“Though I war ready for him this time, he come mighty nigh runnin’ foul o’ me. So I made up my minde the next time he went out he wouldn’t be alone. So when he passed, I grappled his tail, and he pulled me out on the ‘sile,’ and as soon as we were both a’top o’ the bank, old Brindle stopped, and was about comin’ round agin, when I begin pull’n t’other way. “Well, I reckon this kind o’ _riled_ him, for he fust stood stock still, and look’d at me for a spell, and then commenced pawin’ and bellerin’, and the way he made his hind gearing play in the air, war beautiful! “But it warn’t no use, he couldn’t _tech_ me, so he kind o’ stopped to get wind for suthin’ devilish, as I _judged_ by the way he stared. By this time I had made up my mind to stick to his tail as long as it stuck to his back-bone! I didn’t like to holler fur help, nuther, kase it war agin my principles; and then the Deacon had preached at his house, and it warn’t far off nuther. “I know’d if he _hern_ the noise, the hull congregation would come down; and as I warn’t a married man, and had a kind o’ hankerin’ arter a gal that war thar, I didn’t feel as if I would like to be seed in that ar predicament. “‘So,’ ses I, ‘you old sarpent, do yer cussedst!’ “And so he did; for he drug me over every briar and stump in the field, until I was sweatin’ and bleedin’ like a fat _bar_ with a pack o’ hounds at his heels. And my name ain’t Mike Fink, if the old critter’s tail and I didn’t blow out sometimes at a dead level with the varmint’s back! “So you may kalkilate we made good time. Bimeby he slackened a little, and then I had him for a spell, for I jest dropped behind a stump, and that snubbed the critter. “‘Now,’ ses I, ‘you’ll pull up this ’ere white oak, break you’re _tail_, or jist hold on a bit till I blow.’ “Well, while I war settin’ thar, an idea struck me that I had better be a gettin’ out o’ this in some way. But _how_, adzackly was the _pint_! If I let go and run, he’d be a foul o’ me sure. “So lookin’ at the matter in all its bearins, I cum to the conclusion that I’d better let somebody _know_ whar I was. So I gin a _yell_ louder than a locomotive whistle, and it warn’t long before I seed the Deacon’s two dogs a comin’ down like as if they war seein’ which could get thar fust. “I know’d who they war arter—they’d jine the bull agin me, I war sartin, for they war awful wenimous, and had a spite agin me. “‘So,’ ses I, ‘old Brindle, as ridin’ is as cheap as walkin’ on this rout, if you’ve no objections, I’ll jest take a deck passage on that ar back o’ your’n.’ “So I wasn’t long gettin’ astride of him, and then if you’d been thar, you’d ’ave sworn thar warn’t nothin’ human in that ar _mix_; the sile flew so orrfully as the critter and I rolled round the field—one dog on one side and one on t’other, tryin’ to clinch my feet! “I pray’d and cuss’d, and cuss’d and pray’d, until I couldn’t tell which I did last—and neither warn’t of any use, they war so orrfully mix’d up.