"They never said so much as boo, about 'im to me, nor I to them; that's honest," said Troffater. "But I tell you, Fabens, I never thought a great 'eal o' them scamps. I itched to give you a jog, when they come so thick around you. You was green as a mess o' cowslops, or you'd a seen what they was arter. I thought you'd git nipt a grain, or my name wasn't Troffater. But I dasn't tell you what I thought on 'em. You wouldn't a' b'lieved me, I ben such a witch with my word. I spose you know the fellers have been heern from? They run out of all they cabbaged here perty quick. Frisbie, they say, is jugged up in jail, and there's better men sometimes hung than that Jock Fairbanks. I guess some o' the gals are kindy sorry they sot their caps for 'em! The Faddle gals, I guess, would give all their old shews, if they'd a' kep away from the whelps. My gals is all in titters about it; and Beck Teezle, says she, 'I wonder, says she, if Des and Luce Faddle, says she, will feel above us now?' They couldn't git me to dew their dirty Work, with all their ile and palaver. I bought a pitchfork on 'em, once in hayin', and got a platter there when Josephyne was married, and I paid 'em tew in mink skins; and that's all I had to dew with 'em. You lost a good 'eal by 'em, didn't you, Square?" "A thousand dollars," said Fabens. "It seemed a great sum to lose, at first. It _was_ too much for me. But it has been a good lesson to me, in many ways. The lesson perhaps will give me my money's worth." "That _is_ a big _sum_ to _luse_, I swanny! I wish I had a jogged your elbow a grain. I seen threw the cunnin' scamps the fust time. Didn't you know, Square, that Fairbanks was gray as a wharf rat, when he let his hair alone?" said Troffater. "No, I did not. _He_ was not gray; his hair was a glossy black," said Fabens. "Ha! ha! ha! you was _greener 'n_ cowslops, or you'd a seen that was all dye-stuff!" said Troffater. "Why, I seen the gray roots glisten for half an inch, the fust time I seen 'im. But didn't you know 'im, Square? He come from the Hudson." "I never knew him till he came here," said Fabens. "But, you've got a clean conscience," said Troffater. "If I had that, I wouldn't lay wake o' nights, nor grow hatchet-faced a great 'eal. I see your cheeks don't fall in, and nobuddy would spose by your looks that you had a _great_ grist o' trouble. Wish I could look as cheerful, and had a bit o' your pleasant peace o' mind." "But you have forgotten one of my questions; I asked if you knew any ill of George Ludlow," said Fabens. "All I know, I can tell perty quick," said Troffater, and cooked his quid, and spit through his teeth. "What do you know, Tilly?" asked Fabens. "I know an awful cuss hangs over the feller," said Troffater. "How you talk! Curse! what do you mean?" asked Fabens, with emotion, and a searching glance of his large and loving eye: "George Ludlow under a _curse_?"