BY PYE POD.
Thou hast described
A hot friend cooling.
It was nine o'clock in the evening. While we were chatting with the landlord of the only tavern in Luzerne, a portly, smooth-looking individual entered the room. He was clad in a great fur ulster and top boots. After a familiar "hello" to the landlord, he eyed me searchingly, and added, "Your name is Pod, ain't it?"
I said, "I believe so; yours is what, don't it?"
Evidently not pleased with my expression, he instantly struck an attitude, or something equally hard, and announced, "I'm the sheriff of Borden County, and have come for a jack belonging to Mr. K——."
"Jack?" I interrogated; "boot-jack, apple-jack—"
"Just plain jack," interrupted the officer.
"Well," I replied, carelessly, "I have no jack belonging to Mr. K——, but I have the jenny he sold me for five dollars. Mr. K—— imposed upon me, and if he will refund the money, I will be only too glad to return his hundred-year old mule."
Here K—— himself entered. He stormed about, and said that I told only a section of the truth.