cat's fur does to her skin, when she's out in the rain,
and every step he took his boots went squish, squash,
like an old woman churnin' butter; and his wet trowsers
chafed with a noise like a wet flappin' sail. He was a
shew, and when he got up to his hoss, and held on to his
mane, and first lifted up one leg and then the other to
let the water run out of his boots. I couldn't hold in
no longer, but laid back and larfed till I thought on my
soul I'd fall off into the river too.

"'Elder,' says I, 'I thought when a man jined your sect,
'he could never "_fall off agin_," but I see you ain't
no safer than other folks arter all.'

"'Come,' says he, 'let me be, that's a good soul, it's
bad enough, without being larfed at, that's a fact. I
can't account for this caper, no how.'

"'It's very strange too, ain't it! What on airth got into
the hoss to make him act so ugly. Can you tell, Mr.
Slick?'

"'Why,' sais I, 'he don't know English yet, that's all.
He waited for them beautiful French oaths that Goodish
used. Stop the fust Frenchman you meet and give him a
shillin' to teach you to swear, and he'll go like a lamb.'

"I see'd what was the matter of the hoss by his action
as soon as we started; but I warn't agoin' for to let on
to him about it. I wanted to see the sport. Well, he