f he mek jes' one pass at me I'm gwine up wid my fistes an' give
him somethin' to brood over."

Bill Tilghman looked at Tallow Dick, looking at him sorrowfully, as
though haunted by forebodings of an impending tragedy, and shook his
head slowly from side to side. Tallow Dick returned the glance in kind,
and then both of them gazed steadfastly at the vainglorious new hand.

"Son, boy," inquired old Bill softly, "whut is de name of yore mos'
favorite hymn?"

"Whut my favorite hymn got to do wid it?"

"Oh, nothin', only I wuz jes' studyin'. Settin' yere, I got to thinkin'
dat mebbe dey wuz some purticular tune you might lak sung at de grave."

"An' whilst you's tellin' Unc' Bill dat much, you mout also tell us whar
'bouts in dis town you lives at?" added Tallow Dick.

"You knows good an' well whar I lives at," snapped Red Hoss.

"I thought mebbe you mout 'a' moved," said Tallow Dick mildly.
"'Twouldn't never do fur me an' Bill yere to be totin' de remains to de
wrong address. Been my experience dat nothin' ain't mo' onwelcome at a
strange house 'en a daid nigger, especially one dat's about six feet two
inches long an' all mussed up wid fresh mule tracks."

"Huh! You two ole fools is jes' talkin' to hear yo'se'fs talk," quoth
Red Hoss. "All I axes you to do is jes' set quiet yere, an' in 'bout six
minutes f'um now you'll see me leadin' a tamed-down white mule wid de
britchin' all on him outen through dem stable barn do's."

"All right, honey, have it yo' own way. Ef you won't hearken an' you
won't heed, go ahaid!" stated Uncle Bill, with a wave of his hand. "You
ain't too young to die, even ef you is too ole to learn. Only I trust
an' prays dat you won't be blamin' nobody but yo'se'f 'bout this time
day after to-mor' evenin' w'en de sexton of Mount Zion Cullud Cemetery
starts pattin' you in de face wid a spade."

"Unc' Bill, you said a moufful den," added Tallow Dick. "De way I looks
at it, dey ain't no use handin' out sense to a nigger ef he ain't got no
place to put it. 'Sides, dese things offen-times turns out fur de best;
orphants leaves de fewest mourners. Good-by, Red Hoss, an' kindly give
my reguards to any frien's of mine dat you meets up wid on 'yother side
of Jordan."

With another derisive grunt, Red Hoss rose from where he had been
resting, angled to the opposite side of the street and disappeared
within the stable. For perhaps ninety seconds after he was gone the
remaining two sat in an attitude of