ived in the swamp and went howling and prowling about for plunder and
prey. (This was always given with a low, prolonged growl, like a dog in
pain--all the children shuddering.) And then followed the oft-told tale
of how this same terrible Yahoo once came up with Hagar, who was riding
a witch pony to get to the witches' dance in the cane-brake, and how
he made off with her to the swamp, where she had had to cook for
him--ever--ever--ever since. (Long-drawn breath, showing that all was
over for that day at least.)

Todd got the true inwardness of the situation before he had been many
days at Wesley: for the scene with the children was often repeated when
court was not in session.

"Fo' Gawd, Marse George, hab you had time to watch dat gemman, de jedge?
Dey do say he's sumpin' great, but I tell ye he's dat lazy a fly stuck
in 'lasses 'd pass him on de road."

St. George laughed heartily in reply, but he did not reprimand him.

"What makes you think so, Todd?"

"Can't help thinkin' so. I wuz standin' by de po'ch yisterday holdin'
Miss Kate's mare, when I yere de mistis ask de jedge ter go out an' git
'er some kindlin' f'om de wood-pile. He sot a-rockin' hisse'f in dat big
cheer ob his'n an' I yered him say--'Yes, in a minute,' but he didn't
move. Den she holler ag'in at him an' still he rock hisse'f, sayin' he's
comin'. Den, fust thing I knowed out she come to de woodpile an' git it
herse'f, an' den when she pass him wid 'er arms full o' wood he look
up an' say--'Peggy, come yere an' kiss me--I dunno what we'd do widout
ye--you'se de Lawd's anointed, sho'.'"

Kate got no end of amusement out of him, and would often walk with him
to court that she might listen to his drolleries--especially his queer
views of life--the simplest and most unaffected to which she had ever
bent her ears. Now and then, as time went on, despite her good-natured
toleration of his want of independence--he being always dominated by
his wife--she chanced, to her great surprise, upon some nuggets of hard
common-sense of so high an assay that they might really be graded as
wisdom--his analysis of men and women being particularly surprising.
Those little twinkling, and sometimes sleepy, eyes of his, now that she
began to study him the closer, reminded her of the unreadable eyes of
an elephant she had once seen--eyes that presaged nothing but inertia,
until whack went the trunk and over toppled the boy who had teased him.

And with this new discove