RAMBLER'S FIGHT WITH THE MOCCASIN
The Son of Ben Ali took off his hat, to show how polite he was in the dark, advanced a step, and then suddenly plunged at young Gossett headforemost. Struck fairly in the pit of the stomach by this battering ram, the young man, who was not too sober to begin with, went down like a log, and Aaron ran away like a deer.
The worst of it was that when George Gossett recovered consciousness and was able to call his nearest companion to his assistance, that individual simply laughed at the amazing story.
"Why, it don't stand to reason," he said. "There ain't a living nigger that'd dast to do sech a thing, and the dead ones couldn't."
"Didn't you hear him when he butted me?" inquired young Gossett feebly.
"I heard you when you fell off the fence," replied the other. "I allowed that you had jumped down to let the blood git in your feet."
"I tell you," insisted the young man, "he come up so close I could 'a' put my hand on him. He took off his hat as polite as you please, and the next thing I know'd I didn't know nothing."
"Shucks!" exclaimed his companion as loudly as he dared to talk; "you jest about set up on the fence there and went to sleep, and fell off. I told you about them low-wines at the still; I told you when you was a-swilling 'em, same as a fattening hog, that if you didn't look out you'd have to be toted home. And here you are!"