As Uncle Tony was, perhaps, the oldest person, and knew more about the Lake than any person then engaged at it, he was awakened, and Mr. Woodward said: "Uncle Tony, I want you to tell us about the man whom you said you brought to the Lake in 1821." "Who tole you 'bout dat boss?" inquired Uncle Tony, with an air of conscious pride. "It will make no difference, go on and tell us," returned Mr. Woodward. Tony scratched his head, then putting some tobacco in his pipe, took out his flint and steel (matches not being known in the swamp at that day,) and soon had fire enough to light his pipe. Drawing on it enough to get his "nigger head" tobacco to burn, and fixing himself on the end of his log, he commenced: "Boss, I shall nebber forgit dat time. One mornin' as I war gittin' my skiff ready to go to de Lake, a mity nice lookin' man cum up to me an' said: 'Buck, ar' you de man dat will carry me to de Lake ob de Dismal Swamp, for which I will pay you one pound?' De gemman talked so putty, dat I tole him to git in my skiff, an' I wud carry him to de Lake. I notice' dat he kep' writin' all de way. When I got to de horse camps I stopped to get somfin to eat. He cum outen de skiff an' ax me what I stop for. I tole him I stop to eat some meat an' bread. He ax me if I wud hav' a drink. I tuk off my hat an' tole him dat I wud be much obleged to him for it. He foched a silber jug, wid a silber cup for a stopper, and said: 'My man, dis is Irish whiskey. I brung it all de way from home.' He tole me dat his name was Thomas Moore, an' dat he cum fom 'way ober yonder--I dun forgot de name of de place--an' was gwine to de Lake to write 'bout a spirit dat is seed dar paddlin' a kunnue. De har 'gin tu rise on my hed an' I ax him ef dat was a fac'. He sed dat he was told so in Norfolk. It was gin out dar dat a mity putty gal had loss her sweethart, an' had dun gone crazy, an' had gone to de Lake ob de Dismal Swamp an' drown herself, an' dat she ken be seen ebery night by de lite ob some sort ob fli." "I tell you, boss," continued the old man, "when he tole me 'bout dat gal paddlin' dat bote on de Lake at nite, I diden' want to go any furder wid him, but he tole me dar wud be no danger. I cud not see hur, so I carrid him on to de Lake. He rit like de gal had run away an' had been drowned rite here. I shal nebber forget dat gentman. I fotch him back an' he gin me de poun', which war five dollars, an' he lef' for Norfolk, bein' mitey glad dat I had carrid him to de Lake." "Tony, did he tell you anything about his trip?" inquired Mr. Woodward.