“Waal, he warn’t so ’fectionate with that thar coon las’ time I seen him,” Ike added his testimony. “’Twar over yander at the church-house in the gap. An’ whilst the folks war settin’ inside, a-listenin’ ter the preachin’, we-uns hearn the biggest rumpus outside ’mongst the teams, an’ everybody looked plumb wretched, wonderin’ ef ’twar suthin’ hed happened ter thar steer or horse critter. An’ dad whispered ter me ter go out an’ see. An’ thar, ’mongst all the wagins, an’ yokes o’ oxen, an’ saddle horses under the trees, war a young claybank horse ez b’long ter Eph Bates. An’ that thar coon he had slyed off an’ follered his master ter the church-house, an’ stiddier goin’ inside—it’s a mercy he didn’t—he seen Eph’s horse, an’ he clomb the tree, an’ drapped down on the pommel o’ the saddle. Waal, sir, sech kickin’! that horse war young an’ skeery; sech squealin’! An’ whenst I seen him he war tremblin’ like he hed a fit o’ the ague, an’ then he’d turn his head an’ git a glimge o’ that thar citizen in the saddle, an’ begin ter plunge an’ shy an’ snort ag’in. Jes’ ’fore I got ter him he bruk his halter, an’ he lit out; around an’ around that thar church-house he went a-cavortin’ an’ a-gallopin’, Mister Coon settin’ in the saddle, a-holdin’ on fur life, an’ a-smilin’ from ear to ear. An’ the folks in the church-house seen what war a-goin’ on, an’ Eph an’ some o’ them nigh the door run out an’ hollered, ‘Whoa! Whoa!’ at the horse. Didn’t do no good. Ez soon ez the critter seen he couldn’t shake the coon off he bolted an’ run through the woods. Eph, he walked home that Sunday, five mile, but Mister Coon, he rid.” “Oh, Mister Coon, oh, Mister Coon,” Skimpy was murmuring, and presently he broke into song:— “Bob Snooks, he eat up all in his plate, An’ he dreampt a dream that night right late. A-settin’ on a cloud war a big raccoon, A-eatin’ an’ a-washin’ his paws in the moon. ’Twar brimmin’ full o’ clabber an’ whey. His tail war ringed with black an’ gray; It hung plumb down ter the poplar-tree, An’ he wagged it up an’ down in glee. CHORUS. “Oh, Mister Coon! oh, Mister Coon, Oh, take them dirty paws out’n the moon. “He looked at Bob, ter wink an’ grin, An’ then Bob say—‘Ez sure ez sin I’ll yank ye off’n the aidge o’ that moon, Though ye air a mos’ surprisin’ coon.’ Bob sicked on Towse—_Towse clomb the tree!_ An’ grabbed the coon right nat’rally. An’ suddint Bob woke—thar war _no_ raccoon, Bob wisht he hed lef’ him up thar on the moon. CHORUS. “Oh, Mister Coon! oh, Mister Coon, Oh, why can’t ye once more balance on the moon.”