Frog Bottom and Remus for home. He stayed under the house a week, and when he came out his tail was so firmly fixed between his legs that a surgical operation was necessary. I understand that the wall where Remus hit is soft to this day, and that once in a while a fragment of glass falls out yet. It is worthy of remark, and the statement carries with it a solemn warning to the reader, that I had neglected to spit in a cross mark before breakfast that morning. The very next day I saw a black snake over my left shoulder, and a boil broke out under my right arm that very night. We cannot be too watchful, brethren. AMBITION LURES “Ed, dog-gone my cats ef I know whether I want to fight Indians or not! I’m afraid One-eyed Sam’ll have ’em all killed ’fore we kin git there.” A new ambition had struck me and I was wabbling between being a stage-driver or an Indian fighter. Ed was amazed and replied: “Dod-bust it, Laze, ain’t we done ’greed to go, an’ got ready? They ain’t nothin’ in this pokey ol’ country to keep a fellow awake.” “Huh! I’d druther be in Granville Thompson’s place an’ drive the Huntsville stage than to kill all the Indians I ever see,” I ventured. “If I thought there was any more bugle horns in the worl’ lack Granville’s an’ I could git to blow one, I’d druther be one, too,” said Ed. “I’d druther come a-sailin’ up the river lane on top o’ that big ol’ stage a-yank-in’ them lines over four horses jes’ a-prancin’ an’ a-gallopin’, an’ a-toot-in’ a tune on that brass bugle—Ta-ta-te-ta-ra-ah! Gen-tul-_men_! I’d druther be that than to be a policeman almos’. But we done promise the boys, Laze—how’re we goin’ to git outer that?” “’Spect we better not let on for a while,” I said, “cause we mightn’t git to drive a stage. But we gotter do sump’un mighty quick, Ed. Dog-gone ef I ain’t jes’ a-gittin’ hungry to smash sump’un-nuther.” “Git your pistol, Laze, an’ le’s go over the river an’ kill hogs. That’ll keep up the tas’e in our mouths ’till we go Wes’.” “I lack to clean forgot,” I said excitedly. “’Sposin’ we run off with that circus that’s a-comin’ nex’ week? Betcher I kin ride stan’in’ up ef you’ll let me put rozum on my stockin’ feet.” “I done bin thinkin’ ’bout that, but ef I don’t go out Wes’ I ’spect I’ll hafter be a dod-busted preacher. They’re jes’ after me at home all the time to be a big preacher,” said Ed. “I dunno whether to be a circus rider or a preacher, Laze. Which’d you druther?” “Shucks, feller—anybody kin preach. I want to be sump’un sho’nuf when I git a man. I’d druther have a grocery store lack Bill Yates’s than to be a dratted presidin’ elder or a bishop. Ef I had a store lack that with nothin’ to do but to eat candy, an’ cheese, an’ sardines, an’ pickles, an’ sech things, an’ set up in the back room an’ play the fiddle an’ chew terbacker an’ spit, dog-gone my cats ef I’d quit that to be a policeman or a emperor.”