“Don’t drink, doos he?” asked Jed, who seemed to belong to a different town from the one wherein the others and Seth abode. His acquaintance with the one under discussion was evidently by no means intimate. “No; he ain’t got no vices ’t I know of. Jes’ onlucky.” “It’s s’prisin’ haow tantalizin’ly clus good fortin hez come to him--different times,” said the one who had asked for the tobacco, and whom the others called Silas. “You’re _right_, Silas,” assented Sam. “He c’n come nearer to good luck ’thout techin’ it ’an any man I ever see.” “Don’t seem to worrit him much,” said Jed. “He seems cheerful.” “Don’t nothin’ worrit _him_,” Sam continued. “Most easy-goin’ man on the face of the airth. _He_ don’t ask fer sympathy. He takes great doses of bad luck ’s ef ’twas good fer his health.” “Never fergit,” said Silas, “the time when he bought a fine new milch Jarsey at auction fer five dollars. Why, he hed two offers fer her nex’ day, an’ I _know_ one of ’em was forty dollars--” “Well, naow I call that purty lucky,” interrupted Jed. “Wait!” continued Silas, seating himself more comfortably on a trunk. “Seth he wouldn’t sell. Said he never did hev his fill of milk, an’ he was goin’ to keep her. Very nex’ day, b’ George! she choked on a turnip, an’ when he faound her she was cold. Man sympathized with him. ‘Too bad, Seth,’ says he; ‘ye ’r’ aout forty dollars.’ ‘Five’s all I figger it at,’ says Seth. ‘Didn’t _keer_ to sell.’ [Illustration] “Closest call ’at fortune ever made him was time his uncle Ralzemon aout West died and left him $5000. Everybody was glad, fer every one likes Seth. I was with him when he got the letter f’om the lawyer sayin’ it was all in gold, an’ hed be’n expressed to him, thet bein’ one of the terms of the will. Mos’ shif’less way of sendin’ it, I thought,” declared Silas, compressing his lips. “‘What ye goin’ to do with it, Seth?’ says I. ‘Put it in the bank?’ ‘Ain’t got it yit,’ says he; ‘an’, what’s more, I never will.’ ‘Why d’ ye think so?’ says I. ‘On gin’al principles,’ says he, a-laafin’. “Sure ’nough, a few days later it was printed in the paper thet a train aout in Wisconsin hed be’n held up by robbers. I was in the post-office when I saw it in the paper, an’ Seth was there too. ‘Bet ye a cooky thet my $5000 was on thet train,’ says he. ‘Won’t take ye,’ says I; ‘fer I’ll bet ye five dollars ’twas, myse’f.’ ‘I’ll take ye,’ says he. B’ George! he lost the five and the $5000 too, fer _’twas_ on the train, an’ they never could git a trace of it. The robbers hed took to the woods, an’ they never found ’em.” “Well, I swan!” ejaculated Jed, chewing hard, and regarding with ominous look a knot-hole in the platform. Silas continued: “I says, ‘I’m sorry fer ye, Seth.’ Says he: ‘I ain’t no poorer ’an I was before I heard he’d left it to me.’” “He was aout the five dollars he bet, though,” said Jed. “Wa’n’t, nuther,” said Silas, rather shamefacedly. “I told him thet the bet was off.”