'Yas. He put eoeut nine year ago, and I han't heerd nor seed nary a thing on him sence, till a spell back. But I'll stick ter him this time, like a possum ter a rail. He woan't put eoeut no more, ye kin bet high on thet!' 'But he has another wife now!' 'Wall, I thort he moight hev--but she'll lean, raather sudden, I reckon. What is she--white or nigger?' 'She's a likely quadroon girl. She has almost made a man of him.' 'Hi Lordy! then she's right smart. I'm gol-durned ef _I_ could!' 'If you have so poor an opinion of him, why do you follow him?' 'Wall, I goes for a 'ooman's hevin' har own. When he put eoeut I swore ter gol I'd foller 'im as soon as I got on his trail, ef I hed ter go to h--ll fur it!' The low vulgarity of the woman disgusted me, and it seemed to have the same effect on the Squire, for he turned his back on her when she made the last remark. Not appearing to notice his manner, she said, after a moment: 'I say, Gin'ral! what 'bout thet stealin' bisness?' 'Bony was taken up a while back, for buying turpentine of the negroes. I reckon he's in jail yet.' 'Yas, I heerd uv thet--thet's how I treed 'im. Cunnel Lamsin--nigh on ter me--he seed it in the paper. I know'd 'im by th' Bonaparty. "When'll he be mauled?' 'Very soon, I reckon. He was sentenced to fifty lashes a week ago.' 'It'll do 'im good; I'd given 'im more'n thet. He war allers up ter dealin' with nigs.' The road, when we started, was in a very bad condition, and as we proceeded it grew gradually worse, till, in the vicinity of the runs where we then were, it had become almost impassable. We frequently turned off into the woods and open fields to avoid the worst places, but even there the jolting of the coach was so violent that I momentarily expected our 'lady' passenger would roll off into the mud. Seeing that she was in absolute danger, and being also willing to dispense with her refined society, I finally said to her: 'Would you not prefer an inside seat?' 'Yas, I would; but I han't th' money fur't. The' axed so like durnation fur totein' me in thar, I couldn't stan' it, no how.' 'What fare did she pay, driver?' I asked of the Jehu. 'Half-price.' 'That's enough for seventy miles over a road like this. Let her get inside.' 'Karn't, stranger, 'tan't 'lowed, (d'rot yer dirty hide--you, Jake--g'up!) the old man would raise 'tic'lar (wha 'bout--g'lang, ye lazy critter) music ef I done thet.' 'How much more do you want?' I inquired. 'The hull figur, (g'up thar, g'lang, ye durnation brute,) nary a red less.' 'I will see that Dibble finds no fault, and you shall 'moisten up' at the doctor's,' said Preston. 'Wall, Squire, (d----n yer rotten pictur, why don't ye g'lang?) ef ye says thet, (whoa--whoa, thar, ye all-fired rockabone--whoa!) it's a trade.' The stage halted, and the woman got inside.