In personal appearance he was small, but muscular and wiry. He was far from handsome; a pug nose, set between a pair of gooseberry eyes, a long, straight mouth, a head of hair in which sandy red and iron gray were mixed together, did not give him a very fascinating aspect. He rarely smiled, but when he did, his smile was expressive of the deepest cunning.
Uncle Obed had one grievous fault—an unhappy propensity for acquiring the property of others—"a natural proclivity," as General Pillow says, to stealing. The Spartans thought there was no harm in stealing—in fact that it was rather meritorious than otherwise, providing that it was never found out; and both in theory and practice, Uncle Obed was a thorough Spartan. A few of his exploits in this way will serve to show his extraordinary 'cuteness.
A neighbor of his had a black heifer with a white face, which occasionally made irruptions into Uncle Obed's pasturage. One evening, Obed made a seizure of her, and tied her up in his barn. He then went to the owner of the animal.
"Mr. Stagg," said he, "there's been a cantankerous heifer a breaking into my lot, and I've been a lookin' for her, and I've cotched her at last."
"Well," said the unconscious Mr. Stagg, "I 'spose you're going to drive her to the pound."
"No, I ain't," answered Uncle Obed, with the smile we have alluded to, "I know a trick worth two of that. I'm going to kill her; and if you won't say nothing to nobody, but'll come up to-night and help me, you shall hev the horns and hide for your trouble."
"Done," said Mr. Stagg. "I'll come."
In the mean time, Uncle Obed took a pot of black paint, and covered the white face of the heifer, so as to prevent recognition. The neighbor came up at night, and helped despatch his own "critter," receiving the horns and hide for his pay, and laughing with Obed to think how cleverly the owner had been "done."
The next day he missed his heifer, and called on Obed to ask if he had seen her.
"I hain't seen her to-day," replied Uncle Obed, "but if you'll go to the tannery, where you sold that hide, and 'll just take the trouble to overhaul it, Mr. Stagg, prehaps you'll find out where your heifer is."