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.

"Well," says he, "the year afore I knowed you, I was a-goin' in the
fall, down to Clare, about sixty miles below Annapolis, to collect some
debts due to me there from the French. And as I was a-joggin' on along
the road, who should I overtake but Elder Stephen Grab, of Beechmeadows,
a mounted on a considerable of a clever-lookin' black mare. The Elder
was a pious man; at least he looked like one, and spoke like one too.
His face was as long as the moral law, and p'rhaps an inch longer, and
as smooth as a hone; and his voice was so soft and sweet, and his tongue
moved so ily on its hinges, you'd a thought you might a trusted him with
ontold gold, if you didn't care whether you ever got it agin or no. He
had a bran new hat on, with a brim that was none of the smallest, to
keep the sun from makin' his inner man wink, and his go-to-meetin'
clothes on, and a pair of silver mounted spurs, and a beautiful white
cravat, tied behind, so as to have no bows to it, and look meek. If
there was a good man on airth, you'd a said it was him. And he seemed to
feel it, and know it too, for there was a kind of look o' triumph about
him, as if he had conquered the Evil One, and was considerable well
satisfied with himself.

"'H'are you,' sais I, 'Elder, to-day? Which way are you from?"

"'From the General Christian Assembly, sais he, 'to Goose Creek. We had
a "_most refreshin' time on't_." There was a great "_outpourin' of the
spirit_."'

"'Well, that's awful,' says I, 'too. The magistrates ought to see to
that; it ain't right, when folks assemble that way to worship, to be
a-sellin' of rum; and gin, and brandy, and spirits, is it?'

"'I don't mean that,' sais he, 'although, p'rhaps, there was too much of
that wicked traffic too, I mean the preachin'. It was very peeowerful;
there was "_many sinners saved_."

"'I guess there was plenty of room for it,' sais I, 'onless that
neig