The two men reasoned it out after this fashion: “Well, I guess he is right. We are the stuff when it comes to beating around the city, keeping out burglars and thieves, but must stay in our places. Judge thought we were going to make a social call.” Judge grew greater in their estimation. They cursed him at first, but finally came to the conclusion that as Mr. Hyde he is on an equality with policemen, but as Dr. Jekyll out of their class. [Illustration: _Marse Lawrence and Trouble._] A HOUND OF THE OLD STOCK “Is dem putty fas’ houn’s, Marse Lawrence?” asked Uncle Simon Bolick, as Mr. L. A. Williamson, of Graham, Alamance county, came up with his pack of noted fox dogs. “Yes, Uncle Simon, they are the best in the country,” was the answer. “Yes, sir; I spec’ dey is now, since ole marster’s stock ’s all died out. But when Marse Billy wuz livin’ he had de steppin’ dogs. Dey wuz de swiftes’ in de lan’. Yo’ daddy’ll tell you dat. Dey don’t have houn’s lak his’n now. Ef I coul’ git some uv de ole Bolick breed I sho’ would git on ole Beck an’ go wid you arter Big Sandy, dat sly ole red dat uses in de Big Crick woods. But de las’ uv de stock’s gone. When Marse Tim lef’ here he sont Buck an’ Bell, de onlies’ ones livin’, to ole man Bob Bolick, his no ’count uncle, up in de Souf Mountins. Ole Bob he never know’d how to care for nothin’, much less er fine houn’. All my fo’ks is lef’ dis section. De war broke dem up an’ mos’ uv dem’s in de fur Wes’, unless dey’s all daid. But ef I had one uv dem old Bolick houn’s I woul’ show you how to ketch ole Sandy. Dat’s de gospel truf!” The old darkey was in earnest. His memory carried him back and he lived in days gone by, and scoffed at the things of the present. Life was not as sweet to him as it had been when he served his owner, Colonel William Bolick, the famous old farmer-sport of Piedmont, North Carolina, for then every day was a holiday. He hunted and traveled with his master, who kept fine wines, blooded horses and fast dogs. Truly, those were glorious days for Simon, and he has never become reconciled to the prosaic life of freedom. The Bolicks were prominent in North Carolina, and came from a good old English family. Robert, however, never did well and, to get rid of him, his father purchased a fertile mountain valley farm and sent him there to live. That suited him, for he had no pride and but little ambition. Colonel William Bolick did well until the civil war. Like many men of his class and day, however, he could not change with the times. The freeing of the negroes destroyed him financially, and he was never able to rally his fortunes. He died soon, leaving an encumbered estate and a family of boys; the former was sold and the boys went West.