In the course of a couple of hours along came Hoss Allen, who, as soon as Tom took hold of his bridle, winked his eye at him while he inquired:—
“Did Jedge Eddards come along, Tom?”
“Well, he did, Hoss, oncommon extensive in his political feelins'.”
“And you didn't let the Jedge stray away from the swamp road?” inquired Hoss.
“Well, I predicate I didn't, fur by this time he's travellin' into the diggins most amazin' innocently,” and then the pair enjoyed a regular guffaw!
“He's safe as a skin'd bar, then, Tom, and I'll spread his hide afore the Benton boys to-morrow—jest let them into the joke, and I allow, after that, his dandified aristocracy speeches won't have much effect in this section.
“Go it, Jedge,” shouted Tom, “ef I ain't thar to hear it, it'll be 'cause the breath'll leave me afore then—gin him goss without sweeten'—rumple his har, but don't spile the varmint!”
After Hoss had stayed his stomach with a cold bite, he bade Tom good-day, and started for Benton, highly tickled with the success of his trick. As he neared the “saplnracre,” he met Jim, who exhibited a full spread of his ivories, when Hoss. inquired which road he had directed the gentleman before him?
“He gone into de swamp road, massa, but what de debil he want dar, 'cept he arter coon skins, dis niggah doesn't hab no idear, whatsomedeber.”
Allen passed on, assured that all was right, and as his horse leisurely ambled forward, he broke into singing a verse of a western ditty, which says:—