home."

The most interesting piece of news that Gabriel had in his budget
related to the hanging of Mr. Absalom Goodlett by some of Sherman's men,
when that commander came marching through Georgia. It seems that a negro
had told the men that Mr. Goodlett knew where the Clopton silver had
been concealed, and they took him in hand and tried to frighten him into
giving them information which he did not possess. Threats failing, they
secured a rope and strung him up to a tree. They strung him up three
times, and the third time, they went off and left him hanging; and but
for the promptness of the negro who was the cause of the trouble, and
who had been an interested spectator of the proceedings, Mr. Goodlett
would never have opened his eyes on the affairs of this world again. The
negro cut him down in the nick of time, and as soon as he recovered, he
sent the darkey with instructions to go after the men, and tell them
where they could find the plate, indicating an isolated spot. Whereupon
Mr. Goodlett took his gun, and went to the point indicated. The negro
carried out his instructions to the letter. He found the men, who had
not gone far, pointed out the spot from a safe distance, and then waited
to see what would happen. If he saw anything unusual, he never told of
it; but the men were never seen again. Some of their companions returned
to search for them, but the search was a futile one. The negro went
about with a frightened face for several days, and then he settled down
to work for Mr. Goodlett, in whom he seemed to have a strange interest.
He showed this in every way.

"You keep yo' eye on 'im," he used to say to his coloured acquaintances,
in speaking of Mr. Goodlett; "keep yo' eye on 'im, an' when you see his
under-jaw stickin' out, des turn you' back, an' put yo' fingers in yo'
ears."

"You never know," said Mr. Sanders, in commenting on the story, "what a
man will do ontell he gits rank pizen mad, or starvin' hongry, or in
love."

"What would you do, Mr. Sanders, if you were in love?" Gabriel asked
innocently enough.

"Maybe I'd do as Frank does," replied Mr. Sanders, smiling blandly;
"shed scaldin' tears one minnit, an' bite my finger-nails the next;
maybe I would, but I don't believe it."

"Now, I'll swear you ought not to tell these boys such stuff as that!"
exclaimed Francis Bethune angrily. "I don't know about Cephas, but
Tolliver doesn't like me any way."

"How do you know?" inquired Gabriel.

"B