obscene inhabitants of the
neighbouring swamp from their mud-pillowed slumbers. They set up a
screeching, and yelling, and croaking, that was lovely to listen to.

"And now have patience, for Heaven's sake!" whispered Richards to me,
"and hold your tongue for a quarter of an hour, or you will spoil all
with this infernal Yankee."

"Do not be afraid," replied I; "I am dumb."

My blood was certainly tolerably cooled by the shower-bath I had had--to
say nothing of the prospect of passing the night in this vile hole; and
I would willingly have given the tenacious Yankee information concerning
the prices of flour and butter in every state of the Union, upon the
sole condition that he should afterwards help us out of this reservoir
of fever.

It was, as we had at once conjectured, our friend Mr Isaac Shifty, in
soul, body, and buttons. In true Connecticut fashion, he stood a couple
of minutes close to us without saying a word. It almost looked as if he
took a delight in our difficulties, and was in no particular hurry to
extricate us from them. For our part, we kept very much on our guard.
The cross-grained scarecrow might likely enough have left us to our fate
again, if we had said any thing that did not exactly chime in with his
queer humour. Richards at last broke silence.

"Bad weather," said he.

"Well, I don't know. I shouldn't say it was though, exactly," returned
the Yankee.

"You have not met the two women you were looking for, have you?"

"No. Guess they'll have stopped at Florence, with cousin Kate."

"You are not thinking of going there too, are you?" said Richards.

"No. I'm goin' home. I thought you were at the ferry by this time."

"Perhaps we should have been, if your roads were better, and the holes
in them filled up with stones instead of walnut-trees," returned
Richards, laughing.

"Guess you ain't inclined to go to the ferry to-day?"

"Inclined we are, but able we are not," replied Richards; "and you will
acknowledge, my friend, that is a pretty strong reason for not going."

"Well, so it is," replied the man sententiously. "It ain't very
agreeable lyin' out in the swamp; and so, stranger, if you like to go to
Bainbridge, you can come with me. Better let me drive, and my mare can
follow behind."

It took at least five minutes before the wearisome, pedantical fellow
had finished his arrangements and preparations. At last, to the infinite
satisfaction of Richards and myself, we sat three in