“Ef you will, Captain Suggs, I’ll never forget you; I’ll think of you all the days of my life.”
“I ginnarally makes my mark, so that I’m hard to forget,” said the Captain, truthfully. “Well, turn me over a fifty for a couple of months, and go home.”
Mr. Pullum handed the money to Suggs, who seemed to receive it reluctantly. He twisted the bill in his fingers, and remarked:
“I reckon I’d better not take this money; you won’t go home, and do as you said.”
“Yes, I will,” said Pullum; “yonder’s my horse at the door. I’ll start this minute.”
The Captain and Pullum returned to the tavern, where the latter swallowed his coffee and paid his bill.
As the young man mounted his horse, Suggs took him affectionately by the hand.
“John,” said he, “go home, give my love to cousin Sally, and kiss her for me. Try and do better, John, for the futur’; and ef you have any children, John, bring ’em up in the way of the Lord. Good-bye!”
Captain Suggs now paid his bill, and had a balance on hand. He immediately bestrode his faithful “Bill,” musing thus as he moved homeward:
“Every day I git more insight into things. It used to be, I couldn’t understand the manna in the wilderness, and the ravens feedin’ Elishy; now, it’s clear to my eyes. Trust in Providence—that’s the lick! Here was I in the wilderness, sorely oppressed, and mighty nigh despar, Pullum come to me, like a ‘raven,’ in my distress—and a fat one, at that! Well, as I’ve allers said, honesty and Providence will never fail to fetch a man out! Jist give me that for a hand, and I’ll ‘stand’ agin all creation?”