"I bear the best of characters, lady. The reverend rector has known me
from a boy."

"I was speaking to him about you yesterday," said Miss Wilson, looking
hard at him, "and he says you are a perfect stranger to him."

"Gentlemen is so forgetful," said Smilash sadly. "But I alluded to my
native rector--meaning the rector of my native village, Auburn. 'Sweet
Auburn, loveliest village of the plain,' as the gentleman called it."

"That was not the name you mentioned to Mr. Fairholme. I do not
recollect what name you gave, but it was not Auburn, nor have I ever
heard of any such place."

"Never read of sweet Auburn!"

"Not in any geography or gazetteer. Do you recollect telling me that you
have been in prison?"

"Only six times," pleaded Smilash, his features working convulsively.
"Don't bear too hard on a common man. Only six times, and all through
drink. But I have took the pledge, and kep' it faithful for eighteen
months past."

Miss Wilson now set down the man as one of those keen, half-witted
country fellows, contemptuously styled originals, who unintentionally
make themselves popular by flattering the sense of sanity in those whose
faculties are better adapted to circumstances.