the driver. The one inside alighted and
ordered his baggage to be carried into the hotel. The stranger was a young
man, apparently about twenty-five years of age. He was tall,
well-proportioned and every way prepossessing in his appearance. At least
the set of idlers in the barroom thought so, for the moment he entered
they all directed their eyes and tobacco juice toward him!

By the time he had uttered a dozen words, they had come to the conclusion
that he was a stranger in the place and was from the East. One of the men,
a Mr. Edson, was, to use his own words, "mighty skeary of Northern folks,"
and as soon as he became convinced that the stranger was from that way, he
got up, thinking to himself, "Some confounded Abolitionist, I'll warrant.
The sooner I go home and get my gang together, the better 'twill be." But
on second thought he concluded that "his gang" was safe, for the present
at least; so he'd just sit down and hear what his neighbor, Mr. Woodburn,
was saying to the newcomer.

The Kentuckians are as famous as the Yankees for inquisitiveness, but if
they inquire into your history, they are equally ready to give theirs to
you, and you cannot feel as much annoyed by the kind, confiding manner
with which a Kentuckian will draw you out, as by the cool, quizzing way
with which a Yankee will "guess" out your affairs.

On the present occasion, Mr. Woodburn had conjectured the young man's
business, and was anxious to know who he was, and, if possible, to render
him assistance. It took but a short time for the stranger to tell that he
was from the East, from New York; that his name was Wilmot, and that he
was in quest of a school; and in as short a time Mr. Woodburn had welcomed
young Wilmot to Kentucky, but expressed his regrets that he did not come
sooner, for all the schools were engaged. "But," added he, "you had better
remain around here awhile and get acquainted, and then there will be no
doubt of your eventually getting a situation. Meantime, as you are a
stranger here, you are welcome to make my house your home."

Such kindness from an entire stranger was unlooked for by Wilmot. He knew
not what to make of it; it was so different from the cold, money-making
men of the North. He tried to stammer out his thanks, when Mr. Edson
interrupted him by nudging Mr. Woodburn and saying: "Don't you mind old
Middleton. He's been tarin' round after a Yankee teacher these six weeks.
I reckon this chap'll suit."

Mr. Wood