on," Parson Thomas replied, with a mild and credulous
countenance, "was the wickedest man on the Eastern Sho' for twenty year.
P-pardon me, brother, fur a likin' ye to him, but somethin' in ye
y-y-yur," passing his hand upon his skull, "p-puts me in mind of him. It
was hyur he was shot"--still keeping his hand upon the skull--"through
an' through, an' died the death of the sinner. I have p-p-put my
f-finger through the two holes where the b-bullet come an' went, an' rid
this w-world of a d-d-demon!"

The story appeared to have a fascination for the slave-buyer, Levin
Dennis thought, and Johnson exclaimed:

"Well, hod, did he ever run afoul of _you_?"

"O y-y-yes," answered the genial island exhorter, with obliging
loquacity; "it was tw-w-enty-s-seven year ago that I see ole Eben-nezer
Johnson come on the camp-ground of P-p-pungoteague with a mob of
p-p-pirates to break up the f-f-fust Methodies camp-meetin' ever held
about these sounds. He was en-c-couraged by ole King Custis, f-f-father
of our Daniel Custis, of Prencess Anne, who was a b-b-big man fur the
Establish Church an' d-dispised the Methodies. It was a cowardly thing
to do, but while King C-C-Custis laughed and talked a' durin' of the
p-p-preachin', Eb-b-b-benezer Johnson started a fight. The preacher
c-c-cut his eye and saw who was a w-w-winkin' at the interference. He
was a l-l-lion of the L-l-lord, and bore the c-c-commission of Immanuel.
He knowed he was outen the s-s-state of Maryland and over in the
V-v-vergeenia county of Ac-c-comack, an' that if the l-l-aws was a
little more t-t-tolerant sence the Revolutionary war the ar-r-ristocracy
there was b-bitter as ever towards the people of the Lord. He t-t-urned
from his preachin' at last, right on King Custis, an' he pinted his
f-finger at him straight. The p-preacher was L-l-lorenzo Dow."

"Wheoo!" Jack Wonnell exclaimed, with a coinciding grin; "I've hearn of
him: a Yankee-faced feller, like a woman, with long braids an' curls of
hair fallin' around of his breast an' back, and a ole straw hat, rain or
shine."

"That was L-l-lorenzo Dow," the parson of the islands said. "He turned
on K-k-king Custis and screamed, 'W-who art thou? The L-lord shall smite
thee, w-whited sepulchre, and m-mock thee in thy ch-h-hildren's
children, thou A-a-a-hab and thy J-j-jezebel!' It was King Custis's wife
he pinted at, too, the greatest lady and heiress in V-v-virgeenia.
Sh-h-e f-f-ainted in f-fear or r-rage to hear the p