r putting down the crops?"

The man moved uneasily upon his chair, and seemed at a loss how to
proceed; the conjurer looked at him, and waited for a little that he
might allow him sufficient time to disclose his difficulties.

"There are a great many troubles in this life, sir, especially in
married families."

"There is no doubt of that, my friend," replied the conjurer.

"No, sir, there is not. I am not aisy in my mind, somehow."

"Hundreds of thousands are so, as well as you," replied the other. "I
would be glad to see the man who has not something to trouble him; but
will you allow me to ask you what it is that troubles you?"

"I took her, sir, widout a shift to her back, and a betther husband
never breathed the breath of life than I have been to her;" and then he
paused, and pulling out his handkerchief, shed bitter tears. "I would
love her still, if I could, sir; but, then, the thing's impossible."

"O, yes," said the conjurer; "I see you are jealous of her; but will you
state upon what grounds?"

"Well, sir, I think I have good grounds for it."

"What description of a woman is your wife, and what age is she?"

"Why, sir, she's about my own age. She was once handsome enough--indeed,
very handsome when I married her."

"Was the marriage a cordial one between you and her?"

"Why, sir, she was dotin' upon me, as I was upon her?"

"Have you had a family?"

"A fine family, sir, of sons and daughters."

"And how long is it since you began to suspect her?"

"Why, sir, I--I--well, no matther about that; she was always a good wife
and a good mother, until--" Here he paused, and again wiped his eyes.

"Until what?"

"Why, sir, until Billy Fulton, the fiddler, came across her."

"Well, and what did Billy Fulton do?"

"He ran away wid my ould woman, sir."

"What age is Billy Fulton?"

"About my own age, sir; but by no means so stout a man; he's a dancin'
masther, too, sir; and barrin' his pumps and white cotton stockin's,
I don't know what she could see in him; he's a poor light crature, and
walks as if he had a hump on his hip, for he always carries his fiddle
undher his skirt. Ay, and what's more, sir, our daughter, Nancy, is gone
off wid him."

"The devil she is. Why, did the old dancing-master run off with both of
them? How long is it since this elopement took place?"

"Only three days, sir."

"And you wish me to assist you?"

"If you can, sir; and I ought to tell you that the vagabone's so