the birds sang, the flowers bloomed, the sun shone, as cheerily as
before; and possibly the "Red Dog Clarion" was right.

Tennessee's Partner was not in the group that surrounded the ominous
tree. But as they turned to disperse, attention was drawn to the
singular appearance of a motionless donkey-cart halted at the side of
the road. As they approached, they at once recognized the venerable
"Jenny" and the two-wheeled cart as the property of Tennessee's
Partner, used by him in carrying dirt from his claim; and a few paces
distant the owner of the equipage himself, sitting under a buckeye-
tree, wiping the perspiration from his glowing face. In answer to an
inquiry, he said he had come for the body of the "diseased," "if it
was all the same to the committee." He didn't wish to "hurry
anything;" he could "wait." He was not working that day; and when the
gentlemen were done with the "diseased," he would take him. "Ef thar
is any present," he added, in his simple, serious way, "as would care
to jine in the fun'l, they kin come." Perhaps it was from a sense of
humor, which I have already intimated was a feature of Sandy Bar,--
perhaps it was from something even better than that, but two thirds of
the loungers accepted the invitation at once.

It was noon when the body of Tennessee was delivered into the hands of
his partner. As the cart drew up to the fatal tree, we noticed that it
contained a rough oblong box,--apparently made from a section of
sluicing,--and half filled with bark and the tassels of pine. The cart
was further decorated with slips of willow and made fragrant with
buckeye-blossoms. When the body was deposited in the box, Tennessee's
Partner drew over it a piece of tarred canvas, and gravely mounting
the narrow seat in front, with his feet upon the shafts, urged the
little donkey forward. The equipage moved slowly on, at that decorous