“Dod darn mi hide, ef yu don’t shut up, dad, I’ll never git tu the hoss. Wal, as we was both goin’ the same way, me an’ this feller jined cumpenny, an’ ’bout noon, we hitched our critters, an’ set down aside uv a branch, and went to eatin’ a snack. Arter we’d got thru, this feller sez tu me, ‘Try a drap uv this ere red-eye, stranger.’ ‘Wal, I don’t mind,’ sez I—” “But _war’s yure hoss_?” “Kummin’ tu him bime-by, dad. So me an’ this feller sot thar, sorter torkin’ an’ drinkin’, an’ then he sez, ‘Stranger, let’s play a leetle game uv Seven-up,’ a takin’ out uv his pocket a greasy, roun’-cornered deck uv _kerds_. ‘Don’r keer ef I du,’ sez I. So we sot up side uv a stump, and kummenced tu bet a quorter up, an’ I was a _slayin’ him orful_—” “But _war’s yure hoss_?” “Kummin’ tu him, dad. Bimeby, luck changed, an’ he got tu winnin’, an’ pretty sune I hadn’t not nary nuther doller. Then sez he, ‘Stranger, I’ll gin yu a chance to git even, an’ play yu one more game.’ Wal, we both plaid rite tite that game, I sware, an’ we was both six an’ six, an’—” “_War’s yure hoss?_” “Kummin’ tu him, dad. We was six an’ six, dad, an’ ’twas his deal—” “Will yu tell me _war’s yure hoss_?” said, the old man, getting riled. “Yes, we was six an’ six, an’ _he turned up the Jack_!” “_War’s yure hoss?_” “The stranger won him, _a-turnin’ that Jack_!” XV. BOB LEE. A TALE. In a remote region of the Hoosac Mountains is a little place called Turkeytown. It is a straggling assemblage of dingy, old-fashioned houses surrounded by the woods, and the inhabitants are as old-fashioned as their dwellings. They raise corn and pumpkins, believe in witches, and know nothing of railroads or the march of intellect. There has never been more than one pair of boots in the town: these are called “the town boots,” and are provided at the public expense, to be worn to Boston every winter by the representative. I had the satisfaction last week of actually seeing these venerable coriaceous integuments in official duty upon the long shanks of Colonel Crabapple of the General Court, and was struck with becoming awe at their veteran looks. They seemed to be somewhat the worse for wear, but the Colonel informed me the town had lately voted to have them heel-tapped, and the vote would probably be carried into effect before the next session.