Middleton’s."

Here Mr. Woodburn said, "That as the road was so bad, and it was getting
late, Mr. Wilmot had better stay at his house that night and the next day
they would send him to Middleton’s."

Before Mr. Wilmot had time to reply, Mr. Edson called out, "Halloo! Just
in time, Wilmot!" Then rushing to the door he screamed, "Ho! Jim Crow, you
jackanapes, what you ridin’ Prince full jump down the pike for? Say, you
scapegrace, come up here!"

Mr. Wilmot looked from the window and saw a fine looking black boy of
about sixteen years of age riding a beautiful horse at full speed through
the street. He readily divined that the boy was the property of Mr. Edson,
and as he had brought from home a little abolitionism safely packed away,
he expected to see a few cuffs dealt out to the young African. But when
the young hopeful, at the command of his master, wheeled his horse up to
the door, gave a flourish with his rimless old hat and a loud whistle with
his pouting lips, Mr. Wilmot observed that his master gave the bystanders
a knowing wink, as much as to say, "Isn’t he smart?" Then turning to the
boy he said, "How now, you Jim, what are you here for, riding Prince to
death?"

"I begs marster’s pardon berry much," said the negro, "but you see how I
done toted all the taters you told me, and missis she ’vise me to ride
Prince a leetle, ’case he’s gettin’ oneasy like when Miss Carline rides
him."

"Likely story," said Mr. Edson; "but for once you are in the way when I
want you. You know where Mr. Middleton lives?"