
 
 Our last experiment in search of a nurse is "the 
 present incumbent," a little nigger about as big as a 
 piece of charcoal — romantically called " Lizziney," 
 and as deaf as a door-knob. The only remark that 
 she has ever addressed to "Chip" is a monitory 
 " Psh — sh!" and, to the author of Chip's being: 
 ^^ She 's crorled from the hath to the dinin-ivom 
 dore ! " 
 
 Speaking of the Athenaeum, what do you think of 
 the following lines } Very graceful, certainly. They 
 appeared in the Atlanta " Confederacy's " descrip- 
 tion of the tableaux of " The Judgment of Paris," 
 given at the first entertainment by some of the ladies 
 of the city for the benefit of Morgan's command : — 
 
 Ah ! stars and moon — refuse to shine ; 
 
 The gods themselves must see it is 
 In vain to eclipse, with light of thine, 
 
 These mythologic deities, 
 Though Paris, with a god-like air 
 
 May spurn the earth he trod as his — 
 Yet still we deem no " judgment " fair 
 
 Between such rival goddesses. 
 
NEWSPAPER WITS. d^'Jl 
 
 II. 
 
 Sure Juno, with her regal brow 
 
 And coronet begemming it, 
 Wore charm that should have won — we trow — 
 
 Yet Paris knelt, condemning it. 
 The knave ! to pass such beauties by — 
 
 Perhaps his passion blinded him ; 
 Or else, the light in Venus' eye ; 
 
 Of other charms reminded him. 
 
 III. 
 
 And Pallas, with her glittering helm 
 
 And wealth of jetty tresses too ; 
 The fairest in th' Olympian realm 
 
 To pay a god's addresses to. 
 Ah ! Paris, fickle-minded cove ! 
 
 Thus slightingly to serve her so ! 
 Yet, by the teeming brain of Jove — 
 
 She looked the true Minerva, though. 
 
 IV. 
 
 But see, upon his bended knee, 
 
 The shepherd judge between us is ; 
 Aside — and yet between the three. 
 
 And near to where sweet Venus is ! 
 Aloft is poised the golden prize — 
 
 An arm is poised to receive it, too — » 
 The smile that beams in Venus' eyes 
 
 Tells whom he means to give it to. 
 
A TRIO OF OLD ODDITIES. 
 
 1 CANNOT better close these examples of what I may call the news- 
 paper oddities of the South, than by recalling a trio of the most nota- 
 ble stories which have gone the rounds of the American press the last 
 forty years, which yet linger on the stage, appearing and reappearing 
 at intervals, as if to take a fresh lease of life, and which are thor- 
 oughly characteristic, in tone, color, and action, of the era to which 
 "we owe Simon Suggs and Sut Lovingood. " Cousin Sally Billiard " 
 antedates ^'Georgia Scenes," having been contributed somewhere in 
 ithe thirties to a North Carolina newspaper, by Hamilton C. Jones, a 
 lawyer of eminence in his day and generation. " Guilty — but Drunk," 
 might be a leaf directly out of " Georgia Scenes." It is labelled by 
 Burton, 1840, and credited to a Colonel Bradbury, in all likelihood a 
 sobriquet. " A Harp of a Thousand Strings " appeared, originally, 
 in 1855, in a newspaper of Brandon, Mississippi. Its authorship has 
 ibeen variously ascribed ; but, if it has ever been definitely ascer- 
 tained, or if any one has claimed its paternity, I am ignorant of the 
 fact. I give the stories va the order of their birth, beginning with 
 
 I. 
 
 COUSIN SALLY BILLIARD. 
 SCENE: A COURT OF JUSTICE IN NORTH CAROLINA. 
 
 A BEARDLESS disciplc of Thcmis rises, and thus 
 addresses the Court : " May it please your Worships, 
 and you. Gentlemen of the Jury, since it has been 
 my fortune (good or bad, I will not say) to exercise 
 myself in legal disquisitions, it has never befallen 
 me to be obliged to prosecute so direful, marked, 
 and malicious an assault — a more willful, violent, 
 dangerous battery — and finally, a more diabolical 
 
A TRIO OF OLD ODDITIES. 475 
 
 breach of the peace, has seldom happened in a civ- 
 iHzed country ; and I dare say it has seldom been 
 your duty to pass upon one so shocking to benevo- 
 lent feelings, as this which took place over at Cap- 
 tain Rice's, in this county. But you will hear from 
 the witnesses. 
 
 The witnesses being sworn, two or three were ex- 
 amined and deposed. One said that he heard the 
 noise, and did not see the fight ; another that he 
 seen the row, but did n't know who struck first ; 
 and a third, that he was very drunk, and couldn't 
 say much about the skrimmage. 
 
 Lawyer Chops. I am sorry, gentlemen, to have oc- 
 cupied your time with the stupidity of the witnesses 
 examined. It arises, gentlemen, altogether from 
 misapprehension on my part. Had I known, as I 
 now do, that I had a witness in attendance who was 
 well acquainted with all the circumstances of the 
 case, and who was able to make himself clearly un- 
 derstood by the court and jury, I should not so long 
 have trespassed upon your time and patience. Come 
 forward, Mr. Harris, and be sworn. 
 
 So forward comes the witness, a fat, shuffy old 
 man, a '* leetle " corned, and took his oath with an 
 air. 
 
 Chops. Harris, we wish you to tell all about the 
 riot that happened the other day at Captain Rice's ; 
 and as a good deal of time has already been wasted 
 in circumlocution, we wish you to be compendious, 
 and at the same time as explicit, as possible. 
 
 Harris. Adzactly (giving the lawyer a knowing 
 wink, and at the same time clearing his throat). 
 Captain Rice, he gin a treat, and cousin Sally Bil- 
 liard, she came over to our house and axed me if ni); 
 
 1^ 
 
476 ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN LIFE. 
 
 wife she mout n't go ? I told cousin Sally Billiard 
 that my wife was poorly, being as how she had a 
 touch of the rheumatics in the hip, and the big 
 swamp was in the road and the big swamp was up, 
 for there had been a heap of rain lately ; but how- 
 somever, as it was she, cousin Sally Billiard, my wife 
 she mout go. Well, cousin Sally Billiard then axed 
 me if Mose he mout n't go ? I told cousin Sally Bil- 
 liard that he was the foreman of the crap, and the 
 crap was smartly in the grass ; but howsomever as 
 it was she, cousin Sally Billiard, Mose he mout 
 go — 
 
 Chops. In the name of common sense, Mr. Har- 
 ris, what do you mean by this rigmarole ? 
 
 Witness. Captain Rice, he gin a treat, and cousin 
 Sally Billiard she came over to our house and axed 
 me if my wife she mout n't go .'* I told cousin Sally 
 Bilhard — 
 
 Chops. Stop, sir, if you please ; we don't want to 
 hear anything about your cousin Sally Billiard and 
 your wife. Tell us about the fight at Rice's. 
 
 Witness. Well, I will, sir, if you will let me. 
 
 Chops. Well, sir, go on. 
 
 Witness. Well, sir, Captain Rice he gin a treat, 
 and cousin Sally Billiard she came over to our house 
 and axed me if my wife she mout n't go — 
 
 Chops. There it is again. Witness, please to 
 stop. 
 
 Witness. Well, sir, what do you want } 
 
 Chops. We want to know about the fight, and you 
 must not proceed in this impertinent story. Bo you 
 know anything about the matter before the court .'* 
 
 Witness. To be sure I do. 
 
 Chops. Well, go on and tell it, and nothing else. 
 
A TRIO OF OLD ODDITIES. ^yy 
 
 Witness. Well, Captain Rice, he gin a treat, — 
 
 Chops. This is intolerable. May it please the 
 Court, I move that this witness be committed for a 
 contempt ; he seems to be trifling with this court. 
 
 Court, Witness, you are now before a court of 
 justice, and unless you behave yourself in a more 
 becoming manner, you will be sent to jail ; so begin 
 and tell what you know about the fight at Captain 
 Rice's. 
 
 IVit/iess, [alarmed.] Well, gentlemen, Captain 
 Rice, he gin a treat, and cousin Sally Billiard — 
 
 Chops. I hope the witness may be ordered into 
 custody. 
 
 Court [after deliberating.] Mr. Attorney, the 
 Court is of the opinion that we may save time by 
 telling witness to go on in his own way. Proceed, 
 Mr. Harris, with your story, but stick to the point. 
 
 Witness. Yes, gentlemen. Well, Captain Rice, 
 he gin a treat, and cousin Sally Billiard she came 
 over to our house and asked me if my wife she mout 
 go } I told cousin Sally Billiard that my wife she was 
 poorly, being as how she had the rheumatics in the 
 hip, and the big swamp was up ; but hovvsomever, as 
 it was she, cousin Sally Billiard, my wife she mout 
 go. Well, cousin Sally Billiard then axed me if 
 Mose he mout n't go. I told cousin Sally Billiard 
 as how Mose — he was the foreman of the crap, and 
 the crap was smartly in the grass — but howsomever, 
 as it was she, cousin Sally Billiard, Mose he mout 
 go. So they goes on together, Mose, my wife, and 
 cousin Sally Billiard, and they come to the big 
 swamp, and it was up, as I was telling you ; but be- 
 ing as how there was a log across the big swamp, 
 cousin Sally Billiard and Mose, like genteel folks, 
 
4/8 ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN LIFE. 
 
 they walked the log ; but my wife, like a darned fool, 
 hoisted her coats and waded through. And that's 
 all I kjiow about t lie fight. 
 
 II. 
 
 GUILTY — BUT DRUNK. 
 
 Many years ago, while the State of Georgia was 
 still in its infancy, an eccentric creature named 
 Brown was one of its circuit judges. He was a 
 man of ability, of inflexible integrity, and beloved 
 and respected by all the legal profession. But he 
 had one fault. His social qualities would lead him, 
 despite his judgment, into occasional excesses. In 
 traveling the circuit, it was his habit, the night be- 
 fore opening court, to get "comfortably corned." 
 If he could n't succeed while operating upon his own 
 hook, the members of the bar would generally turn 
 in and help him. 
 
 It was in the spring of the year ; taking his wife 
 in the old-fashioned carryall, the Judge journeyed 
 some forty miles, and reached a village where court 
 was to be opened the next day. He took quarters 
 with a relation of his better half, by whom the pres- 
 ence of an official dignitary was considered a high 
 honor. After supper, he strolled over to the only 
 tavern in the town, where he found many oid friends, 
 called to the place, like himself, on important pro- 
 fessional business, and who were properly glad to 
 meet him. 
 
 "Gentlemen," said the Judge, " 't is quite a long 
 time since we have enjoyed a glass together. Let 
 us take a drink all round. Of course, Sterritt (ad- 
 dressing the landlord), you have better liquor than 
 
A TRIO OF OLD ODDITIES. 479 
 
 you had the last time we were here ; the stuff you had 
 then was not fit to give a dog ! " 
 
 Sterritt, who had charge of the house, pretended 
 that everything was right, and so they went to 
 work. It is unnecessary to enlarge upon a drinking 
 bout in a country tavern ; it will quite answer our 
 purpose to state that somewhere in the region of 
 midnight the Judge wended his very devious way 
 towards his temporary home. About the time he 
 was leaving, however, some younger barristers, fond 
 of a " practical," and not much afraid of the bench, 
 transferred all the silver spoons of Sterritt to the 
 Judge's coat pocket. 
 
 It was eight o'clock Monday morning that the 
 Judge rose. Having indulged in the process of ab- 
 lution and abstersion, and partaken of a cheerful and 
 refreshing breakfast, he went to his room to prepare 
 himself for the duties of the day. 
 
 "Well, Polly," said he to his wife, "I feel much 
 better than I expected to feel after that frolic of last 
 night." 
 
 " Ah, Judge," said she, reproachfully, " you are 
 getting too old ; you ought to teave off that busi- 
 ness." 
 
 "Ah, Polly ! what 's the use of talking ? " 
 
 It was at this precise instant that the Judge, hav- 
 ing put on his overcoat, was proceeding, according 
 to his custom, to give his wife a parting kiss, that 
 he happened, in thrusting his hand into his pocket, 
 to lay hold of Sterritt's spoons. He jerked them out 
 With an expression of horror he exclaimed, — 
 
 " My God ! Polly ! " 
 
 " What on earth 's the matter, Judge t " 
 
 ** Just look at these spoons ! " 
 
480 ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN LIFE. 
 
 *' Dear me, where d'ye get them ? " 
 " Get them ? Don't you see the initials on them ? " 
 — extending them towards her — '' I stole them I " 
 " Stole them, Judge ? " 
 **Yes, stole them !" 
 
 " My dear husband, it can't be possible ! from 
 whom ? " 
 
 " From Sterritt, over there ; his name is on 
 them." 
 
 " Good heavens ! how could it happen ? " 
 
 ** I know very well, Polly — I was very arunk 
 when I came home, wasn't I ? " 
 
 " Why, Judge, you know your old habit when you 
 get among those lawyers." 
 
 "■ But was I very drunk ? " 
 
 *' Yes, yoiL was." 
 
 " Was I remarkably drunk when I got home, Mrs. 
 Brown .? " 
 
 " Yes, Judge, drunk as a fool, and forty times as 
 stupid." 
 
 *' I thought so," said the Judge, dropping into a 
 chair in extreme despondency. " I knew it would 
 come to that, at last. I have always thought that 
 something bad would happen to me : that I should 
 do something very wrong ; kill somebody in a mo- 
 ment of passion, perhaps ; but I never imagined 
 that I could be mean enough to be guilty of delib- 
 erate larceny ! " 
 
 " But, there may be some mistake, Judge } " 
 
 " No mistake, Polly. I know very well how it all 
 came about. That fellow, Sterritt, keeps the mean- 
 est sort of liquor, and always did ; liquor mean 
 enough to make a man do any sort of a mean thing. 
 I have always said it was mean enough to make a 
 
A TRIO OF OLD ODDITIES. 48 1 
 
 man steal, and now I have a practical illustration of 
 the fact ! " and the poor old man burst into tears. 
 
 " Don't be a child," said his wife, wiping away the 
 tears. '* Go like a man, over to Sterritt, tell him it 
 was a little bit of a frolic. Pass it off as a joke; 
 go and open court, and nobody will ever think of it 
 again." 
 
 A little of the soothing system operated upon the 
 Judge, as such things usually do ; his extreme mor- 
 tification was finally subdued, and over to Sterritt's 
 he went with a tolerable face. Of course, he had 
 but little difficulty in settling with him ; for aside 
 from the fact that the Judge's integrity was unques- 
 tionable, Sterritt had an inkling of the joke that had 
 been played. The Judge took his seat in court ; 
 but it was observed that he was subdued and mel- 
 ancholy, and that his mind frequently wandered 
 from the business before him. There was a lack of 
 the sense and intelligence that usually characterized 
 his proceedings. 
 
 Several days passed and the business of the court 
 was drawing towards a close, when one morning 
 a tough citizen was arraigned on a charge of steal- 
 ing. After the clerk had read the indictment to 
 him, he put the question : — 
 
 '' Guilty, or not guilty } " 
 
 *' Guilty — bitt dricnk^' answered the prisoner. 
 
 " What 's that plea } " exclaimed the Judge, who 
 was half dozing on the bench. 
 
 *' He pleads guilty, but says he was drunk," re- 
 plied the clerk. 
 
 "What 's the charge against the man 1 " 
 
 " He is indicted for grand larceny." 
 
 " What 's the case > " 
 31 
 
482 ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN LIFE. 
 
 " May it please your honor," said the prosecuting 
 attorney, " the man is regularly indicted for stealing 
 a large sum from the Columbus Hotel." 
 
 " He is, hey ? and he pleads " — 
 
 "He pleads guilty, but drunk ! " 
 
 The Judge was now fully aroused. 
 
 "■ Guilty, but driuik ! That is a most extraordi- 
 nary plea. Young man, you are certain you were 
 drunk.-* " 
 
 " Yes, sir." 
 
 *' Where did you get your liquor ? " 
 
 ^' At Sterritt's." 
 
 " Did get none nowhere else ? " 
 
 " Not a drop, sir." 
 
 ''You got drunk on his liquor, and afterwards 
 stole his money t " 
 
 "Yes, sir." 
 
 "Mr. Prosecutor," said the Judge, "do me the 
 favor to enter a nolle prosequi in that man's case, 
 That liquor of Sterritt's is mean enough to make a 
 man do anything dirty. The court got drunk on it 
 the other day and stole all of Stcrritfs spoons ! Release 
 the prisoner, Mr. Sheriff ; I adjourn the court." 
 
 HI. 
 
 "the harp of a thousand strings." 
 
 " I may say to yo, my brethering, that I am not an 
 edecated man, an I am not one o' them that beleeves 
 edecation is necessary for a gospel minister, fur I 
 beleeve the Lord edecates his preachers jest as he 
 wants 'em to be edecated ; and although I say it 
 that oughtn't to say it, yet in the State of Indianny, 
 whar I live, thar 's no man as gits a bigger congrega- 
 tion nor what I gits. 
 
A TRIO OF OLD ODDITIES. 483 
 
 " Thar may be some here to-day, my brethering 
 as don't know what persuasion I am uv. Well, I 
 may say to you, my brethering, that I am a Hard- 
 shell Baptist. Thar's some folks as don't like the 
 Hard-Shell Baptists, but I 'd rather hev a hard shell 
 as no shell at all. You see me here to-day, my 
 brethering, dressed up in fine close ; you mout think 
 I was proud, but I am not proud, my brethering; 
 and although I 've been a preacher uv the gospel for 
 twenty years, and although I 'm capting uv that flat- 
 boat that lies at your landing, I 'm not proud, my 
 brethering. 
 
 " I 'm not gwine ter tell you edzackly whar my tex 
 may be found : suffice it tu say, it 's in the leds of 
 the Bible, and you '11 find it somewhar 'tween the 
 fust chapter of the book of Generation, and the last 
 chapter of the book of Revolutions, and ef you '11 go 
 and sarch the Scripturs, you '11 not only find my tex 
 thar, but a great many other texes as will do you 
 good to read ; and my tex, when you shill find it, 
 you shill find it to read thus : — 
 
 " ' And he played on a harp uv a thousand strings — sperits of just 
 men made perfeck.' 
 
 " My tex, brethren, leads me to speak uv sperits. 
 Now thar's a great many kind of sperits in the 
 world. In the fust place, thar 's the sperits as som 
 folks call ghosts ; then thar 's the sperits uv turpen- 
 tUne ; and then thar 's the sperits as some folks call 
 liquor, and I 've got as good artikel uv them kind uv 
 sperits on my flat-boat as ever was fetched down the 
 Mississippi River ; but thar 's a great many other 
 kind of sperits, for the tex says : * He played on a 
 harp uv a ///^//-sand strings — sperits of just men 
 made perfeck.* 
 
484 ODDITIES IN SOUTHERN LIFE. 
 
 " But I '11 tell you the kind of sperits as is ment in 
 the tex : it's fire. That is the kind of sperits as is 
 ment in the tex, my brethering. Now thar 's a great 
 many kinds of fire in the world. In the fust place, 
 thar 's the common sort uv fire you light a segar or 
 pipe with, and then thar 's camfire, fire before you 're 
 ready to fall back, and many other kinds uv fire, for 
 the tex ses : * He played on a harp uv a //^(?^/-sand 
 strings — sperits uv just men made perfeck.' 
 
 " But I '11 tell you the kind of fire as is ment in the 
 tex, my brethering — it 's Jicllfirc I an' that 's the 
 kind of fire as a great many of you '11 come to, ef you 
 don't do better nor what you have bin doin' — for 
 * He played on a harp uv a thoii-?>di\'\d strings — sper- 
 its of just men made perfeck.' 
 
 *' Now, the different sorts uv fire in the world may 
 be likened unto the different persuasions in the 
 world. In the first place, we have the ' Piscapalions, 
 and they are a high salin' and a highfalutin' set, and 
 they may be likened unto a turkey-buzzard, that flies 
 up into the air, and he goes up and up till he looks 
 no bigger than your finger-nail and the fust thing 
 you know, he cums down and down, and is a fillin' 
 himself on the karkiss of a dead boss by the side uv 
 the road — and * He played on a harp uv a //2<??/-sand 
 strings — sperits of just men made perfeck.' 
 
 '' And then, thar 's the Methodis, and they may 
 be likened unto the squirrel, runnin' up into a tree, 
 for the Methodis believes in gwine on from one de- 
 gree uv grace to another, and finally on to perfec- 
 shun ; and the squirrel goes up and up, and he jumps 
 from lim' to lim', and branch to branch, and the fust 
 thing you know, he falls, and down he comes ker- 
 flummux ; and that 's like the Methodis, for they is 
 
A TRIO OF OLD ODDITIES. 485 
 
 allers fallin' from grace, ah ! And ' He played on a 
 harp of a //?^//-sand strings — sperits of just men 
 made perfeck.' 
 
 " And then, my brethering, thar 's the Baptist, ah ! 
 and they hev bin Hkened unto a possum on a 'sim- 
 mon tree, and the thunders may roll, and then the 
 earth may quake, but that possum clings there still, 
 ah ! And you may shake one foot loose, and the 
 other's thar ; and you may shake all feet loose, and 
 he laps his tail around the lim', and he chngs fur- 
 ever — for ' He played on a harp of a tJiou-^dSidi 
 strings — sperits of just men make perfeck.'"