"Going driving?" inquired I.
"Not exactly," replied he, surveying my horse with a quizzical smile; "I haven't been a driving by myself for a year or two; and my nose has got so bad lately, I can't carry a cold trail without hounds to help me."
Alone, and without hounds as he was, the question was rather a silly one; but it answered the purpose for which it was put, which was only to draw him into conversation, and I proceeded to make as decent a retreat as I could.
"I didn't know," said I, "but that you were going to meet the huntsmen, or going to your stand."
"Ah, sure enough," rejoined he, "that mout be a bee, as the old woman said when she killed a wasp. It seems to me I ought to know you."
"Well, if you ought, why don't you?"
"What mout your name be?"
"It might be anything," said I, with a borrowed wit, for I knew my man and knew what kind of conversation would please him most.
"Well, what is it, then?"
"It is Hall," said I; "but you know it might as well have been anything else."