“Whoa! wha, now!—confound you! Now, look at him!”—then might be heard a few good lusty kicks. “Come, Major, git your gun, and let’s—will you hold up yer head, you ’bominable fool?—and let’s take a little round—it’ll do you good.” “As I only go to satisfy my curiosity, I’ll not take a gun. You will be able to shoot all the deer we meet.” “Well, any way you mind, Major.” We were about to start, when suddenly the mule gave a loud bray, and when I turned to look, his heels were high in the air, and Sam clinging to his neck, while the fire flew in every direction. The mule wheeled, reared and kicked, and still Sam hung to his neck, shouting, “Look at him!—whoa!—will you mind!—whoa!—whoa, now!”—but all to no purpose, until at length the infuriated animal backed to the low paling fence which enclosed a small flower-garden, over which he tumbled—Sam, pan, gun and all, together! When Sam had disengaged himself, he discovered that the saddle-blanket was on fire, which had been the cause of the disaster. “Cus the luck,” said he; “I thought I smelt something burnin’.” Then addressing himself to the mule in a louder tone, he continued: “That’s what comes o’ jerkin’ yer dratted head about that-a-way. Dod drot you, you’ve split all my fixins—and here’s my pan, jest as crooked as a fish-hook!” Then there was a kick or two, and a blow with the frying-pan: “Take that, you howdacious fool, and hold yer head still next time, will you? And you’ve skinned my leg all to flinders, dadfetch your everlastin’ picter to dingnation! Take that under your short ribs, now, will you? Whoa! I’ve a great mind to blow yer brains out this very night! And you’ve broke the Major’s palins down, you unnatural cus. Whoa! step over now, if you’s satisfied.” By this time Sam had got the mule out of the inclosure, and had gathered up most of his “fixins.” The whole scene, after the upsetting of the pan, had transpired in the dark, but from the moment I saw the mule’s heels flying, and Sam clinging to his neck, it was with the utmost difficulty I restrained my laughter. During his solo in the inclosure, I was absolutely compelled to stuff my handkerchief in my mouth, to prevent his hearing me. “Did you ever see the likes o’ that, Major?” exclaimed Sam, as I approached the spot where he was engaged in readjusting his saddle and putting other matters to rights that had been deranged by the struggles of the mule to free himself from the burning blanket. “I am very sorry it happened,” I replied, “as it will prevent us from taking our hunt.”