“Well, let us see!” and he took the bill to examine it item after item.
“What is this?” he asked, reading aloud.
“'Cr. By one bushel of corn, fifty cents.'”
“It's some corn I had from you.”
“I reckon you must be mistaken. You never got any corn from me.”
“Oh, yes I did. I remember it perfectly. It is all right.”
“But when did you get it, Friend Barton? I am sure that I haven't the most distant recollection of it.”
“My hogs got it,” the shoemaker said, in rather a low and hesitating tone.
“Your hogs!”
“Yes. Don't you remember when my hogs broke into your field, and destroyed your corn?”