I don't tell this to everybody, you know, but there are some little things connected with my experience that drive away the blues in these times when the ghost refuses to walk regularly on pay day. It was out in old Kaintuck, the Blue Grass country famous for its fast horses, fair women and old Bourbon. Say, have you ever been in the land of Daniel Boone and Davy Crockett, the original Tennessee Congressmen? You don't know what you've missed then--grand scenery, splendid cooking, and the most original people in the mountains, where they make that moonshine whiskey you've heard about. [Illustration] I used to hustle right lively looking for news, and during the course of my journeyings I ran across a grizzled old farmer from the back settlements, who looked like he might be a good judge of double distilled mountain dew that had paid no revenue to Uncle Sam. Of course I tackled him right away, and first lining him up in the tap-room of the tavern, asked what news there might be up in his section, for it was a warm corner of the State, and could usually be depended on for some lively incidents during the week. His answer rather disappointed me at first. "They ain't nothin' doin' up our way," he said, "'cause we're all too busy with our crops to bother about anything else. All quiet in our neighborhood for sartin." "Pretty good crops this year?" I inquired. "Bully," says he. "I ought to be in my field this minute, an' I would be if I hadn't come to town to see the coroner." "The coroner?" I began to feel interested, because you know there's only one kind of harvest that needs a coroner. "Yep. Want him to hold an inquest on a couple of fellers down in our neighborhood." "Inquest? Was it an accident?" [Illustration] "Nope. Zeke Burke did it a-puppus. Plugged George Rambo and his boy Bill with a pistol. Got to have an inquest." "What caused the fight?" "There wasn't no fight. Zeke never give the other fellers a show. Guess he was right, too, 'cause the Rambos didn't give Zeke's father an' brother any chance. Just hid behind a tree and fired at 'em as they came along the road. That was yistiday mornin', an' in an hour Zeke had squared accounts." "Has Zeke been arrested?" "Nope. What's the use? Some of old man Rambo's relatives came along last night, burned down Zeke's house, shot him an' his wife, an' set fire to his barn. Nope, Zeke hasn't been arrested. But I ain't got time to talk to you. Have to git back to my harvestin'. But there ain't no news down our way. If anythin' happens I'll let ye know." [Illustration] One of my best friends down there was an old judge who knew more about whiskey than he did about law. One day a young lawyer came to town and hung up his shingle. Up to that day the judge had been the only member of the legal fraternity there.