“O, you will hear plenty of such stories when we get to Uncle Joe’s,” said Frank. “But I will tell you of an adventure which happened to my uncle, who was a young lawyer at the time, settled in St. Louis;” and Frank, after rearranging his blanket commenced as follows:
CHAPTER II.
An Unpleasant Companion.
“
IT was one bright evening, in the fall of 18—,” said my uncle, “while I was traveling on horseback through the northern part of Missouri, that I reined up before a pleasant little tavern, where I purposed to stop for the night. The landlord, a bustling little Englishman, soon had supper ready for me, and as I had not eaten a mouthful since morning, I sat down to it with a most ravenous appetite, and ate until I began to feel ashamed of myself, and finally stopped, not because I was satisfied, but because I had eaten every thing on the table, and did not wish to call for more. As I was rising from the table, the hostler entered the room, and said:
“‘What be the matter with your ’orse, sir? He be so lame he can ’ardly walk?’
“‘The matter with my horse!’ I repeated; ‘there was nothing the matter with him when I gave him into your charge;’ and, in no amiable mood, I started for the stable.