out half an hour's start, and then run me down if they could; and
if they got me they'd tar and feather me and ride me on a rail, sure.
I didn't wait for no breakfast--I warn't hungry."

"Old man," said the young one, "I reckon we might double-team it
together; what do you think?"

"I ain't undisposed. What's your line--mainly?"

"Jour printer by trade; do a little in patent medicines;
theater-actor--tragedy, you know; take a turn to mesmerism and
phrenology when there's a chance; teach singing-geography school for a
change; sling a lecture sometimes--oh, I do lots of things--most
anything that comes handy, so it ain't work. What's your lay?"

"I've done considerble in the doctoring way in my time. Layin' on o'
hands is my best holt--for cancer and paralysis, and sich things; and
I k'n tell a fortune pretty good when I've got somebody along to find
out the facts for me. Preachin's my line, too, and workin'
camp-meetin's, and missionaryin' around."

Nobody never said anything for a while; then the young man hove a sigh
and says:

"Alas!"

"What 're you alassin' about?" says the baldhead.

"To think I should have lived to be leading such a life, and be
degraded down into such company." And he begun to wipe the corner of
his eye with a rag.

"Dern your skin, ain't the company good enough for you?" says the
baldhead, pretty pert and uppish.

"Yes, it _is_ good enough for me; it's as good as I deserve; for who
fetched me so low when I was so high? I did myself. I don't blame
_you_, gentlemen--far from it; I don't blame anybody. I deserve it
all. Let the cold world do its worst; one thing I know--there's a
grave somewhere for me. The world may go on just as it's always done,
and take everything from me--loved ones, property, everything; but it
can't take that. Some day I'll lie down in it and forget it all, and
my poor broken heart will be at rest." He went on a-wiping.

"Drot your pore broken heart," says the baldhead; "what are you
heaving your pore broken heart at _us_ f'r? _We_ hain't done nothing."

"No, I know you haven't. I ain't blaming you, gentlemen. I
brought myself down--yes, I did it myself. It's right I should
suffer--perfectly right--I don't make any moan."

"Brought you down from whar? Whar was you brought down from?"

"Ah, you would not believe me; the world never believes--let it
pass--'tis no matter. The secret of my birth--"

"The secret of your birth! Do you mean to say--"

"Gentlemen