the neighbors thought
very well of him. But he used to go to town every sale-day, and at
night he would come home feeling very gay. I don't know what there was
in town to make him feel so gay, but I know that he used to come by
our house singing at the top of his voice and cutting up all sorts of
shines.

"Well, one night when he was going back home whooping and yelling, he
saw something dark in the road before him, and he rode his horse at
it full tilt. The horse seemed to have little taste for such sport,
for he snorted and wanted to shy around the dark object. But the man
clapped spurs to the horse and drove him right at it. The black thing
ran, and the man spurred his horse after it. It ran down the road,
then across an old field and back into the road again, the man
pursuing it as hard as he could make his horse go. Finally it ran into
Peggy Pig-Eye's yard and under her house, and the man went clattering
after it. Just as he pulled his horse up (to keep the animal from
running broadside into the house) the door opened, and Peggy Pig-Eye
put her head out.

"'Oh, it's you, is it?' she cried. 'And you are after me, are you?
Very well!' With that she clapped the door to, and the man rode on
home, not feeling as lively as he had felt.

"Now, it happened that this man was a great hunter. He had a pack of
fine dogs, and he was very fond of them. He hunted deer with them by
day, and raccoons and 'possums by night. The first time he went
hunting after riding into Peggy Pig-Eye's yard was at night. He didn't
go very far from his house before his dogs struck a warm trail and
went scurrying towards the big swamp at a great rate. A negro, who
went along to carry the light and cut the tree down, shook his head
and declared the dogs were not barking to suit him. He said there was
more whine than growl to the noise they were making.

"Anyhow, the dogs went scurrying to the big swamp, and the man and the
negro followed as fast as they could. The dogs treed right at the edge
of the swamp, and when the man and the negro got there, they were
barking up a big poplar. The negro held his torch behind him so as to
'shine' in the raccoon's eyes,--if it was a raccoon,--but he could see
nothing.

"'Cut the tree down,' said the man.

"The negro shook his head, but he whacked away at the poplar with his
axe, and cut it so that it would fall away from the swamp. The tree
fell with a tremendous crash, and the dogs rushed into the top lim