“They were all pooty good, but that tall fellar they call Tom, from St. Louis; you, I mean, stranger,” pointing at the same time to the candidate, “you jest scart up my feelin's to the right pint--you jest made me feel wolfish as when I and old dad war arter the red varmints; and now what'll you take? I'm goin' to publicly decline in your favor.” Pouring out a tin full of the liquor, and stirring it as before, he stood upright upon the stump, with a foot on each side of his kegs, and drawing off his cap, toasted:--“The memory of the western pioneers!” A shout responded to his toast, which echoed far away in the depths of the adjoining forest, and seemed to awaken a response from the spirits of those departed heroes. “That's the way to sing it out, boys,” responded old Sugar, “sich a yell as that would scar an inimy into ager fits, and make the United States Eagle scream 'Hail Columby.'” “While you're up, Sugar,” said one of the crowd, “give us a stump speech, yourself.” “Bravo!” shouted an hundred voices, “a speech from Sugar.” “Agreed, boys,” said the old man, “I'll jest gin you a few words to wind up with, so keep quiet while your daddy's talkin', 'Sum tell it out jest like a song, I'll gin it to you sweet and strong.'” “The ony objection ever made to me in this arr county, as a legislatur', was made by the wimin, 'cause I war a bachelor, and I never told you afore why I re-mained in the state of number one--no fellar stays single pre-meditated; and, in course, a hansum fellar like me, who all the gals declar' to be as enticin' as a jay bird, warn't goin' to stay alone, ef he could help it. I did see a creatur' once, named Sofy Mason, up the Cumberland, nigh onto Nashville, Tennesee, that I tuk an orful hankerin' arter, and I sot in to lookin' anxious fur martrimony, and gin to go reglar to meetin', and tuk to dressin' tremengeous finified, jest to see ef I could win her good opinion. She did git to lookin' at me, and one day, cumin' from meetin', she was takin' a look at me a kind of shy, jest as a hoss does at suthin' he's scart at, when arter champin' at a distance fur awhile, I sidled up to her and blarted out a few words about the sarmin'--she said yes, but cuss me ef I know whether that wur the right answer or not, and I'm a thinkin' she didn't know then, nuther! Well, we larfed and talked a leetle all the way along to her daddy's, and thar I gin her the best bend I had in me, and raised my bran new hat as peert and perlite as a minister, lookin' all the time so enticin' that I sot the gal tremblin'. Her old daddy had a powerful numerous lot of healthy niggers, and lived right adjinin' my place, while on tother side lived Jake Simons--a sneakin', cute varmint, who war wusser than a miser fur stinginess, and no sooner did this cussed sarpint see me sidlin' up to Sofy, than he went to slickin' up, too, and sot himself to work to cut me out. That arr wur a struggle ekill to the