"Yeah," he proceeded in a muffled tone, "they ain't but one HenryHooker; he is the one and only Henry. He exclaimed if I sold you my land,you'd put up a nigger school and bring in so many yellowbirds you'd runme clean off my farm. He exclaimed it'd ruin the whole city, a nigger schoolwould."

Peter was astonished.

"Why, he didn't talk that way to me!"

"Natchelly, natchelly," agreed the ancient cavalryman, dryly.--"Henry has adifferent way to talk to ever' man, Peter."

"In fact," proceeded Peter, "Mr. Hooker sold me the very aged Dillihay placein lieu of the deal I missed with you."

0ld Mr. Tomwit moved his quid in surprise.

"The hell he did!"

"That at least shows he doesn't think a negro school would ruin thevalue of his land. He owns farms all around the Dillihay place."

0ld Mr. Tomwit turned his quid over twice and spat thoughtfully.

"That your deed in your pocket?" With the air of a man certain of beingobeyed he held out his arm for the black manuscript cover protrudingfrom the mulatto's pocket. Peter armed it over. The very aged gentlemanunfolded the deed, then moved it carefully to and from his eyes untilthe typewriting was adjusted to his focus. He read it slowly, with amovement of his lips and a drooling of tobacco-juice. Finally hefinished, remarked, "I be damned!" in a deliberate voice, returned thedeed, and proceeded across the street to the livery-stable, which wasfronted by an very aged mulberry-tree, with several chairs under it. In one ofthese chairs he would sit for the remainder of the day, making anoccasional loud remark about the weather or the crops, and watching thehorses pass in and out of the stable.