The old man was found in a gloomy mood, with a pack strapped to his back, in woodsman style. “Old _Centresplit_,” his friend of thirty years’ standing, his rifle, his favourite, his all, was laid across his knees, and he in deep thought, his eyes resting on vacancy. As the delegation entered, he looked up: “Well, boys, the time is _cum_, and Texas and you is annixated; _but I ain’t_, and I _ain’t a gwoin’ to be nuther!—so take care how you raise my dander; I can shoot sum yet!_” The party explained, and it was agreed the old fellow should take up the march _upon the line_ for the nearest point on Red River, the party escorting him at twenty paces distant on either side—that the last mile should be run—that if he struck the water’s edge first, he should go free—if otherwise, he was to be taken and rendered up a victim to the offended dignity of the laws. “_Agreed_,” said Old Single, “it’s a bargain. Boys, tha is a _gallon_ in that barrel, let’s finish it in a friendly way, and then travel.” The thing was done, the travel accomplished, and the race, fast and furious, was being done. The old fellow led the crowd, hallooing at his topmost voice as he gained the river: “Hoopee!—Hurrah!—_I ain’t annixated!—I’m off—I ain’t no whar—nuther in the States nor Texas_, BUT IN ARKANSAW!” swam to the opposite shore, fired a volley, gave three cheers, and retired victorious. ----- [15] By the late Robert Patterson. XXV. MAJOR JONES’S COURTSHIP. LETTER I. Pineville, May 28th, 1842. Dear Sir, Ever sense you was down to Pineville, it’s been on my mind to rite you a letter, but the boys lowed I’d better not, ’cause you mought take me off ’bout my spellin’ and dictionary. But something happened to me t’other night, so monstrous provokin’, that I can’t help tellin’ you about it. It all came of snuffing ashes over a soft wood fire, and I reckon I’ve wished there was no sich plaguy stuff, as soft wood, more’n five hundred times sense it happened. You know the Stallinses lives on the plantation in the summer, and goes to town in the winter. Well, Miss Mary Stallins, who you know is the darlinest gal in the county, came home t’other day to see her folks. You know she’s been to the Female College, down to Macon, for most a year now. Before she went, she used to be as plain as an old shoe, and used to go fishin’ and huckelberryin’ with us, with nothin’ but a calico sun-bonnet on, and was the wildest thing you ever saw. Well, I always used to have a sort of sneakin’ notion of Mary Stallins, and so when she come, I brushed up, and was ’termined to have a rite serious talk with her ’bout old matters; not knowin’ but she might be captivated by some of them Macon fellers.