“Oh ye can jam in a hundred. I've got nigh that naow, and thay's other lockups in the caounty,” replied the landlord. “But ef they wuz a gonter try to shet up all the debtors, they'd hev tew build a half a dozen new jails. But bless ye, the mos' on em won't be shet up. Ther creditors 'll git jedgments agin' em, an then they'll hev rings in their noses, an kin dew wot they likes with em caze ef they don' stan raoun' they kin shove em right intew jug ye see.” “You don't mean to say there's much of that sort of slavery,” ejaculated Perez. “I'd now baout slavery ezzackly, but thar's plenty o' that sort o' thing fer sartin. Credtors mosly'd ruther dew that way, caze they kin git suthin aout a feller, an ef they sen em tew jail it's a dead loss. They makes em work aout ther debt and reckons ther work tew baout wat they pleases. They is some queer kinder talk baout wat kind er things they makes em stan sometimes rather'n go ter jail. Wal, all I says is that a feller ez hez got a good lookin gal hed better not git a owin much in these ere times. I hain't said nothin, hev I, Zeke?” and that worthy answered his wink with a salacious chuckle. “Have you any debtors from Stockbridge?” asked Perez, suddenly. “A hull slew on em,” replied Bement. “I've got one more'n I shall hev much longer, tew.” “Who be that?” asked Zeke. “Wal, I callate George Fennell won't hole out much longer.” “Fennell; George Fennell! George Fennell is not in this jail,” cried Perez. “Wal, naow,” said Bement, imperturbably, “perhaps ye know better'n I dew.” “But, landlord, he's my friend, my comrade, I'd like to see him,” and the young man's countenance expressed the liveliest concern. The landlord seemed to hesitate. Finally he turned his head and called, “Marthy”, and a plump, kitten-like little woman appeared at a door, opening into the end of the bar, whereupon, the landlord, as he jerked his thumb over his shoulder to indicate their guest, remarked: “He wants ter know if 'ee kin be let ter see George Fennell. Says he's his fren, an uster know him to the war.” Mrs. Bement looked at the officer and said, “Wal, my husbun don' genally keer to hev folks a seein the pris'ners, coz it makes em kinder discontented like.” She hesitated a little and then added, “But I dunno's 'twill dew no harm Cephas, bein as Fennell won' las' much longer anyhow.”