I didn't say much to Joey jis then,

Fur the new un call'd drinks fur the crowd, An' we jined in to show we wur friendly, an' sich, But they soon started talking it loud, And some o' the boys got chaffin' a few,

An' the new un, he got rather riled; D'rektly the pistols were handled, an' then That new un went right at it, wild!

Thar wur two of 'em on him, but Joey sprang by
As they tumbled the strange feller down,

An' knocked over one, but the 'tother man fired,
An' before I had time to look roun',

Joe fell. The bullet had gone through his lungs.
Two or three of us soon cl'ared the bar

An' eased Joey up, but he whisp'red, "Say, Zeph, Jis stay right thar whar you are.

I'm just about finished.

But whar is that man?”

I told him I'd sent 'en safe out,

An' then I sed," Joe, you saved that chap's life;
Why, what were you thinking about

To make one in a muss that wur nothin' to you?

The bullet you got were clean meant

"Sarve 'en well right.*

Fur the new un;
(
," and I ses,
He signed me to stop an' I bent

My ear to his lips, his voice wur got weak,
An' the last words he managed to say

Wur, "Good-bye, Zeph, you're grit as a pard,
I'm glad that man got away,

'Tis true I'm going, but don't matter much,

P'raps she'll give me a sigh

When she hears I was killed in a quarrel to save
The life of her husband. Good-bye."

THE ONE-LEGGED GOOSE.

Used by permission of and arrangement with Messrs. Houghton, Mifflin & Co., Boston, Mass., publishers of the works of F. Hopkinson Smith.

HE Colonel had been detained at his office, but

THE

had sent word that I was to wait for him. Chad was serving the coffee. "My Marsa John," he remarked, filling the cup with the smoking beverage, never drank nuffin' but tea, eben at de big dinners when all de gemmen had coffee in de little cups-dat's one ob 'em you's drinkin' out ob now; dey ain't mo' dan fo' on 'em left. Old marsa would have his pot of tea. Henny use' ter make it for him; makes it now for Miss Nancy.

Henny was a young gal den, long 'fo' we was married. Henny b'longed to Colonel Lloyd Barbour, on de next plantation to ourn.

"Mo' coffee, Major?" I handed Chad the empty tup. He refilled it, and went straight on without drawing breath.

66 Wust scrape I eber got into wid old Marsa John was ober Henny. I tell ye she was a harricane in dem days. She come into de kitchen one time where I was helpin' git de dinner ready an' de cook had gone to de spring-house, an' she says:

"Chad, what ye cookin' dat smells so nice?'

"Dat's a goose,' I says, 'cookin' for Marsa John's dinner. We got quality,' says I, pointin' to de dinin'room do'.

"Quality!' she says. Spec' I know what de quality is. Dat's for you and de cook.'

"Wid dat she grabs a caarvin' knife from de table, opens de do' ob de big oven, cuts off a leg ob de goose, an' dis'pears round de kitchen corner wid de leg in her mouf.

"'Fo' I knowed whar I was Marsa John come to de kitchen do' an' says, 'Gittin' late, Chad; bring in de dinner.' You see, Major, dey ain't no up an' down-stairs in de big house, like it is yer; kitchen an' dinin'-room all on de same flo'.

"Well, sah, I was scared to def, but I tuk dat goose an' laid him wid de cut side down on de bottom of de pan 'fo' de cook got back, put some dressin' an' stuffin' ober him, an' shet de stove do'. Den I tuk de sweet potatoes an' de hominy an' put 'em on de table, an' den I went back in de kitchen to git de baked ham. I put on de ham an' some mo' dishes, an' marsa says, lookin' up:

"It'ought dere was a roast goose, Chad?'

"I ain't yerd nothin' 'bout no goose,' I says. "I'll ask de cook.'

"Next minute I yerd old marsa a-hollerin: "Mammy Jane, ain't we got a goose?'

"Lord-a-massy! yes, marsa. Chad, you wu'thless

nigger, ain't you tuk dat goose out yit?'

"Is we got a goose?' said I.

"Is we got a goose?

it?'

Didn't you help pick

"I see whar my hair was short, an' I snatched up a hot dish from de hearth, opened de oven do', an' slide de goose in jes as he was, an' lay him down befo' Marsa John.

"Now see what de ladies'll have for dinner,' says old marsa, pickin' up his caarvin'-knife.

"What'll you take for dinner, miss?' says I 'Baked ham?'

66

No,' she says, lookin' up to whar Marsa John sat; I think I'll take a leg ob dat goose '-jes so. Well, marsa cut off de leg an' put a little stuffin' an' gravy on wid a spoon, an' says to me, 'Chad, see what dat gemman'll have.'

"What'll you take for dinner, sah?' says I. 'Nice breast o' goose or slice o' ham?'

"No; I think I'll take a leg of dat goose,' he says. "I didn't say nuffin', but I knowed bery well he wa'n't going to git it.

"But, Major, you oughter seen ole marsa lookin' for der udder leg ob dat goose! He rolled him ober on de dish, dis way an' dat way, an' den he jabbed dat ole bone-handled caarvin'-fork in him an' hel' him up ober de dish an' looked under him an' on top ob him, an' den he says, kinder sad like:

"Chad, whar is de udder leg ob dat goose?' "It didn't hab none,' says I.

"You mean ter say, Chad, dat de gooses on my plantation on'y got one leg?'

"Some ob 'em has an' some ob 'em ain't. You see, marsa, we got two kinds in de pond, an' we was a little boddered to-day, so Mammy Jane cooked dis one 'cause I cotched it fust.'

"Well,' said he, 'I'll settle wid you after dinner.' "Well, dar I was, shiverin' an' shakin' in my shoes, an' droppin' gravy an' spillin' de wine on de

table-cloth, I was dat shuck up; an' when de dinner was ober he calls all de ladies an' gemmen, an' says, 'Now come down to de duck-pond. I'm gwineter show dis nigger dat all de gooses on my plantation got mo' den one leg.'

"I followed 'long, trapesin' after de whole kit an' b'ilin', an' when we got to de pond "-here Chad nearly went into a convulsion with suppressed laughter—“ dar was de gooses sittin' on a log in de middle of dat ole green goose-pond wid one leg stuck downso-an' de udder tucked under de wing."

Chad was now on one leg, balancing himself by my chair, the tears running down his cheeks.

"Dar, marsa,' says I, 'don't ye see? Look at dat ole gray goose! Dat's de berry match ob de one we had to-day.'

"Den de ladies all hollered an' de gemmen laughed so loud dey yerd 'em at de big house.

"Stop, you black scoun'rel! Marsa John says, his face gittin' white an' he a-jerkin' his handkerchief from his pocket. 'Shoo!'

"Major, I hope to have my brains kicked out by a lame grasshopper if ebery one ob dem gooses didn't put down de udder leg!

"Now, you lyin' nigger,' he says, raisin' his cane ober my head, 'I'll show you.'

"Stop, Marsa John!' I hollered; ''t ain't fair, 't ain't fair.'

"Why ain't it fair?' says he.

""'Cause,' says I, 'you didn't say "Shoo!" to de goose what was on de table.' "

F. HOPKINSON SMITH.