bad farming, and a lazy, slovenly helpmate, in a few years made Joe
as poor as he could desire to be; and at last he was compelled to
sell his farm to Mr. Q---.

After we had got settled down on this farm, I had often occasion to
drive into C---, for the purpose of buying groceries and other
necessaries, as we then thought them, at the store of Mr. Q---. On
these occasions I always took up my quarters, for the time, at the
tavern of our worthy Yankee friend, Mr. S---. As I drove up to the
door, I generally found S--- walking about briskly on the boarded
platform, or "stoop," in front of the house, welcoming his guests
in his own peculiar free-and-easy style, looking after their horses,
and seeing that his people were attentive to their duties. I think
I see him now before me with his thin, erect, lathy figure, his snub
nose, and puckered-up face, wriggling and twisting himself about,
in his desire to please his customers.

On stopping in front of the tavern, shortly after our settlement on
the farm, Mr. S--- stepped up to me, in the most familiar manner
imaginable, holding out his hand quite condescendingly,--"Ah, Mister
Moodie, ha-a-w do you do?--and ha-a-w's the old woman?"

At first I could not conceive whom he meant by this very homely
appellation; and I very simply asked him what person he alluded to,
as I had no old woman in my establishment.

"Why, YOUR old woman, to be sure--your missus--Mrs. Moodie,
I guess. You don't quite understand our language yet."

"O! now I understand you; she's quite well, I thank you; and how