"Stop a little, Nick," said I.
Nick came to a halt, and we talked in low tones; we could see a hundred yards in every direction.
"Where does that road go?" I asked.
"Dat road," said Nick, pointing to the left; "hit goes to ole Young's Mill."
"How far is old Young's Mill?"
"I dunno ezackly; I reckon 'bout fo' mile."
"Where does the right-hand lead?"
"Hit goes to Mis Cheeseman's," said Nick; "en' at Mis Cheeseman's dey is calvry, on' at ole Young's Mill dey is calvry, but dey is on de yudda side o' de creek."
"How far is it to Mrs. Cheeseman's?"
"I dunno ezackly; I reckon 'bout fo' mile."