Uncle Ned had made ample provision for the Bench and
Bar. One pen of his house was appropriated to their use. There was a
bed in each corner, and there were nine lawyers, including the judge.
The interstices between the cabin poles were open, but there was no
window, and but one door, which had to be closed to avoid too close
companionship with the dogs of the household. It was June, and Georgia
June weather, sultry, warm, and still, especially at night. In the
centre there stood a deal table of respectable dimensions, and this
served the double purpose of dining-table and bed-place for one. Uncle
Ned was polite and exceedingly solicitous to please. He had scoured
the county for supplies; it was too new for poultry or eggs, but
acorns abounded, and pigs were plenty. They had never experienced
want, and consequently were well-grown and fat. Uncle Ned had found
and secured one which weighed some two hundred pounds. This he divided
into halves longitudinally, and had barbecued the half intended for
the use of the Bar and Bench. At dinner, on Monday, it was introduced
upon a large wooden tray as the centre substantial dish for the dinner
of the day. It was swimming in lard. There were side-dishes of
potatoes and cold meats, appellated in Georgia collards, with
quantities of corn-bread, with two bowls of hash from the lungs and
liver of the pig, all reeking with the fire and summer heat. A scanty
meal was soon made, but the tray and contents remained untouched.

The court continued three days, and was adjourned at noon of the
fourth day, until the next term. Each day the tray and contents were
punctual in their attendance. The depressed centre of the tray was a
lake of molten lard, beneath which hid a majority of the pig. After
dinner of the last day, all were ready to leave. When the meal was
concluded, Dooly asked if all were done. "Landlord," said the Judge,
"will you give us your attention?" Uncle Ned entered. "Your will,
Judge," he asked. "I wish you, sir, to discharge this hog on his own
recognizance. We do not want any bail for his appearance at the next
term." The dinner concluded in a roar of laughter, in which Uncle Ned
heartily joined.

Only one of the nine who assisted to organize that county, now remains
in life. There were four men there whose names are inscribed on the
scroll of fame--whose names their fellow-citizens have honored and
perpetuated by giving them to counties: Cobb, Dawson, Colquitt, and
Dough