and Tryphena, and Tryphosa, and Christie Hislop,
and Barney and Biddy Sullivan, and old man Newcome. Ben's boot did
capital service. With difficulty the executioners found a hole in the
creek about two and a-half feet deep, in which, at full length and with
great gravity, they deposited the exile from the States. Then, they
guessed the Squire, or the Captain, or somebody, would be wanting them,
and skipped lightly back to the house. They knew Mr. Pawkins would
follow, since he was the last man in the settlement to miss his juror's
fee of one dollar. After their return, there was a good deal of
merriment in the kitchen, and the two Richards boys roundly upbraided
the elder Pilgrim for depriving them of a share in the fun. "He baygged
an' prayed for massy," said Mr. Toner, with a grim smile, "but we was
the most onmassifullest craowd you ever see."

Timotheus, still in Sunday garb, took his work-a-day suit, now quite
dry, and went to meet Mr. Pawkins. Introducing him to the stable, he
soon had that gentleman relieved of his wet toggery, when voices were
heard without. It was the colonel, bringing his sister-in-law to see his
horse, as a sort of relief to the strain on his feelings, consequent
upon his interview with Wilkinson. Mr. Pawkins had only got Timotheus'
flannel shirt on, when the stable door opened. "Shin up that ladder into
the loft, Mr. Pawkins," cried the benevolent Pilgrim, and the spectacle
of a pair of disappearing shanks greeted the visitors on their entrance.
Timotheus had escaped into the coach-house, but all the clothes, wet and
dry, save the shirt, lay over the sides of an empty stall. Immediately
the colonel perceived the vanishing heels of the Yankee, he interposed
his person between them and Mrs. Du Plessis. "My deah Tehesa," he said,
hastily, "I think we had bettah retiah foh the pehsent, and visit the
stables lateh in the day." Mrs. Du Plessis, however, once no mean judge
of horseflesh, was scanning the good points of her brother-in-law's
purchase, and seemed indisposed to withdraw. Soon a head and a pair of
flannel shirted arms appeared, hanging over the loft trap, and a voice
hailed the colonel.

"Say, mister, you ain't a goin' to bring no wimmen folks up this here
ladder, be you?"

"Cehtainly not, suh!" answered the colonel, with emphasis.

"If it won't hurt you, I wisht you'd sling up them dry paants and things
daown there."

The colonel looked at the man, and then at the articles, with