r of his going."

For reasons unnecessary to explain, I did not seek the Doctor that
evening nor the following day. Morning and noon came and went,
but the chief boarder did not appear. The vacant chair was to
those who lingered a pathetic reminder of the sad departure. When,
upon the following evening, the surviving boarders gathered to
their accustomed places, they beheld in wonderment a splendid pone,
savory and hot, flanked upon its left by the old yellow pitcher
filled to its brim with rich, sweet milk.

A moment later, and all eyes were turned to the open door through which
a once familiar figure moved to his seat. Suddenly stretching both
arms to the middle of the table, with one hand the good Doctor
grasped the pone, and with the other the pitcher, and holding both
aloft as he gazed upon each boarder in turn, exclaimed, "I understand
the boarders are not fond of corn bread." In the twinkling of
an eye, the Doctor, _the pitcher, the pone had all disappeared from
the dining-room,_ and the latter two were ne'er heard of more.
The poetic justice of the situation, however, was so complete, that
no word of complaint was ever uttered.

Some weeks after the events last narrated, I heard the sound of
many voices accompanied by peals of laughter coming from the office
of Doctor John. Stopping at his door, I soon learned that the
tumult was occasioned by a discussion as to whether the Doctor
could spell "sugar" correctly. The faction adverse to the physician
was led by one William Hawkins, a country schoolmaster. The latter
and his allies bantered and badgered the old Doctor to their hearts'
content. Rendered desperate at length by their merciless gibes,
the Doctor, taking from his vest pocket a five-dollar bill--one
I had loaned him an hour before with which to pay a couple of weeks'
boards--he offered to bet the full amount that he could spell
the word correctly. A like amount being at length raised by the
adverse faction, the question at once arose as to who should be
the arbiter. Observing me for the first time as I stood at the
door, the Doctor declared his willingness to accept me as "empire."
It may here be remarked that the honorable office to which I was
thus nominated is sometimes called "umpire." Webster, Worcester, and
possibly other lexicographers give the latter pronunciation the
preference. But the Doctor being "an old settler" and much better
acquainted in that locality than either of the o