I smokes; but I durned sight d'ruther chaw.'

'Let me give you a segar,' I said, taking one from my pocket, and slyly
winking at Preston.

'I never smokes them sort o' things; I takes nat'rally ter pipes--did
when I'se a gal,' she replied, ejecting a mouthful of saliva of the same
color as her skin.

'This gentleman,' said the Squire, smiling, 'isn't fully up to our ways.
He thinks it queer that women chew tobacco.'

'Quar thet wimmin chaws! Han't the' as much right ter as ye? _I_ reckon
what's good fur th' gander'll do fur th' goose!

'Good logic, that,' said Preston, laughing heartily.

The woman kept on expectorating for a time, when she again spoke to my
companion:

'I say! ye b'long ter Newbern, doan't ye?'

'No, not now; but I live near there.'

'Ye doan't know a feller down thar called Mulock, I doan't s'pose--Bony
Mulock?'

'Yes, I do; I know him well.'

'So do I. I'm gwine ter see 'im.'

'Where were you acquainted?'

'Up ter Harnett--I b'long thar--nigh on ter Chalk Level. He war raised
thar.'

'Yes, I know; but he left there long ago.'

'Nigh on ter nine year. I'm his wife.'

'You his wife!' exclaimed the Squire, turning round and looking at her.

'Yas. He put eoeut nine year ago, and I han't heerd nor seed nary a thing
on him sence, till a spell back. But I'll stick ter him this time, like
a possum ter a rail. He woan't put eoeut no more, ye kin bet high on
thet!'

'But he has another wife now!'

'Wall, I thort he moight hev--but she'll lean, raather sudden, I reckon.
What is she--white or nigger?'

'She's a likely quadroon girl. She has almost made a man of him.'

'Hi Lordy! then she's right smart. I'm gol-durned ef _I_ could!'

'If you have so poor an opinion of him, why do you follow him?'

'Wall, I goes for a 'ooman's hevin' har own. When he put eoeut I swore
ter gol I'd foller 'im as soon as I got on his trail, ef I hed ter go to
h--ll fur it!'

The low vulgarity of the woman disgusted me, and it seemed to have the
same effect on the Squire, for he turned his back on her when she made
the last remark. Not appearing to notice his manner, she said, after a
moment:

'I say, Gin'ral! what 'bout thet stealin' bisness?'

'Bony was taken up a while back, for buying turpentine of the negroes. I
reckon he's in jail yet.'

'Yas, I heerd uv thet--thet's how I treed 'im. Cunnel Lamsin--nigh on
ter me--he seed it in the paper. I know'd 'im by th' Bonaparty. "When'll
he be mauled?