"You see I didn't tell no lie; he didn't ask me if they would pick cotton, but he ask if they cud, an' I up an' says they cud, but I didn't say they's that shiftless that they won't do it."
"You see I didn't tell no lie."
In the mail which I found when I got home I had a letter from a friend referring to an adventure which I had four years ago that I do not think I ever wrote down, so now I am going to do so, for I forget things so entirely. My friend had come from New York to make me a visit of a week. At the end of that time, wishing to be with her as long as possible, I drove her to Gregory in the buckboard to take the train. The train left at 4:30, which in the latter part of December is very nearly dark.
I had taken Jonadab behind the buckboard. When I started on the fourteen mile drive home, I felt dismayed, for I knew it would be dark soon. I crossed the ferry with the last light of the dusk and drove on into blackness.
I had only gone a little way, however, when we drove into a forest fire. Both sides of the road were aflame and Ruth at first was frightened, but finding it did not come into the broad, white, sandy road, she soon enjoyed the illumination as I did.
For about three miles we passed through this brilliant region, and then I saw we were coming to the end of it and would soon be in the darkness again, so I told Dab to get out and pick up a good piece of lightwood for a torch and light it, which he did, succeeding in a very short time in getting a long, fat piece full of turpentine, and just before we left the fields of light he lit it and held it behind so that it gave a very satisfactory path of light just ahead of the horse.
All went well until we came to a turn in the road where we had two bridges to cross and I feared, as they were narrow and without railing, that I might not see well enough, so I told Dab to get out and carry the torch in front until we crossed the bridges. This he did, walking quite rapidly, so that just after we crossed the last bridge the torch blew out; the rapid motion somehow being in front, made too much draught. Dab was much concerned, but I said:—
"It does not matter now, Dab, we are only three miles from home and I know every foot of the road; get up behind and we will soon be at home."