frequent frays has taught
wisdom, he resolved to reconnoitre before he advanced upon a post that
might be in possession of an enemy. He therefore dismounted, fastened
his horse in a fence corner, where a field of corn concealed him from
notice, and then stealthily crept forward until he came immediately
behind one of the out-houses.

The barking of a house-dog brought out a negro boy, to whom Robinson
instantly addressed the query--

"Is your master at home?"--

"No, sir. He's got his horse, and gone off more than an hour ago."

"Where is your mistress?"

"Shelling beans, Sir."

"I didn't ask you," said the sergeant, "what she is doing, but where she
is."

"In course, she is in the house, Sir,"--replied the negro with a grin.

"Any strangers there?"

"There was plenty on 'em a little while ago, but they've been gone a
good bit."

Robinson having thus satisfied himself as to the safety of his visit,
directed the boy to take his horse and lead him up to the door. He then
entered the dwelling.

"Mistress Ramsay," said he, walking up to the dame, who was occupied at
a table, with a large trencher before her, in which she was plying that
household thrift which the negro described; "luck to you, ma'am, and all
your house! I hope you haven't none of these clinking and clattering
bullies about you, that are as thick over this country as the frogs in
the kneading troughs, that they tell of."

"Good lack, Mr. Horse Shoe Robinson," exclaimed the matron, offering the
sergeant her hand. "What has brought you here? What news? Who are with
you? For patience sake, tell me!"

"I am alone," said Robinson, "and a little wettish mistress;" he added,
as he took off his hat and shook the water from it "it has just sot up a
rain, and looks as if it was going to give us enough on't. You don't
mind, doing a little dinner-work of a Sunday, I see--shelling of beans,
I s'pose, is tantamount to dragging a sheep out of a pond, as the
preachers allow on the Sabbath--ha, ha!--Where's Davy?"

"He's gone over to the meeting-house on Ennoree, hoping to hear
something of the army at Camden: perhaps you can tell us the news from
that quarter?"

"Faith, that's a mistake, Mistress Ramsay. Though I don't doubt that
they are hard upon the scratches, by this time. But, at this present
speaking, I command the flying artillery. We have out one man in the
corps--and that's myself; and all the guns we have got is this piece of
ordnance, that ha