"Parsons and doctors," said he, taking a copious cup of cider, "no doubt imagine themselves (and they have an undisputed right so to do) to be the very embodiment of natural benevolence and inviolable fidelity. But there are things of an opposite nature, to which their hearts and inclinations are as susceptible as those of the tenderest virgins. I was pursuing my journey this morning, when 'old Battle,' my horse, who has smelled powder enough to make his nerves more steady, pricked up his ears at something he saw in the bushes by the roadside. Reining him up, I dismounted, and to my great surprise discovered two well-dressed men fast asleep, locked in each other's arms. 'Faith of my father!' says I, 'who's here?' A slightly guttural sound was followed by a hoarse voice answering, 'It's only me.' And then a lean figure, with two well-blacked eyes, and a face otherwise disfigured, disconnected itself from its fellow, rose to its haunches, and stared at me with wild dismay. A white neckcloth, somewhat besmeared with blood, denoted his profession. On coming to his senses he aroused his companion, and commenced charging him with being the cause of the sad plight he was in. Neither seemed to have a very distinct recollection of the event that had founed them in a condition so disgraceful to them as respectable citizens; and the other protested his innocence of any misdemeanor, but was equally at a loss how to account for the disfigured face of his companion, and was about charging the whole affair to a dispensation of Providence, that being the most convenient and fashionable method for disposing of such things. But the man of the disfigured face, who was no less a person than Parson Stebbins, (and his companion the doctor, of whom mention was made in the foregoing chapter,) clung tenaciously to what he was pleased to call his love of facts, and said he would come out with it all, that the truth of history might not be impeached.