don't like the mare, they must blame
their priests for not teachin' 'em better. I shall keep within the
strict line of truth, as becomes a Christian man. I scorn to take a man
in.'

"Well, we chatted away arter this fashion, he a openin' of himself and
me a walk in' into him; and we jogged along till we came to Charles
Tarrio's to Montagon, and there was the matter of a thousand French
people gathered there, a chatterin', and laughin', and jawin', and
quarrellin', and racin', and wrastlin', and all a givin' tongue, like a
pack of village dogs, when an Indgian comes to town. It was town meetin'
day.

"Well, there was a critter there, called by nickname, 'Goodish Greevoy,'
a mounted on a white pony, one o' the scariest little screamers, you
ever see since you was born. He was a tryin' to get up a race, was
Goodish, and banterin' every one that had a hoss to run with him.

"His face was a fortin' to a painter. His forehead was high and narrer,
shewin' only a long strip o' tawny skin, in a line with his nose, the
rest bein' covered with hair, as black as ink, and as iley as a seal's
mane. His brows was thick, bushy and overhangin', like young brush-wood
on a cliff, and onderneath, was two black peerin' little eyes, that kept
a-movin' about, keen, good-natured, and roguish, but sot far into his
skull, and looked like the eyes of a fox peepin' out of his den, when
he warn't to home to company hisself. His nose was high, sharp, and
crooked, like the back of a reapin' hook, and gave a plaguy sight
of character to his face, while his thinnish lips, that closed on a
straight line, curlin' up at one eend, and down at the other, shewed, if
his dander was raised, he could be a jumpin', tarin', rampagenous devil
if he chose. The pint of his chin projected and turned up gently, as if
it expected, when Goodish lost his teeth, to rise in the world in rank
next to the nose. When good natur' sat on the box, and drove, it warn't
a bad face; when Old Nick was coachman, I guess it would be as well to
give Master Frenchman the road.

"He had a red cap on his head, his beard hadn't been cut since last
sheep shearin', and he looked as hairy as a tarrier; his shirt collar,
'which was of yaller flannel, fell on his shoulders loose, and a black
hankercher was tied round his neck, slack like a sailor's. He wore a
round jacket and loose trowsers of homespun with no waistcoat, and his
trowsers was held up by a gallus of leather on one side, and o