“Why, as to old Hoss,” said Tom, “I don't know anybody else, but this new Jedge I ain't never seed, and ef he is the slicked up finefied sort on a character they pictur' him, I don't want to see him--Its my opinion, these squirtish kind a fellars ain't perticular hard baked, and they allers goes in fur aristocracy notions.” The Judge had no idea that Tom was smoking him, and he congratulated himself that an opportunity here presented itself, where he could remove a wrong impression personally; so, loftily viewing this southern constituent, he remarked:-- “You have heard a calumny, my friend, for Judge Edwards now sits before you, and you can see whether his appearance denotes such a person as you describe.” “No!” shouted Tom, with mock surprise, “you aint comin' a hoax over a fellar?--you raally are the sure enough Jedge?” “I am really the Judge, my friend,” responded his honor, highly elevated with Tom's astonishment. “Then gin us your paw,” shouted Tom, “you're jest the lookin' fellar kin sweep these yeur diggins like a catamount! What in the yearth did you do with old Hoss on the road? I heerd he was a comin' along with you. He aint gin out, has he?” The Judge replied, with a smile which expressed disparagement of Hoss Allen's powers of endurance, that he was forced to lie up on the route, from fatigue. Dinner being announced as ready the Judge and Tom seated themselves, and the latter highly expanded his guest's prospects in the district, assuring him that he could lick Hoss “powerful easy, ef he wasn't broken winded.” The meal being ended, the Judge demanded his horse, and inquired of his host the direct road to Benton, which Tom thus mapped out:-- “Arter you pass the big walnut, about two miles from yeur, keep it a mile on your left, and take the right trail fur about six hundred yards, when you'll cum to the 'saplin acre,' thar you keep to the right agin, and when that trail fotches you up, why right _over from thar_ lies Benton.” This was a very clear direction to one who had never before travelled the road, but the Judge, trusting to luck, said, “he thought he would be able to get there without much difficulty,” and started off, leaving his late entertainer gazing after him. “Well, I allow you will, Jedge,” chuckled Tom,--“You'll git inter that swamp, jest as sure as shootin', and you'll hev the biggest and hungryest audience of mosquitors, ever a candidate preached law or larnin' to!” To secure his finding the swamp road, he had stationed his boy Jim near the turn off, to make the matter sure. In the course of a couple of hours along came Hoss Allen, who, as soon as Tom took hold of his bridle, winked his eye at him while he inquired:-- “Did Jedge Eddards come along, Tom?” “Well, he did, Hoss, oncommon extensive in his political feelins'.” “And you didn't let the Jedge stray away from the swamp road?” inquired Hoss.