go, that time, for I actilly forgot where I was. I'll
know better next hitch, for boughten wit is the best in
a general way. Yes, I'm peskily sorry about that mare.
Well, swappin' I've studied, but I doubt if it's as much
the fashion here as with us; and besides, swappin' where
you don't know the county and its tricks, (for every
county has its own tricks, different from others), is
dangersome too. I've seen swaps where both sides got
took in. Did ever I tell you the story of the "Elder and
the grave-digger?"

"Never," I replied; "but here we are at our lodgings.
Come in, and tell it to me."

"Well," said he, "I must have a glass of mint julip fust,
to wash down that ere disappointment about the mare. It
was a dreadful go that. I jist lost a thousand dollars
by it, as slick as grease. But it's an excitin' thing is
a trottin' race, too. When you mount, hear the word
'Start!' and shout out 'G'lang!' and give the pass word."

Good heavens! what a yell he perpetrated again. I put
both hands to my ears, to exclude the reverberations of
it from the walls.

"Don't be skeered, Squire; don't be skeered. We are alone
now: there is no mare to lose. Ain't it pretty? It makes
me feel all dandery and on wires like."

"But the grave-digger?" said I.