at last, says he, 'I'll ship him to St. John, and sell
him. I'll put him on board of Captain Ned Leonard's
vessel, as soon as I get to Digby.' Well, as I turned my
head to answer him, and sot eyes on him agin, it most
sot me a haw, hawin' a second time, he _did_ look so like
Old Scratch. Oh Hedges! how haggardised he was! His new
hat was smashed down like a cap on the crown of his head,
his white cravat was bloody, his face all scratched, as
if he had been clapper-clawed by a woman, and his hands
was bound up with rags, where the glass cut 'em. The
white sand of the floor of Everett's parlour had stuck
to his damp clothes, and he looked like an old half corned
miller, that was a returnin' to his wife, arter a spree.
A leetle crest fallen for what he had got, a leetle mean
for the way he looked, and a leetle skeered for what he'd
catch, when he got to home. The way he sloped warn't no
matter. He was a pictur, and a pictur I must say, I liked
to look at.

"And now Squire, do you take him off too, ingrave him,
and bind him up in your book, and let others look at it,
and put onder it '_the Elder and the Grave-digger_.'"

"Well, when we got to town, the tide was high, and the
vessel jist ready to cast off, and Steve, knowin' how
skeer'd pony was of the water, got off to lead him, but
the critter guessed it warn't a bridge, for he smelt salt
water on both sides of him, and ahead too, and budge he
wouldn't. Well, they beat him most to death, but he beat
back agin with his heels, and it was a drawd fight. Then