, and when all of us had tried, the rooster hadn't crowed. Mr.
Dunbar said there was some mistake somewhere, and he made us step up
and show hands, and make prints on his hankcher; and lo, and behold!
one darkey had not touched the pot; his forefinger was clean; so Mr.
Dunbar says, 'Luke, here is your thief?' and shore 'nuff, it was our
preacher, and he owned up. I never forgot that trick, and from that day
'till now, I have been more scared of a lie-yer, than I am of a mad
dog. They is the only perfession that the Bible is agin, for you know
they jawed our Lord hisself, and he said, 'Woe! woe! to you lie-yers.'
Now, Marse Alfred, if you have made up your mind you are gwine to have
that hankcher, it will be bound to come; for if it was tied to a
millstone and drapped in the sea, you lie-yers would float it into
court; so Bedney, jest perduce what you found."

"That is right, Dyce; I am glad your opinion of my profession has
forced you to such a sensible conclusion. Come, Bedney, no balking now."

Perplexed by Dyce's tactics, Bedney stood irresolute, with his
half-filled pipe slipping from his fingers; and he stared at his wife
for a few seconds, hoping that some cue would be furnished.

"Bedney, there's no use in being cantankerous. If you won't perduce it,
I will."

Plunging her hand into the blue glass bowl, she pushed aside the
tobacco, and extracted a key; then crossed the room, lifted the valance
of the patriarchal bed, and dragged out a small, old-fashioned hair
trunk, ornamented with stars and diamonds of brass tack heads. Drawing
it across the floor, she sat down near Mr. Churchill, and bending over,
unlocked and opened it. After removing many articles of clothing, and
sundry heirlooms, she lifted from the bottom a bundle, which she laid
on her lap, and edging her chair closer to the Solicitor, proceeded to
unfold the contents. The outside covering was a richly embroidered
Canton crape shawl, originally white, now yellow as old ivory; but when
this was unwrapped, there appeared only an ordinary sized brown gourd,
with a long and singularly curved handle, as crooked as a ram's horn.
Bending one of her knitting needles into a hook, Dyce deftly inserted
it in the neck, where it joined the bowl, and after manoeuvring a few
seconds, laid down the needle, and with the aid of her thumb and
forefinger slowly drew out a long roll, tightly wrapped with thread.
Unwinding it, she shook the roll, and a small, gray object,