In the morning Hoss Allen became “dreadful poorly,” and it was with great difficulty he could be prevailed upon to get up. All were sympathising with his affliction, and the matron of the house boiled him some hot “sass-tea,” which, the old man said, relieved him mightily. Judge Edwards assured Hoss, that it would be necessary for him to lay up for a day or two, and the afflicted candidate signified the same, himself. Before they parted Hoss requested Edwards, as he had the whole field to himself, not to be too hard upon him. His antagonist promised to spare him, but chuckled all the while at having a clear field in Allen's most popular district. Shaking the old Hoss by the hand, as they were about to separate, he remarked--“we will meet at Benton, I hope, in different trim, Friend Allen.” They did meet in different trim, but Edwards little dreamed the particular kind of trim he would appear in. As soon as Judge Edwards was fairly started, it was surprising the rapid change which took place in his antagonist--Hoss' eye lit up, a broad grin spread over his features, and pulling off the handkerchief, which was tied around his head, he twirled it above him like a flag, then stuffed it in his pocket, remarking coolly, at the same time,--“well, that thar swamp, jest at this season, is _awful!_” His express reported himself after his night ride, assured Allen that all was O. K., and received his dollar for delivering the message, upon receiving which intelligence, Allen seated himself quietly and comfortably at his coffee, and imbibed it with a relish that drove the idea of sickness into a hopeless decline. Judge Edwards rapidly progressed on his way, highly gratified at having his opponent off in this part of the field, and as he, in this happy mood, journeyed onwards he set his brain to work conning a most powerful speech, one that would knock the sand from under Hoss, and leave him in a state of sprawling defeat. He resolved to sweep the south, from that point, like a prairie fire. About noon, or perhaps an hour after, he arrived at Tom Walters' for dinner, and while it was preparing, inquired how far he was from Benton? “I've an idea,” said Tom, “you're well onto nine miles frum thar--jest an easy arternoon ride.” This was highly satisfactory to the Judge, and perceiving that the provender preparing was of alike pleasing character, he spread himself back upon a hickory bottomed chair with a kind of easy dignity, at once comfortable to himself, and edifying to his host. “Stranger,” inquired Tom, “did you scare up anythin' like the two candidates, Jedge Eddards and old Hoss Allen, on your way down yeur?” “I did see something of them, my friend,” answered the Judge, and then, as if making up his mind to surprise Tom, and give him a striking example of democratic condescension, he inquired, “would you know either of the gentlemen, if they stood before you?”