bout him was the size and setting of his mouth--he
was a born African orator, undoubtedly descended from a long line of
savage spell-binders, whose eloquence in the palaver houses of the jungle
had made them native leaders. His thin spindle-shanks supported an oblong,
protruding stomach, resembling an elderly monkey's, which seemed so heavy
it swayed his back to carry it.

The animal vivacity of his small eyes and the flexibility of his eyebrows,
which he worked up and down rapidly with every change of countenance,
expressed his eager desires.

He had laid aside his new shoes, which hurt him, and went barefooted to
facilitate his movements on the great occasion. His heels projected and
his foot was so flat that what should have been the hollow of it made a
hole in the dirt where he left his track.

He was already mellow with liquor, and was dressed in an old army uniform
and cap, with two horse pistols buckled around his waist. On a strap
hanging from his shoulder were strung a half-dozen tin canteens filled
with whiskey.

A disturbance in the line of voters caused the young men to move forward
to see what it meant.

Two negro troopers had pulled Jake out of the line, and were dragging him
toward old Aleck.

The election judge straightened himself up with great dignity:

"What wuz de rapscallion doin'?"

"In de line, tryin' ter vote."

"Fetch 'im befo' de judgment bar," said Aleck, taking a drink from one of
his canteens.

The troopers brought Jake before the judge.

"Tryin' ter vote, is yer?"

"'Lowed I would."

"You hear 'bout de great sassieties de Gubment's fomentin' in dis
country?"

"Yas, I hear erbout 'em."

"Is yer er member er de Union League?"

"Na-sah. I'd rudder steal by myself. I doan' lak too many in de party!"

"En yer ain't er No'f Ca'liny gemmen, is yer--yer ain't er member er de
'Red Strings?'"

"Na-sah, I come when I'se called--dey doan' hatter put er string on
me--ner er block, ner er collar, ner er chain, ner er muzzle----"

"Will yer 'splain ter dis cote----" railed Aleck.

"What cote? Dat ole army cote?" Jake laughed in loud peals that rang over
the square.

Aleck recovered his dignity and demanded angrily:

"Does yer belong ter de Heroes ob Americky?"

"Na-sah. I ain't burnt nobody's house ner barn yet, ner hamstrung no
stock, ner waylaid nobody atter night--honey, I ain't fit ter jine. Heroes
ob Americky! Is you er hero?"

"Ef yer doan' b'long ter no s'iety," sai