_Crimp._ Does he, Massa Jinks? You jes' don't know ole Jim: by golly, he's on two legs mos' de time, and gwine for me so (_imitates butting_), see, so. Hope I may die, Massa Jinks, if dat ar ole Jim didn't creep up a-hind me las' night when I was a-leanin' ober de pig-sty, jes' as easy, and lif' me ober dat ar fence into de mud, afore you could ax no questions. Nearly took away my bref. I'm glad he's gwine; he's too sociable; he is always teasin' folks to take a horn wid him, always wantin' to help gib you a boost. By golly, I's glad ole Jim gwine. _Hosea._ Suppose you go and tell him so. _Crimp._ What, me? Guess not, Massa Jinks. We ain't on speakin' terms; de conbersation am always interrupted wid so many buts, can't get on at all. But I'll jes' go and gib him a hint, Massa Jinks,—wid a stone. By golly, ole Jim gwine! Hi! de jubilum am come. I'm obleeged to you. [_Exit_ F. _Hosea._ Now, Mr. Rowell, I'm at your service; sorry to have kept you waiting. _Rowell._ It's of no consequence, Jenks: by the way, Miss Mattie Trueworth is a very pretty girl. _Hosea._ Isn't she? If she only went with the farm you'd get the _true worth_ of your money. You see: ha, ha, ha! I'm always doing it: can't help it; will pop out in my office, at my table, even in my dreams. It's a bad habit,—a _pun_icious habit, for which I ought to be punished. There it is again! Ha, ha, ha! I can't help it. I try, but it's no use; in my office, at my table— _Rowell._ I'm to pay you one hundred dollars. _Hosea._ Exactly, to bind the bargain; balance in ten days. _Rowell_ (_takes out pocket-book_). These Trueworths are evidently in a bad way. _Hosea._ Very. Farm gone, all gone. Poor folks! my heart bleeds for them. _Rowell._ Does it, indeed? The farm is sold to pay your claim. _Hosea._ Yes, and you've got a bargain. It's wartimes, and folks ain't a-goin' to put out their money. A year ago, three thousand dollars could not have bought this farm. What's the use of buying land when there's no telling but what the Southern Confederacy will sweep every thing afore the war's over? _Rowell._ Indeed! then you've not much faith in the success of Northern arms? _Hosea._ It does look a leetle black for the North. _Rowell._ If that's your opinion, perhaps I'd better withdraw before the bargain's closed. _Hosea._ What! back out? Don't you do it! It's always blackest just afore day. The right must conquer: it's a magnificent farm. It's only a question of time: a hundred dollars if you have it ready. The Union must be preserved: best cows in the country. Look at the uprising: a million freemen in arms,—ninety acres of meadow-land,—marching on to victory. And we're so far north, you know, it's a safe investment. I'll write a receipt.