"Simon Rump is dead. I planted a rose over that good man's grave more than a year ago. What do you want?" "I am hungry; I want my breakfast," said Simon. "Go around to the kitchen and eat with the cook," said the angel. Simon Rump now knew that the angel was inexorable, and that henceforth he was a stranger at his own door. He walked away with a sad heart and obtained a breakfast at a neighbor's house. This benevolent individual endeavored to comfort the poor exile, and offered him an asylum until the wrath of the angel should be appeased. In his new abode Simon remained during the day, and at night he would wander around his own house, which he was now forbidden to enter. One night, as he was wandering on the boundary between his farm and the estate of the Widow Wild, he heard a commotion among a herd of swine. Rump had recently lost several porkers, and was confident that some one was now in the act of stealing a hog. He followed in the direction of the sound, and in the moonlight beheld a negro dragging, by its legs, a large animal of the porcine species to the door of his cabin. The African here threw his squealing victim on its back, and instantly plunged a large knife into its throat. Rump rushed forward, and seizing the assassin by the collar, commenced severely belaboring him with a stout hickory, at the same time indignantly denouncing him in terms of vituperation. The negro was astounded at this sudden assault on his person, and bounding about with extraordinary agility, loudly exclaimed,-- "Take care, Massa Rump! take care, or you will hurt yourself!" But Rump, regardless of this advice, continued his vigorous exercise until he had broken his hickory, when he exclaimed,-- "Who are you?" "I am Sam." "You are the infernal thief who was whipped for stealing the hen and eggs! Whose hog is that?" "It belongs to the Widow Wild." "I thought it was mine," said Rump. "But, no matter, you have got to go to jail. Come along!" This predatory African was incarcerated in the jail of the county, and being unacquainted with any lawyer except the eloquent advocate who had once so ably defended him in the court of Justice Johnson and obtained for him a new trial in spite of the efforts of Piddler to prevent it, he sent for M. T. Pate, and employed him in his defense against this charge of felony. Here, then, was an opportunity for the aspiring advocate to distinguish himself.