burn hesitated. He did not like to send Mr. Wilmot to such a place
as Mr. Middleton's, for though Mr. Middleton was a very kind man, he was
very rough and uncouth in his manner and thought his money much better
applied when at interest than when employed to make his house and family
more comfortable.

At length Mr. Woodburn replied: "True, I did not think of Mr. Middleton,
but I hardly like to send a stranger there. However, Mr. Wilmot, you must
not judge all Kentuckians by him, for though he is very hospitable to
strangers, he is extremely rough."

Mr. Wilmot thanked them for their information and said he thought he would
go to Mr. Middleton's that night.

"Lord knows how you'll get there," said Mr. Edson.

"Why, is it far?" asked Wilmot.

"Not very far," said Mr. Edson, "little better than four miles, but a
mighty mean road at any time and a heap worse since the rains. For a spell
you can get on right smart, but then, again, you'll go in co-slush!"

Mr. Wilmot smiled, but said he "thought he would try the road if Mr. Edson
would give him the direction."

Then followed a host of directions, of which the most prominent to Wilmot
were, that "about two miles from the house is an old hemp factory, full of
niggers, singing like all fury; then comes a piece of woods, in the middle
of which is a gate on the left hand; open that gate and follow the road
straight till you come to the mightiest, mean-looking house you ever seen,
I reckon; one chimbley tumbled down, and t'other trying to. That is
Middleton's."

Here Mr. Woodburn said, "That as the road was so bad, and it was getting
late, Mr. Wilmot had better stay at his house that night and the next day
they would send him to Middleton's."

Before Mr. Wilmot had time to reply, Mr. Edson called out, "Halloo! Just
in time, Wilmot!" Then rushing to the door he screamed, "Ho! Jim Crow, you
jackanapes, what you ridin' Prince full jump down the pike for? Say, you
scapegrace, come up here!"

Mr. Wilmot looked from the window and saw a fine looking black boy of
about sixteen years of age riding a beautiful horse at full speed through
the street. He readily divined that the boy was the property of Mr. Edson,
and as he had brought from home a little abolitionism safely packed away,
he expected to see a few cuffs dealt out to the young African. But when
the young hopeful, at the command of his master, wheeled his horse up to
the door, gave a flourish with his rimless old hat an