ould be devoted to enforce the demands of justice.

Just before the shades of evening shut in, Basset--agreeably to the
preconcerted plan, presented himself at the hut of the General, and
took his station at the window that commanded, for quite a distance, a
view of the road. The moon was shining, and her beams, reflected from
the snow, made it easy to distinguish objects. The constable sighed,
as he took his seat, and declared that, in all his experience,
he never had so much difficulty in his legal business. It was the
General's cue to encourage his visitor, and keep up his resolution.
He, therefore, said, in a cheerful tone--

"Folks say, dere is nebber no lane but hab one turn. Now, dis is de
turn. See, how de road twist round my house. Dat is a good sign."

"If I don't git him this time," said Basset, "I guess I might as well
give it up, and the State of Connecticut may just be reckoned beat."

"Don't ground you arms yet, Missa Basset. In de long run, de raal grit
allers carry de day."

"When I think it all over," said the constable, musing, "it seems kind
o' queer. I'm sort o' bewitched, and, if the days of witches wasn't
gone by, I shouldn't wonder if some of them hadn't got me in tow.
But, I ain't going to give it up yet. I don't forget the old chap's
knocking me down in the dark behind my back, as though I'd been no
better than a woodchuck or a skunk."

"How it feel, Missa Basset?" inquired Primus, with a grin. "Did de old
man strike wid de soft side or de hard side ob de cudgel?"

"You needn't show your ivory," said the constable, whom the
remembrance of his misfortune irritated; "I wish to conscience you'd
felt it yourself; you'd have known, then, without the need of asking
questions."

"Golly! Missa Basset," exclaimed Primus. "You tink nobody hab feeling
but yousef. You gib my arm sich a winch when de ole man kick you
behind, or knock you ober (I nebber know which) dat I feel him now."

"He didn't kick me," said Basset, indignantly. "'Twas a regular
assault with a club, I tell you."

"Well, I shouldn't like sich salt on my shoulder, aldo dey say, salt
bery good to keep de wound from catching cold."

"I tell you what, darkey," cried the constable, losing patience at the
other's sneers. "You talk like an old fool. If you hain't got anything
pleasanter to say, you might as well shut up."

"Yes, I be an old fool," said Primus, as if speaking to himself, "and
dis is all de tank I git from dis white